Page 97 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

“Right. I’ll call you a driver, then.” I pulled out my phone, only to be met with a black, unresponsive screen.

Perfect. Just perfect.

“Where’s your phone?” I asked.

No response. She was fading fast.

“Cassandra, focus. I need your phone.” She started to slide down the doorframe. “Cassandra,” I said, louder. “Give me your phone.”

Her hands patted a dazed, circular pattern on her hips and the sides of her dress, a futile search given the pocketless design and the lack of a purse. The phone was either lost, left behind, or buried in some crevice she was too incoherent to find.

I sighed. It was clear I would have to drive her. “What’s your address?”

This only prompted a fit of slurred, mindless giggles.

My only other option was to call Liam for her address, but my phone was dead, and I had no idea if his flight had even landed. I was completely cut off.

I looked at Cassandra again—barely standing, still giggling, eyes half-shut—and then I felt the deep, physical ache in my own bones, the desperate pull to get home.

Having made my decision, I maneuvered her into the back seat of my car, my movements clumsy and slow. I shut the door and moved to the driver’s side, but before I could open it, the world swayed. I braced myself against the roof, my head spinning.

I rested my forehead on the cool glass, trying to recall the last time I’d eaten. The only thing that came to mind was Liam shoving an energy bar into my hand hours ago, before he’d left for the airport.

I shook off the dizziness and slid into the driver’s seat.

Just get through this one ride. Then you can sleep.

As I navigated the dark streets, my thoughts drifted to Alessia. The longing hit hard, sudden and physical, an ache that settled beneath my ribs. Fuck, I missed her. I’d barely seen her these past few months, always letting one crisis or another take precedence, but that ended now. The crisis was over. There were no more fires to put out.

Tomorrow, I promised myself, the thought a beacon in the fog of my exhaustion. Tomorrow, all my time would be hers. I would come clean about everything at work. We’d book a vacation somewhere remote, somewhere our phones would be useless and nobody could find us. Liam could handle things. The Aethelstan deal was sealed. The company was safe.

Starting tomorrow, everything would be different.

Little did I know, things were going to be different. Just not in the way I had hoped.

My voice was low, my gaze pinned on Cassandra. “What did you say to Alessia?”

Her expression froze for a fraction of a second before smoothing over. “You’ll have to be more specific, Cassian. We’ve had many conversations. I can’t be expected to remember them all.”

I folded my arms and leaned back against my desk, never breaking eye contact. “Is that so?” My voice flattened. “Let me refresh your memory. Did you mention anything about a ‘connection’ between us? A special kind that my wife could never have?”

Liam snapped his head toward her, eyebrows shooting up. “What the fuck?” he muttered.

Cassandra’s composure cracked. She shot a nervous glance at Rohan, then Liam. “This is a private matter. We should discuss this alone.”

I didn’t move. “No. We’re having this conversation here. With an audience.” I let the word hang. “With witnesses.”

Her eyes narrowed, a flash of anger replacing the nerves. “Witnesses? What am I, a criminal?”

No, you’re a cockroach.

“You lied to my wife. You filled her head with poison. I don’t trust you not to twist your words later, so no, we are not talking in private. We do this here, now, with witnesses.”

Her jaw tightened. She glanced at Rohan. “At least let him leave.”

My voice could have cut glass. “No one is leaving this room until I am finished. So start talking, Cassandra. Now.”

She flinched at the command, her gaze dropping before she forced herself to meet my eyes. The words came out reluctantly, yet laced with a stubborn defiance. “Yes, I told her that. But you can’t deny it. We have a connection, Cassian. One deeper than your relationship with her. It’s a fact.”