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“Casper, I’m here. You need to get better now, okay. I don’t think I can take another scare like that.” My voice cracks with emotion. I kiss his chest and sit up to check if I can see his eyes fluttering the way Frederick and Flora did.
Please, Casper.
“I’m not going anywhere. No more space… I’ve had enough of that. It’s you and me now. Working our shit out by talking… or probably yelling, but no more running. If you could wake up, I think I’d be able to breathe easier. Help me out here.”
Stroking my fingers through the silky strands of his black hair, I watch for any sign that he can see or feel me.
“I got straight out of bed and into Freya’s car. I can’t imagine how rough I look, though I’m probably not as pale as you. Pretend I’ve just made a ghost joke—one you’ve not heard before.”
His fingers twitch, and I gasp, sitting up straight.
“Casper? Hey, can you hear me?” I lean over and kiss his cheek. “I’m here. Come on, I need to see those eyes.”
Fingers squeeze around my hand, and Iknowhe can hear me, even if he can’t look at me yet.
“Casper,” I whisper, half laughing, half sobbing. I probably sound like I belong in a straitjacket. “You have no idea how good it is to feel you squeeze my hand again. I thought I’d lost you—”
With a low groan, like he’s trying to talk, his eyes gently flick open. He tries three times before he finally regains control.
“Hi,” I say, stroking his jaw and sobbing like a baby again, my heart flying. “You’re okay. You’re really okay.”
“Who are you?” he croaks.
I’m instantly frozen, the horror of his words sending a shiver down my spine.
What the hell?
I open my mouth to say something, only to close it when I realise that I have no words. He doesn’t remember me.
Seconds pass as I try to process this new information. I was petrified that he would die. Never did I imagine that his memory could be affected.
“Casper. It’s me. Ainsley.”
His smirk brings out that dimple. “Yeah, I know, sweetheart.”
“Are youkiddingme?” I growl.
He chuckles and then winces. What the hell is wrong with him? I’m not even sorry that laughing hurt him—he deserved it. His hand tenderly covers the bandage over his stomach.
“That’s not funny! I was so relieved you’re alive, then I thought you’d lost your memory.”
“Ainsley,” he rasps.
My name is a prayer on the end of his tongue, like he didn’t think he would see me again, either. I’m not letting him off that lightly. No one can infuriate me the way he can.
“No. How could you even think that was funny? I was petrified you were going to die.” I stifle a sob and wipe my tears away. “You don’t know how that feels.”
“Ainsley.”
“Shut up, you absolute—”
“I love you.”
That stops me dead.
Those three little words I wasn’t sure I would ever hear again. They wrap around me as tightly as he holds me.
“Casper,” I whisper, wiping another tear. “I love you, too.”
