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“W-who do you think you are?” I wondered, trying not to let my rocketing heart rate show.
His eyes turned to me.
“I was never going to tell you,” he rasped. “Because I don’t feel like I’m that same person
anymore.”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
My heart rate could be felt in my ears now.
“But too many things don’t add up,” he said. “They never did a DNA test. What was the point? I
clearly had my dog tags on me…” He paused. “But… shouldn’t a dog know its owner?”
Yes.
“Shouldn’t parents who talk to me know who it is they’re talking to?” he pushed.
Yes.
“Shouldn’t my shoes still fit my feet and not change three sizes?”
Yes.
“Shouldn’t something seem familiar?” he asked. “A picture? A pair of my favorite sweats? My
bank? My parents’ names?Myname?”
“Yes,” I voiced that one.
“Nothing does,” he whispered. “Not a thing… until I’m with you.”
My breath hitched in my throat.
And all of the things he’d been doing over these last couple of months started to make me feel a
little lightheaded.
The way that my hand felt right in his. The way that he felt when I hugged him. The way he spoke
to me, deep and soft.
Hell, that was the thing.
He didn’t even ‘sound’ familiar as much as his tone was familiar. And the way that tone made me
feel when he used it on me.
But… still.
I still couldn’t hold out hope.
I wouldn’t, either.
I couldn’t even think the words.
Because giving voice to the hope inside of me? What if he was wrong? What if what I was
