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Ember turned to him. “What happened?”
“She was my grandmother. And she died when I was a kid.”
Ember put her arms around him. “I’m so sorry, John. What did you see?”
She was still holding him, and he put his arm around her waist. “My father telling me and my sister.”
She pulled back and let go of him. “You knew who they were?”
“Yeah. I did.”
She smiled. “I was hoping it might help.”
“It did. Thank you.” He felt like he should be a little freaked out by the revelation, but it had come to him so peacefully, it didn’t bother him at all.
“We’ll do it every couple of days if you want. If you think it’ll help.”
He nodded. “I think it might.”
“Do you remember names or where you were?”
“No. I just know I was sitting next to my sister and the man talking to us was my father.”
She hugged him again. “That’s really good, John.”
“Yeah. I think it is.” He leaned against the couch and stretched out his legs, then crossed his ankles. “I do have nice legs, don’t I?”
Ember sat next to him and stretched her legs out next to his, which were about six inches longer. “They’re kind of hairy and quite pale. I don’t think you’ve spent too much time inshorts.”
“I told you I wasn’t a shorts guy.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “I think I’m going to be a little sad when you get your memories back.”
“Why?”
“Because you have this whole other life out there that doesn’t include me. I know that’s selfish and plain wrong of me to say. But it’s how I feel.”
He kissed the top of her head. “As I’ve said before. There will always be room for you in my life. We’ve shared too much for me to walk away from you and return to my old life. That’d just make me a jerk.”
She laughed. “And you’re not a jerk.”
“No. I don’t think I am.”
While Ember was braising chicken breasts in a frying pan, she thought about John. She knew he meant it when he said he wouldn’t walk away from her. But she was still worried. If he had a family out there. She shook her head. She’d gone over all of the possibilities so many times. Speculating and worrying about it wasn’t going to do any good. She needed to enjoy the time she had with him. And not think too much about what may happen someday.
John came into the kitchen. He’d put his jeans back on and seemed much more comfortable.
“That smells good. What’re you making?”
“Chicken.”
“Fried?”
“No. Sauteed in butter.”
“Mmm. Do you cook for yourself and your cat?”
“Sometimes. But it’s a lot more fun to cook for two people. My cat is pretty picky.”
