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“Finn!” Charli said more forcefully, shaking his arm with one hand and turning on the lamp next to them with the other. “Baby, wake up. It’s just a dream.”
Yellow light flooded the living room. Finn’s eyes snapped open, as black as the night, terror etched across the lines of his face. Fear permeated the room. His forehead was dewy with sweat.
“Are you okay?” Charli brought her palms up to his rough cheeks, forcing him to look at her.
His gaze focused on her, but the familiarity she longed for was not there. Her husband looked at her as if she was a stranger. Like he hadn’t mapped her body with his tongue just a month ago before leaving for his pre-baby fishing expedition with his Army buddy. Like he never vowed to love her forever.
She dropped her hands to her sides, fisting them. Would he ever regain the memories?
“I . . .” He raked a hand through his hair, searching the room for some unknown threat. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
She sat on the coffee table opposite him, his old T-shirt that she wore riding up her legs. His eyes drifted down with the movement, hesitating a moment before lazily making the ascent back up.
“Was it a memory?” Hope flitted in her chest. Were they coming back?
His eyes snagged on her chest. Her gaze dropped to the loose-fitting top that did very little to hide her body. Her nipples were clearly visible through the well-worn fabric. His stare heated her skin, the familiar hungry look on his face causing her body to respond.
Her attention focused on the dip in his neck, between his collarbone, shining with sweat. His naked, muscular chest was still heaving from the nightmare or the arousal sparked between them—she wasn’t sure which.
Was it coming back to him? Was he remembering her? Charli reached out her hand to his knee. His muscles tensed and bunched underneath her touch.
His gaze dropped to her hand. “Just a nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” The urge to comfort him tugged her closer. She pushed her hand up another inch on his thigh, rubbing circles with her thumb, intending to soothe him.
Finn stared at the connection. “No.”
“Maybe I can help? Do you want a drink of water? Or maybe—”
“No!” He shoved her hand off his leg.
Charli winced. His rejection stung like a slap in the face. He wasn’t remembering her. He’d forgotten her and every special sacred moment they’d spent together. She nodded, willing the tears to be kept at bay. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“I—I’m sorry. I just—I need some air.” Finn got up and headed over to the door. The clunk of shoes being slipped on and the rustling of fabric sounded in the quiet room before the door opened and shut. She glanced out the window as Finn passed before he took off jogging down the street.
“Come back to me,” she pleaded aloud to the empty room.
She got to her feet and headed upstairs. Turning on the lights as she went, she made it into the bathroom. She was too wired to find sleep—of that she was sure. Charli switched on the shower and slipped off her panties before throwing them in the washing machine on the other side of the bathroom. She pulled the shirt over her head and brought it to her nose, breathing his woodsy scent in. Swallowing the lump of emotion that clogged her throat, she tossed the shirt in before stepping into the shower. The hot water sluiced against her sensitive flesh, melding with her tears.
Is our time up? Does our happily ever after end here?
She placed her palm over her belly. “For your sake, I hope this isn’t the end of our story.”
No, she’d fight for Finn, and what they had. Their relationship had never been perfect, but Finn was her soulmate. He was her everything. And right now, he just needed her patience and support. She needed a plan.
* * *
An hour later, she stood in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Finn opened the door, the grey ARMY hoodie he wore soaked through with sweat.
She pulled a Gatorade from the refrigerator and held it out to him as he approached.
“Thank you.” He twisted off the cap and chugged it down before wiping his mouth with his arm.
“You’re welcome.”
His eyes met hers—so many emotions flashed in his. “I . . . do you mind if I shower?” He searched the kitchen, holding up the empty bottle.
She pointed to the recycling bin in the corner. “This is your house too, Finn. You don’t have to ask. Towels are under the sink.”
