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I shake my head. “No. I-I’m fine. It’s going away.”

Sweat beads on my upper lip, but eventually, the sharp pain is nothing more than a dull ache. My mind whirs as the events of the last few minutes come back to me.

Slowly, I open my eyes, finding Ethan’s dark gazed pinned on me, a muscle throbbing against his temple.

“Ethan,” I whisper, “are these visions memories? Why is the past so painful?”

Chapter 37

Present: Nine Years After the Accident—Thirty-Three Years Old

Twenty-one.

I throw myself into another lap, my arms thrusting forward as my body rips through the water at five forty in the morning. I should’ve stopped at the twentieth lap. That’s my routine—a routine that has carried me through eight dark years without her.

I have a shit ton of work waiting for me in the office. Under my direction, Trey has unearthed more suspicious financial transactions and Liam has sent me preliminary findings to review.

I should stop fucking around in the pool and go back to my damn routine and responsibilities.

But I can’t.

Because my mind is cluttered with thoughts, worries, and impulses.

All about her.

Twenty-two.

I flip under the water and pummel toward the other side of the pool inside The Orchid, my butterfly strokes strong.

I almost broke down two days ago when she sat next to me in the office. When she gazed at me with those beautiful blue eyes, pride shining in them after she drew the house, and realized she could use a story to remember formulas.

My heart splintered then. I didn’t think it could break any more, but apparently, I was wrong.

My Nova carried pieces of me in her broken mind. She remembered what I taught her all those years ago.

But she doesn’t remember me.

What am I doing?

I hurl myself into another lap.

Twenty-three.

The words I said to her the first time I kissed her all those years ago echo between my ears.

“If a rock smacked you on the head and you lost your memories, I’d do everything in my power to make you remember. Even if that meant recreating our love story, reminding you with every touch, every word. Because there’d be no way I’d let you slip away. No way.”

The what-if questions were our inside jokes—they made me laugh whenever I’d read her wild, outlandish questions.

I never thought there’d be a day when I’d be holding onto those answers like a lifeline.

Like my promise to her, I’ve tried over the past year to tease out her memory, all without disobeying her doctor’s orders.

I’ve brought Alexis her favorite foods, asked her about her earrings, made sure I drew attention to the cuff links she gave me. I’ve even asked the Letters of Hope administrator to assign me as her pen pal, hoping trading emails will jog her memory.

Rex thought I was nuts when I insisted Lexy start The Strata revamp project with me, and I’ve been attending every single meeting when I’d normally ask Trey to sit in on these things in the past.

Lana finally cornered me last week after our family dinner.