Page 21

Jennifer

D ylan stumbled toward the car, his face pale and his breath coming in shallow gasps. He’d said he needed air, but I could see the storm behind his eyes, memories crashing through whatever walls had been holding them back.

Or doors.

A twin. Mark. How had I not known he had one? I’d thought I knew him, but had I?

Bethany’s voice cut through my thoughts, urgent and steady. “Jennifer, help me get him settled.”

I moved fast, my hands shaking as I opened the back door. Dylan slid in, his gaze distant, like he was seeing something none of us could. I wanted to ask him a million questions—about Mark, what he’d remembered, why he looked so shattered—but the words stuck. Instead, I reached for his hand.

His fingers wrapped around mine firmly. Even in this state, he was anchoring me as much as I was anchoring him.

Steven climbed in and started the car, his jaw tight. But before he could pull away, Dylan straightened in his seat.

“Wait. I don’t want to go back to my place.” His voice was rough, but clear. He glanced at me, then at Steven and Bethany, eyes steady. “Take us to my parents’ house.”

My heart stuttered. His parents? How much had he remembered?

“Dylan...” I started, but my voice wavered. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, but didn’t look upset with me. I didn’t know what that meant. That he remembered and had already forgiven me? Or that that door hadn’t yet swung open. “I have to do this. I didn’t know about Mark until recently and I handled it badly. I handled a lot of things badly.”

“It’s okay. We’ve all made mistakes,” I said.

He let out a sound of disgust. “Me, more than most. I went no contact with my parents, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I want—no, I need to talk it out with them. They’ve been amazing since my accident.

I have so many good memories of them. And regardless of the decision I made to not speak to them, they didn’t give up on me.

I want to thank them for that.” His voice softened, and something in his posture shifted—less anger, more purpose.

“This memory does feel like a crack in the dam. I can’t stop now. ”

I didn’t know what to say. The courage it took to face what he’d once tried to bury—it made me admire him more than ever. But it also terrified me.

Because if one memory led to another... he’d remember everything. Not just his mistakes, but mine.

Bethany twisted in her seat, her tone clinical. “This is big, Dylan. I’m calling your neurologist. We need to make sure this won’t overwhelm your system.”

Dylan gave a single nod, squeezing my hand. “I understand, but there’s not a person alive who could stop me now that I’m this close to getting my memories back.”

Steven met Dylan’s gaze in the mirror. “That’s the first time you’ve sounded like you since the accident.”

I offered a smile I didn’t feel. Not a person alive... including me.

With a groan, I chastised myself for that intrusive thought. Even if I could, I wouldn’t stop him from remembering.

“Dylan,” I asked softly, “what do you think you’ll say to your parents?”

He looked out the window, then back at me.

“I’ll know when I’m there with them. I remember being so angry with them.

I don’t remember a time when I truly believed I was theirs and that they would always be there for me.

But when I forgot I was adopted, and I forgot to be angry with them, I felt loved by them.

” He paused, his jaw tightening. “I remember some of the things I said to them. I was cruel.”

“You were hurting,” I said automatically. “And of course, you felt loved by them. They love you so much.”

He brought my hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

“Always,” I whispered. But even as I said it, fear bloomed under my ribs. Would he soon remember everything? And when he did, would he forgive me as easily as he’d forgiven his parents?

Bethany ended the call. “Dr. Ellis says it’s a calculated risk. There’s no way to know how much of your memory will return. He recommends taking breaks, though, and not pushing. And we watch for distress. Dizziness, nausea, panic—say something immediately, okay?”

“Understood,” Dylan said.

Bethany softened. “You’re doing good. Just take one step at a time.”

I glanced at her, grateful, but caught her studying me . That nurse instinct of hers caught things I couldn’t hide. Was my expression giving away my nervousness?

We drove in silence for a few minutes. I kept expecting Dylan to pull away. But his hand stayed in mine.

“You don’t have to pretend this is easy,” he said quietly. “I got you.”

I blinked at him. How was he still worrying about me? “I am scared,” I admitted. “For me. For you. For us.”

He leaned in and kissed my temple. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”

That landed hard. I nodded, trying to look calmer than I was. “I know.”

Steven cleared his throat. “We’re ten minutes out. I’ve contacted your parents and told them we’re on our way.”

Dylan frowned. “What did you say?”

“That your memories are returning and that the first thing you remembered was how much you love them.”

“You said that?” Dylan echoed, sounding unsure if that was the message he would have delivered.

Bethany cooed, “You really are a big softie, Steven. And I don’t hate that about you.”

Dylan turned and met my gaze. “I do love my parents. I just don’t remember ever being so blunt about it.”

I nodded. “It’s the same with my parents. Maybe, that’s a skill we can work on together.”

“I’d like that.” His smile was wide and genuine, before his expression darkened. “According to Steven, I was a dick before the accident.”

“That wasn’t very nice to say, Steven,” Bethany proclaimed.

“No one ever said I was nice,” Steven responded.

Dylan looked into my eyes for a long moment. “I don’t care how most people see me, but I do care about you and if I was good to you.”

Around the lump in my throat, I said, “You were.”

I didn’t say what I was thinking.

It was me.

I was the asshole.

And you’re about to remember that.