SELENE

There are questions you prepare for, and then there are the ones that steal your breath.

"Is that what you're curious about?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain light.

"Yes." Sebastian nodded, his eyes never leaving my face, waiting patiently, expectantly for an answer.

He wasn't joking. That much was clear. The seriousness in his gaze made my chest tighten.

"Well..." I began, choosing my words carefully. "We both agreed not to rush things. Raising children isn't something you decide on in a day." It was the most believable excuse I could summon.

He fell silent, turning the thought over in his mind. Each second stretched, my nerves coiling tighter. I watched his face, searching for any sign that he didn't believe me.

Then he nodded. "That makes sense."

Only then did I realize I'd been holding my breath. I let it out slowly.

"Still," he added, a faint smile touching his lips, "it would be nice to have children around."

I squinted at him. I'd never imagined Sebastian as someone who liked children. Apparently, there were many things about him I'd never known, or never been allowed to see.

"Should we head back to your room?" I asked quickly, steering the conversation away before it could dig any deeper.

"Already sending me to bed?" He teased, pushing himself up from the bench as he glanced at me. "You're surprisingly bossy for someone who looks this gentle."

My eyes widened. "When have I ever been bossy?"

He arched a brow. "Saying we should head back to my room right after I bring up kids sounds a lot like you shutting down the conversation."

I snorted. "I offered it as a suggestion, not a command."

"And you also stole my phone," he added lightly, folding his arms. "While blaming it on the doctor."

"That- that was..." I faltered, scrambling for an excuse that refused to come.

He smiled, clearly amused. "Exactly. No excuse."

I looked away, my lips twitching despite myself. "Let's just go back to your room."

He chuckled, nodding easily. "Okay. Lead the way."

Then, softer, almost absentmindedly, he went on. "I feel better when you're around anyway."

The words struck straight through my chest. Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it. Like it had always been true. Like I had always been his comfort.

I stood and started forward, but before I could take a step, his hand closed around mine.

I stiffened, then looked up at him.

"So you don't disappear again." He murmured, threading his fingers through mine.

I'd lost count of how many times my heart had fluttered today. At this rate, I might develop a heart condition just trying to keep up with it.

Was it wrong to admit that I loved the feel of his hand in mine? The way his thumb brushed softly over my skin. Was this what I had been missing all along?

Maybe... just maybe... I owed amnesia a quiet thank-you for this moment.

Just before we reached the next block leading to his ward, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I paused, fished it out, and sighed when I saw the caller ID.

Ashley.

I answered while Sebastian watched me with quiet curiosity.

"Give me a second, we're almost there." I murmured into the phone, then ended the call.

"My assistant is here." I explained when his gaze lingered on me.

We turned the corner and found Ashley standing outside his ward, two takeaway boxes balanced carefully in her hands. She brightened the moment she spotted us.

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting?" I asked, gently slipping my hand free from Sebastian's as I walked toward her.

"No, I just arrived." She assured me, her eyes flicking briefly to him before returning to me.

I glanced back at Sebastian. "Can you wait inside for me?"

He nodded and stepped into the ward without question.

The moment he was gone, Ashley studied my face. "Are you okay?" She asked softly, passing the boxes to me.

I accepted them with a quiet sigh. "I don't know."

Ashley had been my classmate before she became my assistant, my constant, my safe place. She knew the history of my life, the parts I rarely let anyone see. But she didn't know about the divorce I had been planning. She didn't know about the amnesia either.

"You two look... close." She observed carefully, exactly as I'd expected.

I offered a small, guarded smile. "A lot happened."

She looped her arm through mine. "You'll tell me everything."

"I will." I promised gently. "Just not now."

She pressed her lips together, resigned. "Alright. Later." Then she exhaled. "Work's been hectic without you."

"I heard you've been doing great holding things together." I told her.

Her brow lifted. "Who told you that? They lied."

I laughed despite myself.

"Well," she said, stepping back, "take care of yourself."

"You too." I replied.

She waved as she walked away, and I watched her go, grateful for her presence, and dreading the explanations that would come later.

With the takeaway boxes clutched in my hands, I made my way back to Sebastian's ward. He was standing by the window when I stepped in, his attention fixed on the view outside, as though he was lost in thought.

He turned the moment he sensed me. "Are you done talking to your assistant?"

"Yeah." I murmured, setting the boxes down on the small table. "You must be hungry."

"Not really." His reply was flat, almost distracted. Then his gaze flicked to me. "Are you hungry?"

"Well..." I scratched the back of my neck, suddenly unsure of myself. "I haven't really eaten anything today."

"Then you should eat." He finally left the window and crossed the room. "I'll just take a bite." He added lightly, lowering himself onto the couch.

I let out a small laugh and sat beside him, lifting the lids off the takeaway boxes.

Inside the takeaway boxes were portions of pasta coated in a rich tomato sauce, slices of grilled chicken resting neatly on top. The warmth seeped through the containers, carrying a comforting aroma that made my stomach twist.

"Do you prefer pasta with cream sauce or tomato sauce?" I asked. We'd never really eaten together before, never shared something as simple as a meal, so I had no idea what he liked or didn't.

"I think I prefer tomato sauce."

I let out a small sigh of relief. "Me too."

I handed him a fork from the box, and we began eating in a quiet, companionable silence.

"This is really tasty." He said, taking another bite. Then another.

I'd thought he said he would only have a bite. Not that I minded, but the thought made a laugh slip out before I could stop it.

He turned toward me, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Why are you laughing?"

"You said you'd just take a bite." I murmured, keeping my eyes on my food. "You've taken more than six."

He snorted, wrinkling his nose at me. "It's not my fault the food tastes good." He dropped his fork and straightened slightly.

"Oh-no, I didn't mean for you to stop." I said quickly, panic fluttering in my chest. "You can keep eating."

But his attention had already shifted.

"I'm more curious about why you're barely eating." He said, his gaze steady on me.

I tightened my grip on the fork, as though it might anchor me. There was something about the way those honey-colored eyes looked at me that made my breath catch.

"I..." I swallowed. "I don't really have the appetite."

"But you said you were hungry."

"I know." I said softly, feeling a knot of nerves in my chest. How could I explain that sitting this close to him, sharing a meal like this, made my heart race and my stomach flutter all at once? "I'm hungry, but I don't have the appetite to eat. Does that make sense?"

A smoky glint passed through his eyes, sending warmth rushing to my cheeks.

"No." He said simply.

Yet he didn't look away.

I let out a breathless laugh, the hairs at the back of my neck prickling. "I figured it wouldn't."

Then he spoke again, his voice low and unexpected.

"Would you have an appetite if I feed you?"

I didn't remember my life, but my body remembered her.

SEBASTIAN

The first thing I noticed after waking up was how often my gaze drifted to her.

Not because I was meant to, but because something inside me did it on its own, instinctive, like muscle memory without the memory.

I would be lying if I said it didn't feel strange that she was the only person I could remember. Stranger still was how, even as I struggled to make sense of everything else, I kept being drawn back to her. Part of me whispered that something about this wasn't right, yet another part insisted it was. Both feelings existed at once, tangled and impossible to separate.

Did that even make sense?

I noticed the little things, the way she grew quiet whenever I was near, how her shoulders tensed like she was bracing herself, how her breath hitched when our hands almost touched. And when I asked if I could feed her, the way she froze told me everything I needed to know.

Not about the food.

But about us.

Because what kind of wife tensed like that around her own husband?

She let out a breathless laugh and looked away, her cheeks warming.

I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. Even though a part of me sensed there was more she wasn't saying, I still found myself enjoying this, teasing her, watching the way she reacted so honestly, so unguarded. It amused me more than it probably should have.

"No response," I murmured, leaning closer, "means I'm feeding you."

"You... you don't have to." She protested weakly, waving her hand as if that would stop me.

"Too late."

I took the fork from her fingers, twirled a neat portion of pasta, and lifted it toward her. She hesitated, an awkward smile curving her lips as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then, finally, she leaned in and accepted the bite.

"Good girl." I said lightly.

She laughed nervously, and I was already rolling another portion. "Open your mouth."

Still laughing, she obeyed, chewing slowly before lowering her gaze again, that shy smile creeping back onto her face.

I set the fork aside and reached for the bottle of Coke. Spotting a mug on the table, I poured a generous amount and brought it to her lips.

She looked up at me then-and I caught the way her eyes shimmered, tears threatening but unshed. She laughed again, as if to hide it, lifting her chin to take a sip.

"Wow..." The word slipped out before I could stop it as I watched her turn her face away, blinking too fast, trying and failing to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. "Did I seriously unlock tears with pasta?"

She laughed again, sniffing softly. "The pasta just tastes really good."

"Are you sure it's not because I'm feeding you?" I teased, watching the way her smile slowly returned. I had to admit, I liked seeing it there. A lot.

"I want the grilled chicken." She said, pointing at it.

"Alright." I speared a slice with the fork and held it up to her. "Here."

She leaned in and ate it eagerly, like she'd been waiting for permission.

I chuckled. "See? All it takes is a good-looking feeder like me to bring your appetite back."

She laughed, shaking her head. "You're being so full of yourself right now."

I grinned. "Just admit it."

She only smiled and kept eating.

"You know..." I tapped the fork lightly against the container, watching her instead of the food. "You have a very expressive face. I can practically read every emotion you're feeling."

She lifted a hand to her cheek, startled. "Really?"

Before she could think better of it, I reached out and gently pinched her cheek. "You're not doing a great job hiding them."

She laughed and leaned back into her seat, still smiling. The room grew quiet after that, the kind of silence that wasn't uncomfortable-just filled. I watched her as she absentmindedly rubbed her palms against her dress, fidgeting, stealing glances everywhere except at me.

Was she really that shy?

When our eyes finally met, she flinched slightly, as if she was still adjusting to the idea of me being this close.

"Why are you staring at me?" She asked with a nervous laugh.

I looked away, fixing my gaze on the bed, the pale wall beyond it. "I'm curious." I said after a moment. "About how we met. How we got married."

When I glanced back at her, the smile had already faded from her face. Her eyes dropped to her hands. I noticed then how often that happened. How the past seemed to dim her every time it came up.

I tapped my fingers against my thigh, waiting.

She opened her mouth, closed it. Tried again. No words came. Whatever she wanted to say, it weighed on her.

What was it that she found so hard to voice?

"Actually," she finally whispered. "I-"

"The past isn't important." I interrupted, the words leaving me faster than thought. A strange unease had settled in my chest and I knew that I wouldn't like whatever came next. "What matters is now. This moment. The memories we'll make from here on out."

Her head lifted.

And just like that, her face brightened like I'd handed her something she hadn't known she was hoping for.

***

We ate, and we talked, and somewhere along the way the hours slipped through my fingers without me noticing. I filled the room with silly jokes, half of them not even that funny, but she laughed anyway, adding murmured comments under her breath that made me want to say even more ridiculous things just to hear them again.

I was careful not to bring up the past, no matter how much it tugged at my curiosity. I'd seen how her mood shifted every time it surfaced. Tonight, I wanted her light like this-smiling, relaxed, here.

Before I knew it, night settled quietly outside the window.

I'd already taken a shower and was smoothing the bedsheet when the bathroom door opened. Selene stepped out, wearing the shirt I'd given her earlier. Vincent had brought some of my things in the afternoon, and it occurred to me then that she hadn't brought any of her own.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling shyly.

The shirt swallowed her frame, the sleeves hanging a little too long, the hem brushing her thighs.

She looked... cute. Disarmingly so.

A smile curved on my lips before I could stop it.

"Looks good on you."

She smiled as she always did, brushing her hair back as she stood there, hesitating, as if unsure what her next move should be.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her more closely than I probably should have. She suddenly found the sleeves of my shirt fascinating, her fingers worrying at the fabric as she avoided my gaze. There was an awkwardness between us, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt... gentle. Familiar in a way I couldn't explain.

My eyes drifted down her legs, stopping where the hem of my shirt rested against her thighs. I looked away quickly, shutting down the dangerous turn my thoughts were beginning to take.

"Are you planning to stand there all night?" I asked, lying back and pulling the blanket over myself.

"I..." She bit her lower lip, rubbing the back of her neck, clearly flustered.

"Turn off the light and come here."

She moved toward the switch, slowly, too slowly. Like she was buying time. I wondered what she was thinking, what made her hesitate this much around me.

The light went out, plunging the room into darkness. A moment later, I heard her careful footsteps approaching the bed. She climbed in at last, stiff and uncertain.

I lifted the blanket and draped it over her.

We lay facing each other, our faces only inches apart, the quiet between us charged and delicate. I smiled, unable to stop myself, savoring the closeness.

"You're quiet." I murmured, my gaze never leaving her face.

"That's because I'm trying to sleep." She replied softly, closing her eyes.

"Lucky you." I lowered my voice, letting the words linger. "I'm wide awake. Hard to sleep when your wife is this beautiful."

Her eyes fluttered open again, and she looked at me before smiling faintly. "You're such a tease."

"I'm not lying." A smirk curved my lips. "I might actually fall asleep if you do this." I gestured to my head, half-expecting her to laugh me off.

She did look at me like I was being ridiculous, and I was already about to admit I was joking when her hand reached out. Warm fingers slipped into my hair, caressing gently.

I stilled.

My heart began to pound so loudly I was sure she could hear it. At first, I had told myself to be careful, to watch her, not trust too easily. Something about our situation felt uncertain. That had been my resolve.

But with her hand in my hair, that resolve wavered.

In its place came something else. A need. To know her. To understand her. To hold her closer and never let go.

I wanted to learn what made her happy.

I wanted to be the reason she smiled.

I lifted my hand and covered hers, resting it against my head. I felt her tense, just slightly, but I didn't pull away. Instead, I shifted closer, closing the distance between us. Her breath brushed my face, and her eyes flickered briefly to my lips.

"Selene." I whispered.

She drew her gaze back to mine, her breath hitching as our eyes met.

"I might not remember our past." I said quietly, my thumb brushing over her knuckles as if the motion came from instinct alone. My eyes never left her face. "But I know this..."

I paused, steadying myself. "Right now, I want you here."

Her fingers trembled beneath mine.

"Let's start again." I continued, the words soft but certain. A faint smile curved my lips.

"You and me."

SELENE

I had promised myself I would tell Sebastian the truth today.

But when the moment came, I couldn't bring myself to do it-not after everything we had shared yesterday. Not after the laughter, the quiet conversations, the meal we'd eaten together. Not after lying beside him, breathing the same air. Not after the words he'd whispered to me in the dark.

What was I supposed to do after that?

The question weighed heavily on my chest, leaving me torn between guilt and longing. I knew what the right thing was. I had always known. And yet, the selfish part of me, the part that wanted this fragile peace to last just a little longer won.

So I stayed silent.

And I kept the truth to myself.

There was no point telling him. That was the excuse I clung to, the one I repeated to myself until it dulled the edge of guilt pressing against my chest. The truth would only confuse him. At least, that's what I told myself.

"What are you thinking about?" A raspy voice murmured beside me.

I turned my head and found Sebastian already awake. He lay on his side, facing me, one arm bent beneath his head, his knuckles propping his cheek as he watched me with quiet attentiveness.

I blinked, still not fully accustomed to waking up this close to him. "Nothing." I replied, pushing myself upright. "I should go-"

My words dissolved into a sharp breath as he reached out, his hand circling my waist and gently but firmly pulling me back. The movement stopped me in place, my pulse skidding as I realized he had no intention of letting me slip away so easily.

He leaned closer, his grip loosening though his hand remained firm at my waist.

"Disappearing again?" He murmured, his voice low, almost lazy.

I shook my head quickly. "I just wanted to take a shower."

"Hm." The sound vibrated against my skin as his thumb began tracing slow, absent circles at my side. "And you're planning to get up without doing it?"

I tilted my head, genuinely confused. "Doing what?"

His lips curved into a faint pout.

I frowned, studying his face, trying to decipher what he meant, only to realize he was enjoying my confusion far too much.

"I'm running low on energy." He murmured, a slow smile tugging at his lips. "I need a recharge."

Recharge?

"Are you hungry?" The question slipped out before I could think.

"Yes." His answer came easily, his thumb still tracing idle circles along my side, sending an unfamiliar flutter through my stomach. His touch was doing things to me-quiet, unsettling things I wasn't prepared for.

Then he leaned closer, close enough that I felt his breath brush my cheek.

"But not for food."

His voice dropped. "There's something else I'm craving."

Oh.

Heat rushed to my face as understanding dawned on me.

Right.

I definitely knew what he meant.

I swallowed and tried to look away, but he caught my chin with a single finger, tilting my face up, as though giving me time to pull back if I wanted to. I didn't. My lips parted on a shaky breath as our noses brushed, his warmth so close it stole the air from my lungs. His lips hovered there, a heartbeat away.

Sebastian was about to kiss me. I felt it in the charged stillness between us, in the way the world seemed to narrow until there was nothing but that fragile distance. One small movement, just one, and our lips would meet.

Did I want this? Of course I did.

But my heart wasn't racing with anticipation. It was pounding with fear.

What if he remembered the kiss on the couch? What if, in this moment, another woman's name slipped from his lips? The thought tightened my chest, yet it didn't stop the ache of wanting him. I wanted his kiss. I wanted to know how it felt-again, or maybe for the first time.

His lips were just about to touch mine when the door swung open.

I flinched like a teenager caught doing something forbidden. We both snapped our heads toward the doorway, and there stood the Kingsley family, frozen in place, mouths hanging open. That was when reality crashed down on me. Sebastian was half over me, close enough that there was no mistaking what they'd walked in on.

I scrambled away and sat up, my face burning. Sebastian rolled off to the other side of the bed, muttering something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch.

"Don't you guys know how to knock?" He snapped, irritation sharp in his voice as he dragged a hand through his hair.

"Sorry." Mr. Kingsley said, waving a dismissive hand at Sebastian before turning to June. "Why didn't you knock before coming in?"

"I didn't know they would be..." Nora gestured awkwardly with her hands, trailing off.

I stared at my lap, my heart still racing for reasons I wasn't sure I wanted to untangle just yet.

"So... how are you feeling, Sebastian?" Mrs. Kingsley cut in quickly, her voice a little too bright as she crossed the room, a nylon bag of takeaways rustling in her hand.

Sebastian merely shrugged as he pushed himself upright on the couch, his expression unreadable, as though nothing unusual had just happened.

I slipped off the bed, suddenly unsure of where to place myself, and rubbed at my elbow in a nervous, absent motion.

Mrs. Kingsley's sharp voice cut through the room. "What are you doing just standing there? Don't you know you're supposed to arrange this?" She pointed pointedly at the takeaways as she set them down on the table.

"I'm sorry." I murmured, hurrying forward to do as told.

I had barely reached for the containers when a firm hand closed around my wrist, stopping me cold. I looked up, startled, straight into Sebastian's eyes.

"What are you trying to do?" His voice came out low and tight, edged with something that sounded dangerously close to anger.

I turned instinctively toward my mother-in-law. Her mouth hung open, shock written plainly across her face, as the room fell into a stunned, uneasy silence.

Mrs. Kingsley was the first to recover.

"Sebastian," she said carefully, the smile she forced into place failing to reach her eyes. "I was only asking Selene to help. There's no need for that tone."

His grip on my wrist didn't loosen.

"She doesn't work for you." He replied flatly.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

"I'm your mother," Mrs. Kingsley said at last, her composure stiffening. "And she's your wife. Arranging food isn't beneath her."

Sebastian's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking beneath his skin.

"And ordering her around isn't your place."

His mother scoffed. "When did I order her?" She asked, turning to the others as though searching for support.

No one spoke.

Sebastian turned to me then. His hand finally released my wrist, but the warmth of his touch lingered. "Go sit," he said gently. "I'll arrange it."

Without waiting for a response, he moved to the table and began unpacking the dishes himself.

He had told me to sit, yet I remained rooted where I stood. I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing. I was used to the sharp words, the casual authority in my mother-in-law's voice, the way my sister-in-law echoed it. I had learned to accept it, to endure it.

But this... this version of Sebastian, standing between me and them without hesitation sent a warmth spreading through my chest. I tried to hide my smile, but it slipped out anyway, betraying me completely.

With Sebastian openly defying his mother, the atmosphere in the ward shifted. The air grew strained. I noticed how careful they became, how their words softened, how their confidence faltered.

They spoke of his health. Of the family business. Of things that felt suddenly trivial.

And yet, throughout it all, Sebastian never once let me out of his sight.

***

After days in the hospital, Sebastian was finally discharged. Relief should have been the loudest thing in my chest. Instead, it was dread.

To keep my lies intact, I called Vincent and asked him to bring Sebastian's belongings to the house. Clothes, shoes, the little things that made it look as though he truly lived there. Together, we rearranged the space, added items that had never belonged, filled empty corners with borrowed memories until the house resembled a matrimonial home.

Too convincing, perhaps.

As I stood there, surveying our handiwork, a question gnawed at me. Was I going too far? Was this still protection... or outright deception?

The question lingered as Sebastian stepped inside.

He paused just beyond the doorway, his gaze drifting slowly around the house, taking in every detail as though he were searching for something he couldn't name.

"Does it look familiar?" I asked, watching him carefully.

"No." He replied.

His eyes had settled on the wedding portrait hanging in the living room. It hadn't been there before. I had made sure of that. A married couple was supposed to have their wedding photo on display. At least, that was what I'd told myself when I hung it there.

"Would you like anything?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

"Water." He said, finally looking away from the portrait.

"Okay."

I walked to the fridge, retrieved a bottle of water, and turned back-

He was gone.

A sudden unease crept up my spine. I hurried into the living room and froze.

Sebastian stood between the couch and the table, an envelope clutched in his hand.

My heart stopped.

The divorce papers.

I had forgotten them. Forgotten to hide them. Forgotten to erase the one thing that could destroy everything I'd built.

"No!" I shouted, rushing toward him.

But I was already too late.

Sebastian had opened the envelope.