“I just need to touch you,” he said. “To have you here. To see you. To feel you again.” Emotion clogged his voice, making it strained and raw. “I thought you were dead. They told me you were dead. I buried you, mourned for you, tried to get on with my life without you. And now here you are. It’s more than I ever hoped or dreamed.”
Her breath caught and hiccupped roughly from her chest. Her insides twisted and squeezed. Tears burned like acid.
“I waited for you,” she whispered. “Over time I thought I’d imagined you. When I forgot everything but my name, I thought maybe I’d made you up and that hope was forbidden to me. I knew you’d come when I knew nothing else.”
He bowed his head, lowering until his forehead touched hers. “I love you, Rachel. So damn much. I know we have a lot to get through, but you aren’t alone anymore. You won’t ever be alone again.”
She closed her eyes, savoring his promise. She was afraid to believe, to hope that after so long her nightmare was over.
“There’s a lot I don’t remember,” she said hesitantly. Would it anger him that she could only remember bits and pieces of their life together? Not only that, but she could barely remember her.
As if sensing her turmoil, he pulled away. He stared down at her, his eyes suddenly troubled. Almost guilty. Her eyes narrowed in puzzlement. What would he have to feel guilty over?
“It’ll be okay, baby,” he soothed. “It’ll come back in time, and we’ll face it together. The important thing is that I have you back.”
“What did she give me? The doctor. I feel...”
“Are you in pain? Do you want me to get her?”
She shook her head. “No. I feel . . .” She mentally examined her physical state. “Quiet. My mind is quiet. My skin isn’t crawling and yet I know it’s there, waiting to come back.”
He gently touched her face, his fingertips sliding over her cheekbone and to her lips. “We’ll beat this.”
She closed her eyes as grief settled, thick and suffocating. “What did they do to me? Why?”
Ethan’s hands stilled on her face. “I don’t know why.” Anger tightened his voice. She opened her eyes to see fury reflected in his. “I won’t let it happen again. I protect what’s mine.”
A peculiar prickle shivered up her spine, leaving a warm glow in its wake. Her chest fluttered, and something inside her long dead awakened and unfurled.
She belonged to this man. He’d keep her safe.
“Tell me about us,” she whispered.
He smiled then, and it transformed his face. Gone was the serious, gruff man, replaced by boyish charm. It was a marvelous thing to behold.
“We were married three years ago.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Oh, not long then.”
His eyes lost some of their shine. “No, not long.”
If she concentrated hard, she could summon distant memories. It was odd. Though she could remember them, it was as if they belonged to someone else. The connection to her hadn’t been forged in her tattered mind.
“Did Garrett give me away at our wedding?”
Ethan stilled and then slowly nodded.
“I remember that. He told me I was the most beautiful bride in the world.”
“And you were.”
“I remember seeing you, waiting for me.”
Ethan hesitated for a moment. “What else do you remember?”
She sighed. “It’s sort of a mess. I mean I remember lots of random things, but I don’t have a clear chronological list of events. It’s like someone’s shooting out-of-order pictures at me.”
“Don’t rush it. You’ve been through a lot. When I get you home, and you feel safe again, you’ll remember.”
She cocked her head to the side for a moment. “How many brothers do you have? I only remember Garrett. Sam . . . he scares me. And there’s another here. Donovan?”
Ethan smiled. “Garrett is usually the one who scares people. Sam is the oldest, but you’d think Garrett was.”
“Garrett wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Neither would Sam,” he said gently. “To answer your question, there are six of us in all. Nathan and Joe are twins and they’re deployed to Afghanistan.”
“Do I have any family? It seems odd that I would remember Garrett but not my own family.”
He shook his head. “You were an only child, and your parents died in a car accident several years ago.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t help the disappointment that accompanied his statement.
“You were very close to my mom, though. She and Dad both loved you like a daughter. You were a part of the family long before