Page 37 of Please Remember

The waitress stops by with our food and saves us from having to say anything further on the topic. It strikes me as strange how he hasn't even attempted to kiss me since I came back. We sleep in the same bed every night, and it's obvious from the pictures in the living room that we were very much affectionate, but he seems to hold himself back with me. I can see his desire sometimes, and it's a heady feeling being with someone who clearly loves me as much as he does.

"Do we have a song?" I ask, biting into the burger and nearly moaning again. "Okay, this is amazing," I say with a mouthful of food. "So good."

He smiles at me. "I know you. I know it's weird considering everything, but I always knew you better than anyone. Even better than you knew yourself. You had little tells that would let me know what you needed or wanted, even when you weren't sure. And to answer your question, we have two, technically."

"Two?"

"Two songs."

"That's not normal, right? To have two songs?"

Laughing, he sets his knife and fork down after finishing the bite he took of his T-bone steak. "The first one is more of an Allie-song than anus-song. You had an obsession, and I meanobsession, with the movieSelenawith Jennifer Lopez. The first time we made love, you put the song “Dreaming of You” on repeat, making it our song."

"That sounds almost cute," I say, taking a fry and dipping it in ranch. "Clearly obsessive, but cute... I think?"

"I was just thrilled you'd thought about having sex with me enough to have a song you wanted playing when we did. It kind of helped me know you were sure."

Moments like this really show me how much Jax cares. He's always cared, it seems, and I feel like he holds the key to my memories. "What's our second song?"

"You're a huge country music fan. I finally gave in, after being forced to listen along with you. It has to be the older stuff, though; I don't like much beyond 2007. Anyway, one night in college, we'd gotten into a fight. We were at a bar, and for some reason, when the song “I Can Love You Like That” by John Michael Montgomery started playing, we moved to the dance floor, our fight forgotten. You decided that night that it would be the song we danced to at our wedding."

I let his words settle over me, and we finish our meals in comfortable silence. It's overwhelming to learn this much about myself and my love, especially because it makes me want to know everything even more. Not just know but remember.Please remember, I beg to myself for the thousandth time today.

There's so much conviction behind Jax's love, and Iwantto remember. Remember us, but more importantly, I want to remember him. I want to share in the memory of our first time together. Did I enjoy it? Did it hurt? Was he gentle and kind, or did he rush it to get the pain over with as quickly as possible to make the rest pleasurable? Did I orgasm?How far had we gone before we had sex? Did we do everything but ravage each other like the horny teenagers we obviously were?

These are all questions I know I can ask and get the answers to, but I'd like to remember them. Know for myself, not know because he told me. That's what I desire more than anything else.

Standing, Jax holds his hand out to me, and I look up at him in confusion. What's he doing? "What?"

"Our song is playing. I'd like to dance with you."

I take his hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. He holds me close, our bodies swaying naturally to a song I know all the words to, even though I can't remember ever hearing it before. The words come out as a whisper as I rest my cheek against his chest, the same way I sleep. His lips kiss my forehead, and for a brief moment, everything feels normal.

"You know the words?" he asks.

"I guess I do," I say and look at him. "Don't know how, but I do."

"Probably the same way I can remember every lyric to an old-school hip-hop song but forget why I walked into a room," he says with a smile. "You still whisper the words."

Frowning, I continue to look into his eyes as we dance. "What do you mean?"

"You only sing when you're drunk. You hate your singing voice, but only after you've had hard liquor will you jump up and sing at the top of your lungs. When you're sober, you whisper the words."

"Is my singing voice really that bad?"

"It's not your best feature, but you can't be perfect," he says.

I laugh and continue to look into his eyes. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss his cheek, our bodies moving to the beat. The look in his eyes tells me he wants more than a peck, but I think he's the one holding back,not me. For some reason, he seems hesitant, and I need him to be ready. I am, but he needs to go at his own pace.

The next song is another slow song, and we stay where we are, Jax holding me close. He moves his mouth to my ear, singing the words to me. His heart races beneath my palm on his chest, his hand over mine, and I know mine beats in time with his.

"I'm really sorry I don't remember you, Jax. I want to. I promise, I do."

"It's okay," he assures me. "I want you to remember, too, but we'll make new memories to share. Just like we would have been making memories this entire time."

Chapter Sixteen

Jax

---