“And what if they take me, Beau? They’ll want the baby, especially if it’s a girl. I remembered they used to hurt the girls.”
Just the thought of them touching her—or our baby—drives me insane. “That’s not going to happen, Amber. But I do want you to tell me what you remember.”
“I have a sister, don’t I? Where is she?”
“I can’t answer that. Ever since the accident, I’ve been trying to find her. I thought you two still kept in touch, but Ididn’t find anything among your things that could lead me to her.”
“Elodie.”
“Yes. Roman’s looking for her.”
“I don’t remember the last time we spoke. Just distant memories. That part came back.”
“What part?”
“The day we left the compound. And the things that happened there. My sister explaining why we’d always have to run. But when those memories come back, the images of us . . . I think we were really young. I never told you anything about that before?”
“No.”
“Why not? You said I used to travel the country with you, so I guess our relationship was serious, right? I mean . . .”
“What?”
“I’m pregnant with your child, and you don’t seem shocked. If I didn’t mean anything to you, you’d probably think I got pregnant on purpose.”
“That never even crossed my mind.” And it’s the truth. Despite all my trust issues—and in her case, they were warranted—I never thought Amber had tried to trap me with a baby.
I feel the softness of her hair against my fingertips, and I breathe in her unique scent.
The Amber from before the accident drove me wild, but this version of her—fragile, unguarded—is reaching places in me I didn’t even know existed.
“I want our baby,” I say. “Neither of us has a family. You still have your sister, but I’ve got no one. Maybe we can give our child a better life than we had.”
She lifts her head from my chest. “Are you serious?”
“I am.”
“Is that . . . a marriage proposal?”
Shit.
“It’s . . . an agreement to stay together without an expiration date.”
She jumps off my lap, pulling away on the bed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know how I used to be, but I think this new version of me talks too much. I misread what you said.”
“Amber, right now you’re confused and don’t remember anything about us. This isn’t the best time to make decisions.”
“Right. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Either way, I wouldn’t marry you without thinking it through. I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she says, blushing. “But I do have a question. If you’re not scared about the baby and our relationship wasn’t casual, why didn’t I ever tell you about my past?”
I choose honesty. “I don’t think either of us is very good at trusting.”
“How can that be? We shared a bed for months! Is there any greater trust than that?”
I don’t have an answer for that, so I change the subject. “Tell me about that place where you lived.”