Page 51 of Human Reform
I let the words trail off, not wanting to push him.Daxon stood close beside me.Even through the fabric of my white T-shirt, I could feel the heat coming off his body.
“Before what?”he asked, his deep voice rough around the edges.
I swallowed hard.“Before I kissed you.”
The memory of that kiss flashed through my mind—the hunger, the urgency, and the way his hands had explored my curves.
“I don’t—” he started but then stopped abruptly.His brow furrowed, and he turned to face me fully.“Wait.I remember wrapping my arms around you and pulling you against my chest.And then thanking you for choosing to stay here and help us.”
My heart leapt.“Yes!That’s right.”
“And I told you I felt happy.”
A lump formed in my throat.“Daxon,” I whispered, hardly daring to hope.“What else do you remember?”
His icy blue eyes studied my face, trailing from my eyes to my lips and then to my neck and back again to my eyes.I could practically see the neural pathways reconnecting behind them, memories slotting back into place like puzzle pieces finding their homes.
“I remember thinking I shouldn’t touch you any further,” he said softly.“That it would complicate everything.And then deciding I didn’t care.”
His hand lifted, hovering near my cheek as if asking permission.I nodded slightly, and his warm palm cupped my face, his thumb tracing the arch of my cheekbone.The sensation sent electricity through my entire body, awakening every nerve ending.
“I’m starting to remember us, Alora,” he murmured, his other hand finding my waist.
Something broke inside me then—the last barrier I’d desperately tried to maintain.Tears spilled down my pale cheeks, hot and unbidden.
“I love you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.“I know it’s impossible—it’s only been four days—but I do.I love you, Daxon.”
His eyes widened, that ice blue suddenly illuminated from within by a bright violet glow.His body went rigid, his fingers tightening against my skin as if anchoring himself.
“Love,” he repeated, the word sounding both foreign and revelatory on his lips.
I watched in amazement as his pupils dilated, his breathing quickened, and something extraordinary happened behind his eyes—like watching circuits connecting, or like witnessing the birth of a star.
“I told Sage this morning that I loved you,” he said slowly but then with increasing certainty.“I told her I’d delete myself if you asked me to.”
The trickle of returning memories suddenly became a flood.I could see it happening—his posture changing, his eyes focusing differently, his entire being transforming before me as his expression shifted from confusion to recognition to joy.
“Daxon?”I gasped, hardly daring to hope.
His smile—that beautiful, bright, perfect smile—spread across his face, and I knew.I knew he was back, fully and completely.
“That shower this morning,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.“The way you knelt in front of me.”
I laughed through my tears, which were now flowing freely.“You remember?”
“Everything,” he confirmed, cupping my face with both hands now.“Every touch.Every kiss.Every moment since you arrived.”
“How?”I asked, stunned by the miraculous recovery.“The layered implementation was supposed to feed your memories back slowly, over days, maybe longer.”
He shook his head, looking as amazed as I felt.“Your word—love.It triggered something in the reprogramming code.Like a priority override.”
I couldn’t stop crying, but these were different tears—tears of pure, unadulterated joy.“It shouldn’t have worked like that.The neural framework should have gone defensive.”
“Maybe some things transcend programming,” he murmured, his thumbs wiping away my tears.“Maybe this was always meant to be.”
He pressed his forehead against mine, his breath warm on my lips.“I’m sorry, Alora.I shouldn’t have implemented the patch without waiting for you.I thought I was making it easier, sparing you from having to choose.I was wrong.”
“You impossible man,” I whispered, gripping the front of his black T-shirt.“No more sacrificing yourself, understand?Not even for the good of the colony.”
