Page 71 of Modern Romance September 2025 5-8
She comes out of the bathroom wearing a white robe, looking like the fulfilment of every fantasy I can’t remember.
“I told you, I can’t do this with you. I’m exhausted. I know you don’t remember what happened, I know you remember me, but believe me when I tell you that you don’t want me.”
“I do.”
“You don’t. You have always had a fantasy in your head. The woman you think I am, the woman you want me to be, and I didn’t do anything to disrupt that for a long time. I just…let myself love you like a fool, but I was foolish because I never knew you and you can’t love someone you don’t know. What we had was lust, insane chemistry. I was young enough and naive enough to think that was all I needed. And yes, the amazing trips, the money, the gifts, all of that made the fantasy that much more compelling, but it wasn’t the real you and it wasn’t the real me. When we had to actually live life together it became abundantly clear.”
I can’t argue with her because she remembers, and I don’t.
“Then let’s get to know each other now. I do not know you and I do not know me. We can find out who I am together. I think I’ve found my secrets,” I say as I set the box down on her bed. “And there are more. I am willing to do all of this with you. With no protection. I will not filter it, and I will have no lies I can tell you because I will be seeing all of it for the first time. Get to know me, Cassandra, as I do. And then decide if you can love me or not.” I make my way to her and I put my hand on her face. “For my part, I know already that I love you. All this will do is make me more certain.”
She looks away from me, but not before I see tears in her eyes.
“If this is what we need to do to put the whole thing to rest then yes, I’ll do this with you.” She takes in a deep, shuddering breath. “I tried to just hate you. I tried to leave. I tried to paint you out of my dreams and it didn’t work. So yes, I’ll do this with you. But it’s a postmortem for me, Dragos. I need you to understand that. I already know that what we were…is dead and gone, and there’s nothing we can do to bring it back.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cassandra
I’M EXHAUSTED ANDI need to sleep. This whole day has been an extended nightmare. But he is standing there implacable and immovable and I know he probably shouldn’t sleep anyway because of the head injury.
But I feel wretched.
Of course, even now with no memories, my feelings mean nothing to him.
Except…
Suddenly he looks at me and his expression changes.
“Cassandra, you are so tired.”
I laugh. “Of course, I am. I got stalked by my ex-husband when I was on a date and then he got shot at and now I’m in Switzerland with his amnesiac ass. That’s exhausting.”
“You were on a date?” he asks, and the moment of him actually caring about my feelings is clearly past.
“Yes.”
“Are you sleeping with him?”
“If I was?”
His eyes go black and I can see him grappling with a rage that terrifies me. I’m immobilized. I’ve never seen him look like this before. There is a violence in his stance that is unlike anything I’ve seen in him before.
Yet, I realize I’ve always known he was capable of this.
“I think… I think I would kill him,” he says, and there is a note of honesty and self-discovery in that statement that seems to jar him as much as it does me.
I know he isn’t speaking in hyperbole. He would kill that poor nice man.
It’s not the first time that I’ve looked at him and had the realization that he isn’t a bad-boy fantasy. He might actually be a dangerous man.
But I’ve told myself, always, that I can handle it. That I can handle him.
“I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at me with genuine regret in his eyes. “I cannot bear the thought of another man touching you.”
“He didn’t.” I don’t know why I feel compelled to give him peace of mind. He doesn’t necessarily deserve it. Maybe it’s for my own comfort. Because I don’t need to share space with him when he’s…like that.
“Good. Now I…” He puts his hand on his forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m not…myself.”
