Page 174 of Carnal

Every ounce of disappointment and hurt I have slaps me in the face. "You don't remember me at all? Is that really true?" No matter what facts I know about this situation, it's hard for me to understand how her mind could be a blank slate when it comes to us.

She bites her lip and looks at the ground.

I sigh. "Why don't we sit down?"

She agrees, walking over to one of the lounge chairs.

I sit in the one next to hers. It's the closest I've been to her since the car ride. I start to reach for her hand but stop myself. She's made it clear she doesn't want me to touch her.

What if she never wants me to touch her again?

I push that thought away because it's too grim for me to consider. I assert, "I know your memory is gone right now, but I'm sure it'll come back."

Fear fills her expression. She inquires, "Will it? Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

She twists her fingers then answers, "Arianna told me that the shot Biagio was giving me was to make me lose my memory. Is that true?"

My chest tightens. The vision of Biagio restrained in the dungeon fills my brain. I respond, "Yes, it's true."

She takes a minute to process the information then asks, "What is it exactly?"

I tell her what I know. "The word on the street is he created a drug he calls 'Forget.' Normally, people take a small amount to try to forget their problems for a few hours. But if he was shooting you up with it daily, it makes me believe that eventually, it'll wear off. Otherwise, what was the point of continuing to dose you with it?"

She closes her eyes. The sun shines hotter, warming my skin. She doesn't open her eyes, and her voice shakes. "Tristano, I want to remember you. I do, but I don't. I only get these little glimpses of you. Well, I should say, us."

She remembers me?

A glimmer of hope ignites in my gut. I sit up and slide my legs toward her chair. "What do you mean? Glimpses?"

She opens her eyes and tears fall. She swipes at them and confesses, "I have these dreams or moments when I'm doing something and your face will pop in my mind. I don't know what it all means. It's never enough to put things together."

I can't hold back any longer. I take a lock of her hair and push it behind her ear. She doesn't flinch, which makes me happy. Yet, I know she still doesn't trust me. "Will you tell me about one of them?" I ask gently.

She sniffles, revealing, "I had several last night when I slept."

I tease, "I'm your dream man. It's why you dreamed about me."

She takes the bait and softly laughs, tilting her head and arching her eyebrows.

That's my girl. Come on, Pina, come back to me.

When she doesn't speak, I ask, "So you did dream about me?"

Amusement fills her expression. A blush crawls up her cheeks. She admits, "I guess you could say that."

"Your sexy little blush is appearing, so I wonder what kind of dream you had about me. Was it dirty?"

She nervously laughs. "Are you always Mr. Funny Guy?"

"I don't know. Am I?"

Silence fills the air. She stares at me.

I blurt out, "Sorry. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

She smiles. "It's okay. It's kind of nice."

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