Chapter 2

Chloe arrived looking flustered, her eyes wide with concern.

"Ethan! Jess called, she said..."

Jess cut her off. "He has amnesia, Chloe. He doesn' t remember."

She gave Chloe a look, a quick, sharp glance that I caught.

A warning.

Chloe' s gaze flickered between me and Jess, confusion clouding her face.

"Amnesia?" she asked softly, looking at me.

Her eyes were kind, genuinely worried. Different from Jess' s performance.

"He thinks... well, he' s a bit mixed up about who his fiancée is," Jess said, patting Chloe' s arm. "I told him it' s you, honey. That you' re his fiancée."

Chloe' s mouth opened, then closed.

She looked at Jess, then back at me, a blush rising on her neck.

"Oh," was all she managed.

"The doctor said familiarity might help," Jess pushed on, all business. "It' s probably best if he stays with you, Chloe. In your... I mean, your place together."

My place. Chloe had never even stayed over at my place.

Chloe looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her.

"Jess, can I talk to you for a second?" Chloe murmured, pulling Jess aside.

I couldn' t hear what they whispered, but Jess was doing most of the talking, animated, insistent.

Chloe kept shaking her head slightly, then she' d look over at me, her expression troubled.

Finally, Chloe sighed, a small, defeated sound.

She walked back to me, Jess beaming beside her.

"Okay, Ethan," Chloe said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can... you can come home with me."

Home.

The drive to Chloe' s apartment was quiet.

Jess had insisted on driving us, saying Chloe was too upset.

Jess chattered the whole way, about how worried everyone was, how lucky I was.

I mostly tuned her out, watching Chloe.

She sat beside me in the back, staring out the window, her hands clenched in her lap.

Chloe' s apartment was small, neat, and smelled faintly of vanilla and books.

It was nothing like my place, which was usually a controlled chaos of my projects and takeout containers.

"This is... our place?" I asked, looking around.

There were no pictures of us. No sign of me anywhere.

Chloe flinched. "Yes. Um, most of your things are in the... spare room. We were reorganizing."

A flimsy excuse.

Jess, who had followed us in, jumped in. "Exactly! You know how you are about your space, Ethan. Always wanting things just so."

I didn' t say anything.

"Well, I should go," Jess said brightly, giving Chloe a hug that looked a little too tight. "Let him rest. Call me if you need anything, Chloe."

She gave me a sympathetic smile. "Feel better, Ethan."

Then she was gone.

The silence in the apartment was heavy.

Chloe stood by the door, not looking at me.

"Are you... hungry?" she asked.

"Not really," I said. "Just tired."

"The bedroom is this way," she said, leading me down a short hall.

It was clearly her bedroom. Feminine, soft colors, a stack of novels on the nightstand.

No trace of me.

"I can take the couch," she said quickly.

"No, this is... our room, right?" I said, testing. "I should sleep here. Where do you usually sleep?"

Her blush deepened. "I... um... sometimes I fall asleep on the couch reading."

Another lie, but she looked so uncomfortable, I didn' t push it.

She got me a glass of water, showed me where the bathroom was.

Her movements were hesitant, careful.

She didn' t act like a fiancée. She acted like a kind stranger forced into an awkward situation.

As I lay in her bed, alone, the scent of her vanilla and something clean and fresh on the pillows, I felt a pang of something I couldn' t name.

It wasn' t just the concussion.

It was the dawning realization that Jess, my fiancée, had just thrown me away.

And Chloe, her quiet best friend, was caught in the middle.

Why was Chloe going along with this? Pressure from Jess? Or something else?

I closed my eyes, my head throbbing, but not just from the fall.