a gentleness she remembered from before, he eased her into a sitting position and moved some pillows around so she could lean back. Everything hurt, every breath, every thought.
Seth lifted a glass of water to her lips. The sip stuck in her throat and had to fight its way down.
“Wait.” She managed to lift one arm and push him away. He stopped without her having to wrestle him. He was paying really close attention, which was sweet.
How dare he be sweet?
Then the water went down and it was like it opened her throat and thirst came roaring to life. “More, please.”
Seth eased the water back to her lips and gave her a tiny swallow, then another. She could drink now. She was desperate.
Then as suddenly as she’d been desperately thirsty, she was afraid she’d be sick.
Turning her mouth, Seth was quick to notice that no water was spilled.
“I think I . . . I might be . . . be sick.”
Seth set the glass aside and had a damp cloth ready. Icy cold. In the chilled October night, even in a poorly heated hotel room, the cool cloth felt good.
“Let me press it against your neck.” He shifted her body and it hurt a bit less than it had at first. The cold cloth at the base of her skull eased her nausea.
“I taught you that.”
“You did? I don’t remember learning it. It’s just something I know.” His hands were so strong.
He had a way of focusing on her so completely that she felt like the only woman on earth. She remembered how he’d paid attention to her. But then her memory wasn’t in question, was it?
Their eyes met as her stomach settled. Aching muscles relaxed as she began to hope she’d avoid humiliating herself by needing to empty her stomach.
Not to mention how much it would hurt to vomit. The very thought was agonizing.
And speaking of agonizing thoughts . . . “Seth, why did you leave? What happened?”
His eyes, so vulnerable she’d been done in by them from the first, looked sad. “I’m sorry, Callie. I don’t even know what happened. I—when did I leave, was it?—I don’t remember there being a baby.” He shook his head as if denying he’d done such a thing.
“You don’t even remember there being a wife . Connor wasn’t . . .well, I wasn’t up to traveling for a while; that’s why it took me so long to come after you.”
“He’s beautiful. I have a son.” He leaned close and kissed her.
No warning.
She was sure she’d have refused his kiss if she’d had a chance. The kiss deepened. It hurt, but it was so wonderful to be with him again. Which didn’t match with the burning desire to fill his belly full of lead.
She lifted her arms to pull him closer, and her left one wouldn’t move. But her right one, though sore, moved just fine.
“I remember this.” Seth spoke against her lips.
The words brought tears to her eyes, the gentle kiss clashing with the realization that he’d forgotten all about her.
She turned her head aside. “How could you forget me, Seth?”
Resting his forehead against her temple, Seth didn’t try another kiss. But she remembered it well, the fire that blazed between them. Only her pain and his guilt kept that from happening right now because she’d missed him so terribly.
After long, sweet moments with Seth holding her so gently, Callie pulled back. “How is Connor?”
“He’s sleeping right beside us on the floor.”
“Did he eat? I didn’t have any way to feed him except . . .” Callie fell silent. Then she raised her head to look right in Seth’s eyes. “I don’t even feel like I know you anymore.”
“You kissed me like you know me real well.”
Callie raised a hand to rest on his cheek and pushed him away, not far away but enough that she could think.
“We’re married, Seth. Nothing changes that.”
“And I’ve got a cabin we can move into tomorrow.”
Silence stretched between them. “You don’t know me. You don’t remember your commitment to me, and you can’t say you love me. I’m not