If he had remembered her when they'd first met again, maybe things would have been different between them. If he hadn't spent weeks picturing her in his mind when he could snatch free moments around the insanity his life had become, wondering how she had known him, wondering why he was so drawn to her. If she hadn't made him feel so much like the pubescent boy with his first crush Seifer had taunted him about being the day he'd first seen her.

If he'd remembered her when he'd first met her again, maybe his breathe wouldn't have caught in his throat when she'd laughed and started pulling his gloves and jacket off of him after she'd given him a hug the first time they really had a chance to talk to each other again, telling him that she didn't like all those layers making a wall between them. If he'd remembered, maybe he wouldn't have bitten his lip and swallowed hard when her hand had brushed squeezed his, the first real flesh to flesh contact the less visible walls he'd built up around himself had allowed him to have with anybody outside of a routine medical examine in years.

If he had remembered, maybe she wouldn't have begun making herself think of him as a stranger who just happened to have the same name as the boy she once knew when she realized he'd forgotten, and maybe after her eyes had widened when she realized what the way he was acting meant they wouldn't have softened again just as quickly, her hand shifting to link her fingers with his.

If he had remembered, he was almost certain she wouldn't have pulled him gently forward, she definitely wouldn't have tilted her head up toward him, and there was no way that he would be kissing her now.

Somehow, none of that made him the least bit sorry that he'd forgotten.