WOOT! It's been like forever since I've updated and I've basically just been starring at my mini laptop screen ever since…Writer's block is a bitch. Although according to my creative writing teacher, there is no such thing…I contest to that…Anyways, I'm so sorry to each and every one of you. This is pretty short but I had a request to update and even if this isn't my strongest chapter it's better than nothing.

Chapter 21

"Hi. I'm Rosemarie Hathaway."

The tall girl in the mirror grimaced. She looked good and everything, in a knee length lavender dress with her dark long hair cascading around her shoulders but she had no idea who she was.

A nervous sigh escaped me. "I'm Rose, it's nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine."

I yelped and turned around, only to find myself looking into a pair of stark blue eyes, which held an unmistakable note of amusement.

"Wh-what are you doing in here?" I exclaimed, both angry and surprised, and yeah, embarrassed. Might as well admit there's a bit of that too.

"Your night and shining armor awaits you outside in your carriage," he said, a sardonic smirk curving his lips.

I exhaled in exasperation. "You-"

I was about to say something along the lines of awful but suddenly his eyes, steel and ice blue, made me freeze up all over. He had her eyes. "Just," I said slowly, trying to shrug off my stiff muscles, "shut up."

A crease appeared between his eyes. "You okay?"

"Dimitri's out there," I say simply.

Christian nodded. "Yep. He seemed pretty eager to me. I'm telling you, that's a keeper, that one."

I sighed.

"Rose," he said, and I caught the tiniest hint of apprehension in his voice. I looked up at him. "You've done this a thousand times."

I surprised myself by laughing, it was a bleak sound. "Yeah," I said, "except for the part where I haven't. Because I don't remember ever having have been with him. I don't how to do this. And his family," I breathed, "I don't-I wouldn't even know what to say."

Christian shakes his head ruefully. "Rose, you've got to start looking on the bright side of things. Just because you don't know who you are—well, it doesn't mean that they don't. You've got to stop acting like you're going through this alone. We're all here for you."

"It's not that simple and you know it. You didn't wake up in Santa Barbra. I did."

"You're right," he says, "I didn't. But I did watch everyone go through hell, and I went through it myself—because we all thought you were dead."

"That's not fair," I mutter, avoiding his eyes.

"Do you really want to go down that road?"

No, I think. I really don't. Life hadn't exactly been treating me nicely of late but somehow I did end up back in Palm Springs with people who I knew loved me. And here I was fretting about it.

"How do I look?" I ask, because we're wasting time chatting and because I've kept Dimitri waiting. For a long, long time.

He smiles genuinely. "You look like Rose Hathaway."

"That is sort of what I was going for," I say, with an eye roll, because even though his words sound silly, they fill me with a wave of calm.

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll probably need all the help I can in that department."

Christian smiles ruefully. "Go."

xxxXXXxxx

Dimitri was waiting for me at the dock, his back was to me as he faced the lake.

For a moment I imagined—no, I remembered—walking towards him, only I didn't hesitate when I saw him and I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face against his back under the twilight reflecting the lake. I—or me, from the memory—could imagine his smile, and pressed myself closer to him. The image was startling and made all kinds of emotions war within me, but for tonight I would push them away.

"You look beautiful."

Dimitri faced me, the movement made my heart race, a half smile shaped his lips.

"Thank you," I said, and when I realized we were merely starring at each other I cleared my throat. "So where to, comrade?"

Dimitri stiffened for a moment and I couldn't be sure but I thought he said, "Just like Rose."

"I was hoping you would agree to see my family again, they really do love you."

"Oh," I say, this isn't entirely unexpected, "Of course I'll see them. They're lovely people."

Dimitri offers his hand. I take it.

The Belikovs are eager and excited to show me pictures of Dimitri and I, and pretty soon I'm caught up in all the hugs and tears that come with reuniting with the people who probably knew me better than I know myself. I find myself in the arms of Dimitri's mother and sisters more than once and sometimes I hold Dimitri's niece Zoya in my arms while the others swoon. And occasionally I meet Dimitri's warm and affectionate gaze and feel something stir inside of me.

He catches my eyes while the others are invested in something Paul said, and cocks his head towards some unknown place. I follow him.

"C'mon," he says, "I want to show you something."

To my surprise he leads me to the garage.

My gaze follows his curiously as he walks towards a large red punching bag. He throws a pair of red gloves at me and I just catch them in time before they fall.

"Punch me."

I laugh out loud, "Excuse me?"

Dimitri arches an eyebrow as if to taunt to me. "I promise not to hurt you."

"Unbelievable," I mutter, but I shrug the gloves on anyways. "You know dinner and a movie would have sufficed too."

He rolled his eyes. "Trust me. It's not your thing."

This for some reason agitates me, that he knows such things about me that I don't really know myself.

"What are you waiting for?"

I realize I'm just starring at him, like before on the dock when he told me I was beautiful, and take a deep breath. I know if I hit it will probably have no effect but for some inexplicable reason I can't bring myself to hit him. "I can't," I mutter weakly. "Maybe we should start with the punching bag."

He shakes his head, "We don't need to."

Again, I'm irritated over the fact that he thinks he knows me so well. I had some practice in Santa Barbra's, the Sage's had a punching bag in their gym and I had pounded at it mercilessly. "Fine. Below the neck?"

He nods. "Give me your best shot."

A low, annoyed sound leaves my throat. "Wouldn't dream of holding back."

I launch my fists forward and Dimitri catches it in his hand, and I do the same thing with my other fist but he catches it again. If you thought I was irritated with him before…I keep hitting him, or attempting to at least. My face is hot from all the exertion I'm putting myself through but I can't bring myself to stop.

"You're holding back."

I snort incredulously. "How about you let me the judge of that."

He grins. "Oh, Roza. This is nothing, just you wait."

Hearing him say my name—my nickname—rubs off me the wrong way and before I can think about what I'm about to do I lift my arm without a second thought and hit Dimitri square in the face with all my might.

Dimitri stumbles backwards and nearly takes me with him and in my attempt to steady him I do go down with him. I pant against his skin and find myself flush against the contours of his hard lean body.

"Crap—I'm sorry—"

Dimitri reaches out, almost reverently and brushes a lock of my hair away from my face. I look at him, startled and fully aware of him and the heat in his eyes. His fingers are like silk against my skin and I don' t really mind that there touching me.

Dimitri.

"Dinner's ready!"

Olena Belikov's voice makes me jump and I climb off of Dimitri's body, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

"You two alright?"

We both look up at Olena, there's a small smile on her face that makes me feel like more than what was going on was happening in here.

"Yes mama," says Dimitri. I sneak a glance at Dimitri and sure enough he's completely at ease. "Everything's alright."

Oh, everything's alright, I think.

Except I don't meet Dimitri's gaze for the rest of the night because I can still feel his fingers, warm and gentle smoothing my hair back and I can perfectly imagine the way he looks at me, full of love and adoration.

And suddenly amnesia is the worst of my troubles.