Found this buried on my computer. Enjoy.
"And here we are. Home sweet home."
JJ watches him carefully as he steps into his apartment. His eyes trace the layout of the rooms, the furniture, the hundreds of books strewn amongst the shelves and floor. But she sees zero recognition in his sight. None. Instead, he grimaces.
"What's wrong?" she asks, thinking he might be in pain although the lighting of the room is dim.
"It's green," he says as though the reason for his discomfort is as obvious as the sky is blue.
She smiles at that and laughs softly. She pats the small of his back and gives him a gentle shove forward.
He looks uncomfortable and out of place in the space even though it has been his home for the past ten years. He begins to unbutton his coat, then stops and decides to leave it on. He turns and looks at her, as if asking permission. Without thinking, JJ toes off her shoes and places them on the mat located just inside the threshold. Next, she removes her coat and hangs it on a hook adjacent the door. Spencer copies her actions, then takes a step further into the great room.
He begins to explore and JJ forces herself to let him go on his own terms. She feels sort of like she is intruding, but she also feels the urgency to run about the room picking up objects and informing him of the significance of each item until he remembers. She sees him staring at one particular book. She can't imagine what would make it stand out from the rest, but something has her friend fixated. He brushes his long fingers along the hardbound spine, then stretches them forward again and tugs it from the shelf. She walks towards him and when she is standing close enough, she reads the name Thomas Merton on the cover. He opens the book and flips the pages until a bookmark pops up. Only instead of a bookmark, he pulls out a picture of a woman.
It is a print out of an online article about advancements that were made in a special study done by a local team of geneticists. Maeve is second from the left. Even in the black and white print, her smile radiates kindness.
Spencer points to the woman as if the others are nonexistent. "Who's this?"
"Maeve Donovan," JJ tells him. Her voice is equally as soft.
"She's beautiful." There's a pause as he continues to study the photograph. He ghosts a finger over her face and JJ can see him trying very hard to remember something, anything. His voice is reverent when he speaks. "Do I love her?"
Something inside of her turns and she finds herself feeling incredibly sad. "You did," she says matter-of-factly.
His eyebrows shoot up in askance at the use of the past tense. His mouth forms in a silent o. She thinks she can see tears. His voice husky now, he asks, "What happened to her?"
She decides instantly that she will not tell him the truth. She will not tell him how Maeve had been murdered, right in front of his own eyes. She will not tell him how the mere seconds before her death were also their first official meeting. She will not tell him how strongly he had grieved her; how strongly he still does.
"She was in an accident," she says. It's a lie to her own ears, but Spencer accepts her explanation. He replaces the photograph in between the pages and closes the book. There is an air of finality as he settles it back onto the shelf.
"I love her," he answers his earlier question.