Chapter Twenty-Seven:
She awoke slowly. Unsure of where she was. Disoriented. She ran a hand through her tangle of blond hair and sat up. Taking in her surroundings. Remembering the night before. Coming home to this place. Playing with Ali. Her daughter, she thought as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and searched the room for her. Where was she?
She jumped when his voice answered her unasked question. "Ali's at my mother's. Playing with Jake." She fixed her blue eyes on him. Stared in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said. She thought she heard him swear under his breath. "Jake's the son of some friends of mine. Ours," he hurriedly corrected. "Um, I guess I'll go and let you get dressed. I made you some breakfast." She smiled at him as he pulled the door shut behind him.
She found him sitting on the sofa. With boxes and books at his feet. A simple breakfast tray waiting for her on the coffee table. He watched her expectantly as she took a bite. "These are good," she said after taking a sip of orange juice. He beamed at her and said, "I thought you'd like them. Considering you practically lived on them when I first met you. Scrambled eggs was the extent of your cooking expertise."
She laughed softly. "An accident. I seem to remember you calling them an accident." His whole face lit up in pleasure at her snippet of memory. "You remember." "Only bits and pieces. Here and there. Fleeting, really. It's so frustrating." His face fell somewhat as he took in her words. He reached for one of her hands and held it in his. Gazed into her eyes. "But you'll remember more and more. I know it. Starting today," he said as he squeezed her hand. Then let it go reluctantly to grab the first of the many books that rested at his feet.
"Here," he said. Offering the book to her. "Pictures of you. Us. Family and friends. I thought it wouldn't hurt. It might even help jog your memory." His brown eyes shone with hope that his wish might come true. Slowly, she eased the book open. And saw a picture of herself. With Luis. They were dancing. The corners of her mouth turned up as she looked at the picture. A laugh stole forth from her lips. She met his dark eyes in surprise when she heard his own soft chuckle.
"This was taken at my mother's birthday party. Right after we met. We got off on the wrong foot when you crashed into my police car. Twice," he said. His beautiful brown eyes dancing with amusement at her gasp of surprise. "I'll tell you about it one time," he promised. "Anyway, this is at my mother's birthday party. We sort of challenged each other to a tango. I was so sure you'd make a fool of yourself. You sure proved me wrong. It was like we'd been dancing together our whole lives."
She matched the smile on his lips with one of her own. And leaned in closer to him as he thumbed through the book. Explaining each and every one of the photos. She recognized Pilar and Theresa in some of them. And another young man who Luis revealed was his younger brother Miguel. He patiently told her the identity of each and every person in the pictures. She committed all their names to memory. Hoping not to embarrass herself whenever they should meet again.
Sometime later, she realized he had stopped talking. No longer looking at the album. But at her. Her breath grew shallow as she felt his eyes on her. She was afraid she'd quit breathing as he tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "I always wondered what you'd look like with long hair," he whispered. She swallowed nervously and turned slowly to look into his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he said seriously.
Her eyes fluttered shut as his face inched closer to hers, and she sighed softly as she felt his lips touch hers. Light as a feather. She opened them to find him staring at her. Tears in his eyes. "You are real. I was so afraid it was a dream. But it's not. You're here. With me," he said. Caressing her cheek. "I'm here. With you," she said. Leaning into his touch. "Oh, Sheridan," he sobbed brokenly. "I've missed you so much." Tears stung her own eyes, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks as she held him. Held him tight. Determined not to let go.
She awoke slowly. Unsure of where she was. Disoriented. She ran a hand through her tangle of blond hair and sat up. Taking in her surroundings. Remembering the night before. Coming home to this place. Playing with Ali. Her daughter, she thought as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and searched the room for her. Where was she?
She jumped when his voice answered her unasked question. "Ali's at my mother's. Playing with Jake." She fixed her blue eyes on him. Stared in confusion. "I'm sorry," he said. She thought she heard him swear under his breath. "Jake's the son of some friends of mine. Ours," he hurriedly corrected. "Um, I guess I'll go and let you get dressed. I made you some breakfast." She smiled at him as he pulled the door shut behind him.
She found him sitting on the sofa. With boxes and books at his feet. A simple breakfast tray waiting for her on the coffee table. He watched her expectantly as she took a bite. "These are good," she said after taking a sip of orange juice. He beamed at her and said, "I thought you'd like them. Considering you practically lived on them when I first met you. Scrambled eggs was the extent of your cooking expertise."
She laughed softly. "An accident. I seem to remember you calling them an accident." His whole face lit up in pleasure at her snippet of memory. "You remember." "Only bits and pieces. Here and there. Fleeting, really. It's so frustrating." His face fell somewhat as he took in her words. He reached for one of her hands and held it in his. Gazed into her eyes. "But you'll remember more and more. I know it. Starting today," he said as he squeezed her hand. Then let it go reluctantly to grab the first of the many books that rested at his feet.
"Here," he said. Offering the book to her. "Pictures of you. Us. Family and friends. I thought it wouldn't hurt. It might even help jog your memory." His brown eyes shone with hope that his wish might come true. Slowly, she eased the book open. And saw a picture of herself. With Luis. They were dancing. The corners of her mouth turned up as she looked at the picture. A laugh stole forth from her lips. She met his dark eyes in surprise when she heard his own soft chuckle.
"This was taken at my mother's birthday party. Right after we met. We got off on the wrong foot when you crashed into my police car. Twice," he said. His beautiful brown eyes dancing with amusement at her gasp of surprise. "I'll tell you about it one time," he promised. "Anyway, this is at my mother's birthday party. We sort of challenged each other to a tango. I was so sure you'd make a fool of yourself. You sure proved me wrong. It was like we'd been dancing together our whole lives."
She matched the smile on his lips with one of her own. And leaned in closer to him as he thumbed through the book. Explaining each and every one of the photos. She recognized Pilar and Theresa in some of them. And another young man who Luis revealed was his younger brother Miguel. He patiently told her the identity of each and every person in the pictures. She committed all their names to memory. Hoping not to embarrass herself whenever they should meet again.
Sometime later, she realized he had stopped talking. No longer looking at the album. But at her. Her breath grew shallow as she felt his eyes on her. She was afraid she'd quit breathing as he tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "I always wondered what you'd look like with long hair," he whispered. She swallowed nervously and turned slowly to look into his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he said seriously.
Her eyes fluttered shut as his face inched closer to hers, and she sighed softly as she felt his lips touch hers. Light as a feather. She opened them to find him staring at her. Tears in his eyes. "You are real. I was so afraid it was a dream. But it's not. You're here. With me," he said. Caressing her cheek. "I'm here. With you," she said. Leaning into his touch. "Oh, Sheridan," he sobbed brokenly. "I've missed you so much." Tears stung her own eyes, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks as she held him. Held him tight. Determined not to let go.