Chapter Thirty-One:
She leaned back against her closed door and shut her eyes. Tightly. Willing her heart to stop racing. Her breathing to slow down. What had happened? What had happened just moments ago with Luis? Her thoughts were muddled. Cloudy. So confused. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. Searching for answers. Clues to her identity. Wishing so hard she could just remember. Remember things the way they were.
She flipped the lamp on her nightstand on. Bathing the room in a soft glow. Reached for the photo and held it up. Studying their faces. It was a picture of her, Luis, and Ali. A family. Taken just a week before by Pilar. She ran her finger across Luis's handsome face and whispered, "Why? Why is it so hard?" She clasped the photo against her heart as she imagined the hurt she was sure was in his dark eyes the minute he discovered she was gone. She didn't want to hurt him.
But she couldn't help it. Every time she pulled away, every time she had to question him about something that held special meaning for them--as a family, as husband and wife--it hurt him. He tried to hide it from her, but she could see it in his eyes. Tears seeped from underneath her lashes. Tears of frustration. Would they ever have the love that she saw so clearly in all those pictures again?
She jerked at his soft knock. Clutching the picture closer. "Sheridan?" he called. Quietly. He didn't want to wake Ali. "Sheridan? Are you okay? Can I come in?" She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. Tried to wipe away her tears before she answered. "Okay. I guess not," she heard him say to himself in a sad voice. "Goodnight."
"Luis. Wait," she called. Pulling the door open. "Don't go." He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. "You're not okay," he said in concern. Standing in front of her and tracing the path of one of her tears. His concern and tenderness only caused her to cry harder. "Shhh," he soothed. Taking her into his arms. Running his hands up and down her back in an effort to calm her. "It's okay. Go ahead and cry."
She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. Grateful he was there to hold her. Feeling selfish for being grateful. "Why do you put up with me?" she asked. Stepping out of his warm, comforting embrace.
He just smiled at her. Took one of her hands in his own. Threading his fingers through hers. "Easy," he said as he brushed her blond hair back off her face. "Because I love you," he answered steadily.
She gasped in surprise. The man standing in front of her was too wonderful. Almost unreal. "Even if I never recover my memory?" "Even if," he answered back seriously. "Luis," she whispered. "I'm sorry I ran." "It's okay. I'm sorry I let things get carried away so fast." "It wasn't just your fault. I let you kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me," she admitted with a shy smile.
"Oh, you did, did you?" he teased. Enjoying the blush that crept into her cheeks. "So...what do you say? Was that the best kiss in memory or what?" "Luis," she laughed. Blue eyes twinkling as she playfully punched him in the arm. "That was the only kiss in memory." "Well, we can fix that," he said pulling her close. "And how might we do that?" she said breathlessly. Gazing into his brown eyes. "Like this," he said. Planting a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips. "Luis," she called to him as he walked to his room just down the hall. "That was the best kiss in memory." He laughed. "Goodnight, Sheridan. I love you." "Goodnight, Luis." I love you, too, she thought with a smile.
She leaned back against her closed door and shut her eyes. Tightly. Willing her heart to stop racing. Her breathing to slow down. What had happened? What had happened just moments ago with Luis? Her thoughts were muddled. Cloudy. So confused. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. Searching for answers. Clues to her identity. Wishing so hard she could just remember. Remember things the way they were.
She flipped the lamp on her nightstand on. Bathing the room in a soft glow. Reached for the photo and held it up. Studying their faces. It was a picture of her, Luis, and Ali. A family. Taken just a week before by Pilar. She ran her finger across Luis's handsome face and whispered, "Why? Why is it so hard?" She clasped the photo against her heart as she imagined the hurt she was sure was in his dark eyes the minute he discovered she was gone. She didn't want to hurt him.
But she couldn't help it. Every time she pulled away, every time she had to question him about something that held special meaning for them--as a family, as husband and wife--it hurt him. He tried to hide it from her, but she could see it in his eyes. Tears seeped from underneath her lashes. Tears of frustration. Would they ever have the love that she saw so clearly in all those pictures again?
She jerked at his soft knock. Clutching the picture closer. "Sheridan?" he called. Quietly. He didn't want to wake Ali. "Sheridan? Are you okay? Can I come in?" She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. Tried to wipe away her tears before she answered. "Okay. I guess not," she heard him say to himself in a sad voice. "Goodnight."
"Luis. Wait," she called. Pulling the door open. "Don't go." He stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly. "You're not okay," he said in concern. Standing in front of her and tracing the path of one of her tears. His concern and tenderness only caused her to cry harder. "Shhh," he soothed. Taking her into his arms. Running his hands up and down her back in an effort to calm her. "It's okay. Go ahead and cry."
She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed. Grateful he was there to hold her. Feeling selfish for being grateful. "Why do you put up with me?" she asked. Stepping out of his warm, comforting embrace.
He just smiled at her. Took one of her hands in his own. Threading his fingers through hers. "Easy," he said as he brushed her blond hair back off her face. "Because I love you," he answered steadily.
She gasped in surprise. The man standing in front of her was too wonderful. Almost unreal. "Even if I never recover my memory?" "Even if," he answered back seriously. "Luis," she whispered. "I'm sorry I ran." "It's okay. I'm sorry I let things get carried away so fast." "It wasn't just your fault. I let you kiss me. I wanted you to kiss me," she admitted with a shy smile.
"Oh, you did, did you?" he teased. Enjoying the blush that crept into her cheeks. "So...what do you say? Was that the best kiss in memory or what?" "Luis," she laughed. Blue eyes twinkling as she playfully punched him in the arm. "That was the only kiss in memory." "Well, we can fix that," he said pulling her close. "And how might we do that?" she said breathlessly. Gazing into his brown eyes. "Like this," he said. Planting a sweet, lingering kiss on her lips. "Luis," she called to him as he walked to his room just down the hall. "That was the best kiss in memory." He laughed. "Goodnight, Sheridan. I love you." "Goodnight, Luis." I love you, too, she thought with a smile.