~ Chapter 13 ~

For a moment, it was as if time stood still.

Marlena remained rooted to the spot, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She knew now, with absolute certainty, that she and the man before her shared an unbreakable bond. It was him. Alex. The one she couldn't stop thinking about. The one whose image came to her often, unbidden, in scenes of infinite tenderness and great joy that warmed her to her very core. How else could he have intuited where to find her? Only someone to whom she was deeply connected could have done that. To her, no words were needed. No further proof was necessary.

Alex appeared to be struck by the same spell. His limbs seemed to be frozen in place, and all he could do was stare in awe at the woman he had adored his entire adult life. He wanted to run to her, to take her in his arms and profess his love, but that wasn't possible yet. Still, he was going to savour every second of this interval he had alone with her.

She took a first, tentative step towards him. Then, like captives who'd unexpectedly been set free, they couldn't reach each other fast enough. Throwing caution to the wind, he raced in her direction and she in his. They came together in a heartfelt embrace, their grip on each other so tight it was as if they'd never let go. She rested her head on his chest and heard the pounding of his heartbeat, rapid at first, then gradually slowing the longer she remained in his arms. Leaning his face into her hair, he inhaled the freshness, the wonder that was her scent, and he was instantly awash in memories.

"Oh, my darling Marlena. It's been so very long…"

He bit back any further comment. She noticed the abruptness with which he cut himself off, but she was too content to care. Being in his arms, in some inexplicable way, felt like coming home, and she would happily have remained there forever.

Alex inwardly berated himself for forgetting, even briefly, that she needed to remember on her own. His insistence that John not push her wasn't merely a cunning ploy to gain the upper hand. It was advice born of scientific fact – which meant that he had to be mindful as well, so as not to compromise the eventual return of her memories. As he gently loosened his hold, she uttered a moan of protest. He tilted her chin up and locked his gaze on hers.

"You called me for a reason. Let's sit down and talk."

Their fingers interlaced, Alex led Marlena to the log bench. Easing himself down beside her, he waited for her to begin.

"How did you find me?" she asked, her eyes bright with interest.

The question rendered Alex temporarily speechless. How could he explain, without divulging more than he meant to? Wheels turning, he struggled to come up with a plausible story, and his distress grew as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly, he was surprised by a gentle squeeze of his arm.

"It's okay. It's not important. All that matters is that you're here."

His relief was tangible, and she smiled at having been able to grant him a reprieve. Even though she was curious, she had come to the realization that there were things Alex simply couldn't tell her, for whatever reason, and she accepted that. She hoped he would trust her, in time, just as she trusted him. Implicitly. Without reservation. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and she was rewarded when his hand, seemingly of its own volition, began to stroke her hair.

"You said you'd remembered something," he prompted her. "Do you still want to share that with me?"

"I want to share everything with you," she blurted out. A blush tinted her cheeks, and she averted her gaze. "I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

I do. You're starting to remember the past. You're remembering me. You're remembering us.

"No worries. I've told you before to go with the flow. I want you to feel you can say anything to me."

Silently nodding her agreement, she took a few moments to marshal her thoughts. The memories that had resurfaced were painful, and although she had complete confidence in him, they were still difficult to talk about. Finally, after a number of deep breaths, she began.

"I've been here before. Many times, I think. But they weren't happy times."

"Why do you say that?"

"In the images I've recalled, I was always here alone."

"Being by yourself isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"You're right. But I believe that I was extremely lonely. I've had visions of myself, sitting on this very bench…" Her words trailed off.

"What is it?" he asked gently, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it directly from her.

"I'm crying," she responded haltingly, the emotions washing over her as if she were experiencing them once more. "Not little tears, but great, gulping sobs. It's clear to me that I was desperately unhappy, but I have no idea why."

Marlena began to weep softly. Alex held her in his strong arms and gave her the comfort he'd so often wished he could. After a few minutes, she composed herself and resumed speaking.

"Actually, that's not strictly true. I get the sense that I was mourning a great loss – the loss of my true love."

She raised her eyes to his and was stunned to see profound sadness reflected there. He, too, had experienced such a loss, and his grief was palpable.

"You understand. You've felt it, too."

It was a statement more than a question, and he nodded in the affirmative. They sat quietly, absorbing the significance of her breakthrough. Alex was the first to disrupt the silence.

"This love of yours… do you remember him?"

She shook her head regretfully.

"It's like he's there, in my mind, but his name and his face are just out of reach. Everything's foggy, except for the feelings. They're crystal clear. I loved him with all of my heart, and I missed him more than I could bear."

"Do you still love him?"

The query hung in the air between them, and his pulse quickened. Everything hinged on her answer. After what seemed an eternity, she whispered a simple reply.

"I do."