Page 129 of The Broken Keys

“Yeah. It’s been my favorite for as long as I can remember.”

“Maybe, but you changed it when you lived in Paris.”

“Really? It’s interesting to me that you know that.” She studies my face, then sighs. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I can’t smell it.” She shrugs, but the gesture is too casual. “I can’t smell or taste anything. The doctor said some fibers in my brain were stretched during the accident. They might heal eventually, but there’s no guarantee.”

“We…” I stop myself before the sentence fully forms. “I mean, you lost so much in that accident.”

Her eyes sharpen on mine for a fraction of a second. Did she catch my slip? But then she glances away, and the moment passes.

“Yes, I did. Five years of memories, the ability to enjoy food, and my sense of smell.” She picks at a thread on her rocker-style T-shirt. “It’s weird. Everyone keeps telling me about my past, but I can’t find the connection.”

The sadness in her voice cuts deep.

“How are you handling that?” I lean forward slightly, wanting to comfort her. “Emotionally, I mean.”

“I’m fine.” The answer comes too quickly.

“Livianna—”

“You know what the worst part is?” She gazes deep into my eyes. “I can’t even cry properly about it because I don’t remember what I’m mourning. How do you grieve a life you can’t recall living?”

“I don’t know.” I shouldn’t do this, but I need her to knowhow I feel about her. “But if you need someone to talk to about it, I’m always here for you.”

The room grows thick with heavy emotion. I stare at her, willing her to remember our love.

Just when her eyes flick with something that seems like understanding, she releases a laugh. “Jesus to Betsy. I never thought you would be treating me with such… You’re treating me like you like me.”

“I do.”

She stills and her cheeks grow red. “How did I win you over? Seriously. Tell me how our relationship came to be.”

“Well…” I shift an inch closer to her. “You interviewed with me in Paris for a spot in my mentorship program.”

“And…?” She leans sideways against the back cushions of the couch.

The movement brings her nearer to me. She’s not more than a foot away from me, so I don’t move.

“You had a panic attack during the interview and I walked you through it.” I relax into the memory.

I took her into my recalibration chamber and she fell asleep on my chest. What I’d give to go back to that time.

She sinks into the couch and sighs. “You did that before. Remember?”

I think back. “You mean the time on the balcony at your parents’ networking party?”

“Yeah.” She plants her hand near my thigh as if she’s reaching for me. “You helped me. It was the first time I had an anxiety attack, and I was able to come out of it without needing medication.”

“You know, you once told me medication didn’t work for you.” I glance at her wrists. “With all that you’re going through now, how are you managing?”

“I’m doing…okay.” She studies me as if she’s trying to figure me out. “But honestly? I’ve always felt safe when I’m around you.”

My heart stutters. Safe. She feels safe with me even though she can’t remember why. Even though her conscious mind has erased every moment we shared together.

“Livianna—”