FABIAN
My heart stopped when Mom looked at me with those vacant eyes and asked who I was. For a split second, I thought we'd lost her completely, that she'd forgotten everyone. But then she'd remembered my son. Just not me.
"Fabian?" Isaac's voice pulled me from the shock. "Why don't we give them some space?"
I nodded numbly, watching as he guided Aiden from the room. Our son glanced back, confusion clouding his features, before the door closed behind them.
Left alone with Vanessa, I approached her bed carefully. "You really don't remember me?"
She studied me, tilting her head slightly. There was none of the pain or wariness that had become so familiar in her eyes. Instead, there was something else—curiosity, maybe even interest.
"I'm sorry," she said, and she actually did sound sorry. "Should I?"
A lump formed in my throat. I'd seen this before, but from the other side. Years ago, I'd been the one with no memory, while she carried the burden of our shared history.
