You were with Joey, sitting at an outdoor café eating lunch, when Joey’s cell phone rang. Joey looked at the screen, furrowed his eyebrows slightly, a frown playing across his lips, and brought the phone to his ear.

After a short hello and an inquiry as to who he was speaking with, Joey’s expression changed to one of horror. Right away, you caught the urgency of the phone call, even from the one sided monologue you got from Joey’s end. After Joey hung up, he looked at you, pain displayed across his face. Standing, he made his way around the table and bent down, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, JC,” Joey whispered. You tried to pull away, to get a glimpse at Joey’s face, to understand what was going on, but Joey just held you tighter. Then, as Joey started speaking, your world crashed down around you. Justin, accident, drunk driver, totaled, Justin, hospital. You couldn’t comprehend all of what Joey was saying, but you picked up enough to know you were now living a nightmare.

*****

Later, when you tried to remember, you realized you couldn’t recall the drive to the hospital at all. You were sure it was filled with fear, and pain, and the insane need to puke, but you couldn’t remember it at all. You did remember, however, jumping out of the still moving car and rushing through the hospital doors. You remembered taking the stairs because the damn elevator was taking too long. You remembered Joey’s shouts behind you in the stairwell as you raced up five flights of stairs to reach the ICU area.

And you remembered, with vivid precision, stepping into the dark hospital room. You could remember each and every beep and whir from the machines. You could remember the thick smell of medicine, assaulting your senses. You could remember the sight of all the plastic tubes and wires running from different machines into Justin’s body. But most of all, you could remember seeing your boyfriend, your lover, your partner, your world, lying on the stark white sheets. He looked pale and fragile, almost breakable, laying there, eyes closed and his breathing coming in short gasps, causing his chest to rise and fall swiftly.

And then suddenly, you laughed. It was loud and sounded so very out of place in the quiet room. Joey stood behind you in the doorway, watching with confusion as tears of laugher reached your eyes.

“If only he could see himself now. He looks so helpless. Justin hates to be helpless. This would frustrate him beyond belief.” And just as suddenly as the laugher had come, it stopped, a sob rising deep in your throat and almost choking you on its way out. Joey reached you just before your legs gave out and you collapsed against Joey’s body, your arms wrapping tightly around Joey’s neck. “Why Joey? What did he do to deserve this?”

*****

For the next three days, you never left his room unless you absolutely had to. You sat next to him, silently, and sometimes out loud, begging him to come back to you. Lynn had been called and she spent nearly as much time in his room as you did. She stood by you, arm wrapped around your waist, tears matching yours in her eyes. She would pull you close and remind you how much he loves you, remind you how important you are to him. She would remind you that he would pull through this, for you.

And then suddenly, in the middle of the fourth day, as you sat there watching him, talking to him softly, holding his hand in yours, you saw his eyelids flutter. It was the briefest of movements and if you hadn’t been staring intently at his face, you would have missed it all together. But you were, and you did see it. Your breath caught in your throat and suddenly you were on your feet, leaning down over him, close to his face. You whispered his name, and slowly, ever so slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Blue eyes stared up into yours. And it was the most beautiful sight you could ever remember seeing in your life.

But as fast as relief washed over you, it was replaced by fear. Something was wrong. The look in his eyes told you this much. He was searching your face intently, his eyes, although still slightly glazed over, were curious. He seemed to be searching for some answer and as the moments passed, he still hadn’t found it. Then, in a voice chocked with under-use, almost a whisper, he spoke.

“Who are you?”

Those three small words hit your brain seconds later. You stepped back from his bed, your eyes now wide and searching. You wanted to say something but your voice was lost. He didn’t remember you. You, the love of his life, and he didn’t remember. It was, you realized later, your worst fear, and it wasn’t even something you had ever even had the notion to worry about before.

Lynn took that moment to step back into the room. Her eyes drifted from you, standing against the far wall, holding on tightly, looking like you would fall to the ground if you let go, but, you reminded yourself, you probably would, wide eyes and open mouth, to the bed, where Justin was staring at you intently, still trying to figure everything out, still trying to figure out who you were.

Her joyous yell caused both of your attention to be diverted from each other to her, but then just as quickly, your eyes turned back to Justin as he called to her. His eyes were no longer searching, no longer curious. He remembered her. It was bittersweet and you assumed you should be happy there was at least one person who was familiar to him, but you were still hurting. Selfish, yes, but at that point you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Lynn looked at you curiously as she wrapped Justin in a gentle hug, but you could only shake your head as your turned to leave the room. The tears hit before you had even reached the waiting room. Joey, Chris, and Lance were at your side as soon as you stepped into the door. Somehow, they sensed that these tears were different from the hundreds of times you had cried in the past few days.

They were worried, it showed in their eyes, the concern evident on their faces. You could only shake your head more as they all wrapped themselves around you, each offering comfort that didn’t reach your soul. It didn’t help. Nothing could help right now, nothing except Justin remembering you.

You told them he was awake, told them how his eyes had fluttered open, how he was going to be ok, told them he could move and talk. Then you told them the horrible truth, the truth that he had no idea who you were. Their mouths dropped open, each face mirroring your own from moments before.

They understood your pain, not completely, but in a way. You were all so connected, there was no way they couldn’t understand it. They also knew the connection you and Justin had, on every level of your lives. But their understanding wasn’t enough, it didn’t help.

*****

Lynn approached you later, as you sat in the waiting room, head in your hands, heart heavy. She sat next to you with a reassuring hand on your back. She told you the doctors said it should be temporary, that it shouldn’t last forever. It helped a little, but not much. She told you how sorry she was, and how much, deep down, Justin still loved you.

“It hurt him when I told him who you were, who you are to him, and that he couldn’t remember. He tried baby, he tried very hard.”

*****

It shouldn’t have brought you comfort when he couldn’t remember Chris, Joey, or Lance either. It shouldn’t have brought you comfort to know that you weren’t the only one he couldn’t remember, that you weren’t the only one he blocked out. It shouldn’t have, but it did, just a little.

He remembered his family. Lynn and Paul. He remembered Randy and Lisa and Jon and Steven, but he couldn’t remember you, the group, Johnny, Lonnie, or anyone else connected with Nsync in any way. He remembered spending Christmas two months ago with his family at home in Tennessee, but he couldn’t remember the Billboard awards just weeks before that where he had performed with a broken foot. He remembered when both Jon and Steven were born, but he had absolutely no recollection of being on MMC. He remembered the snowball fight that had happened three winters ago between him and Trace in Central Park, but he couldn’t remember the reason he had been in New York in the first place was because you were all about to release No Stings Attached. And he forgot the reason the snowball fight started in the first place had been because Trace was jokingly making fun of you. Justin had attacked him with snowballs in your honor.

It was as if every memory he had of Nsync, and performing, and anything that went with any of that, had been erased from his memory.

*****

You sat with him, all four of you, and told him stories of the road, stories of fame and fortune, stories of heartache. You shared all the memories the four of you could come up with about Nsync with him. He smiled a lot, laughed a lot, and asked all the right questions. But you could see the haunted look in his eyes. He was trying to remember, wanted to remember, but couldn’t. It pained you to see that look in his eyes.

It was then that your realized how selfish you were being. And you felt ashamed. Here he was, with no memory of most of his life, and all you were concerned with was the fact that he didn’t remember you. His life had fallen apart far more than yours had. And you felt guilty. So you vowed to yourself that you would be there for him. No matter how much it hurt to look into his eyes, remembering a memory the two of you shared and have him look blankly back at you, no matter how much it pained you that you couldn’t lean in and kiss him, because he didn’t remember the kisses and you didn’t want to scare him.

This wasn’t about you anymore. This was about him, and helping him remember all the good times, even if it was only though stories for the moment.

*****

Visiting hours were long over, but the entire staff seemed to understand that you, Chris, Joey, and Lance weren’t visitors. You were, in fact, family. And they let you stay without question. Lynn had gone back to yours and Justin’s house long ago, to get some much-needed sleep. Everyone else had left as well. Justin was tired, you could see it in his eyes, so you ushered the guys up and out of the room. Turning to him, you smiled slightly. You were just about to tell him to get some sleep. You were about to promise that you would be back in the morning. But the look in his eyes stopped you. He looked so afraid and alone. Crossing the room again, it took everything in you not to draw him into your arms and hold him tightly. Instead, you settled with reaching out a hand to rest lightly on his cheek and asked him what he was thinking about.

“Would you. I mean. I just.” You knew the look he was giving you. He had something to say but wasn’t sure how to say it. Finally, he took a deep breath and met your eyes, resolution evident in his own. “I don’t want to be alone. Would you stay with me?” He could have asked you for the world and you would have given it to him. He had known that before all of this happened. But now, you had to remind yourself, he had no idea just how much he meant to you, had no idea how much you were willing to do for him. It broke your heart. But at the same time, you reminded yourself, he had asked, which meant, that on some level he knew there was something between you. He knew it more than just because he had been told. He was comfortable enough with you to want you to stay. So you pulled the chair up to his bed and got comfortable.

“Tell me about us.” His request brought a smile to your face. And so you spent the better part of the night telling him about the two of you. You told him everything you could, all the stories and memories of your life together. You started at the beginning and talked until he was fast asleep, the covers pulled up tight under his chin, a smile grazing his lips.

*****

You spent the next few days by his bedside, going home only to shower and change occasionally. They were keeping him for observation, and you were never far away. It was strange to be sitting by his bed day after day. He was the same person, his persona, his personality, his laugh, his facial expressions. They were all the Justin you knew and loved, but at the same time, he was a different person. The look in his eyes, the look that said he wasn’t quite sure what he was suppose to be thinking and feeling about all of this. That look, that was not the Justin you knew and loved. It was an almost void look, a haunted look, and it scared you. He had also lost the confidence he had in himself, the confidence he possessed for as long as you’ve known him. It was as if he was completely unsure of both himself and the world around him now. He was shy, which was something you had never expected from Justin Timberlake. Yet, considering what he had gone though, what he was still going through, you knew that this had to be normal. There was no way he could have the confidence in himself and be as outspoken as he had been when he had no idea who he really was. You could only begin to understand what he was feeling and you knew there was no way you could ever grasp it completely.

Yet, you stayed. Because the doctors told you he needed what was familiar to his life before to break thought this, because he seemed to need reassurance that everything was going to be ok, and for some reason, even though he didn’t remember you, he had turned to you for that reassurance. Because you had hope that he would break through all of this and that things would go back to normal. But most of all, because even though the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your Justin, but a mere shadow of the man you had known and loved for years, you still needed him, just as much as he seemed to need you.

*****

On the third day, he was released. He was going to the house the two of you shared for now. His parents, both sets of them, were staying there while they were in town, so for now, at least, that was where you were headed. You hadn’t let yourself think beyond their stay in Orlando. You didn’t want to think about the possibility that he would feel more comfortable back in Tennessee with them once they left to go home. You didn’t let yourself wonder if he was going to go with them, although you were pretty sure he probably would. But for now, as you entered the hospital to pick him up, it was enough to know he was coming home, coming to the home you two had built together out of love. For now, it was enough.

*****

The four of you, you Chris, Joey, and Lance, had held a press conference the day before. You had addressed your fans about Justin’s state. You had assured them he was ok, physically. You also explained to them he had no memory of much of anything, but you made sure to strongly state that it was only temporary. None of you were sure how he would handle it if a group of your fans suddenly spotted him and started screaming. So you had begged with your fans. Had told them that their prayers were needed, the flowers appreciated, and their love a blessing. But begged with them to, at least for a while, keep their distance from Justin. You explained he wouldn’t understand what was going on. You reiterated that the four of you would still be around, and loved meeting your fans, but told them Justin just needed time. The response, Lance had found online not two hours after the press conference, had been overwhelming. Fans seemed to understand, and were willing to comply.

The real test would be once he was actually in a public place.

*****

That test came sooner than expected. Sort of. When he was released from the hospital, and the two of you climbed in your car, you realized you needed gas. Stupid really, that you had let it get so low, but there was no way you’d make it home without stopping. So you pulled into the nearest gas station and climbed out. While you were pumping, he climbed out as well and stood, leaning against the car door, hands deep in his pocket, watching you.

You saw a young woman, maybe eighteen, watching the two of you from a short distance off, standing at her own car. She kept looking from you to Justin and back to you. You met her eyes and smiled slightly. She glanced toward Justin again before looking back at you, meeting your eyes again. She had silently asked you if it was ok to speak to him. You silently told her yes. It was one fan, and you were curious how he would react.

She approached tentatively and cleared her throat to get his attention. He turned, slightly, meeting her eyes. You could still see his face and saw the same searching look he had given you the day he woke up, the same searching look he had give Chris, Joey, and Lance when they had finally entered his room for the first time. She said hello and asked him how he was doing. She kept a respectable distance and spoke softly. She kept eye contact and smiled at him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. She seemed completely understanding.

You thanked everyone above for sending someone understanding for his first fan encounter. He told her he was doing ok and that he was, in fact, just heading home from the hospital today.

“We’re praying for you. All of us.” And you knew what she meant. Justin, however, did not. She smiled at you and you silently thanked her with a smile and a nod of your head as she turned to walk away. Once the two of you were back in the car, he turned to you and asked if he was supposed to know who she was.

“She was a fan, Justin. She’s one of the many fans we have out there, and she was just worried about you. They all are.” He shook his head. He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand how complete strangers knew who he was, but more importantly, why they cared enough to worry. You sighed inwardly. How could you explain it to him? How could you explain how devoted all of your fans were when you didn’t even understand it yourself most of the time? How could you expect him to understand that complete strangers knew what he was dealing with and cared when he had absolutely no memory of any of it to begin with?

But you had to try, for his sake. So you told him how people all over the world knew him, how many of those people loved him, at least in some sense. You explained to him how his accident had been national news, world news even, and that all of Nsync’s fans knew what had happened. You tried to get him to understand, even if only slightly, the devotion of your fans. He seemed to understand how people, complete strangers, even to you, knew the two of you, but you knew he still didn’t understand the complete concept of it.

“I’m just me. I’m no one special. Why do they make such a big deal about it?”

You didn’t get it all the time either, and you told him so. But you explained how, to them, it was a big deal. To them, meeting you was like a dream come true. You explained that to them, you both were someone special. All five of you were.

“And you’re someone special to me too, Justin.” He smiled at you, slightly, and you noticed a blush creeping up his cheeks, tinting them to a light red. He turned his face away from you and stared out the window at the passing scenery for a few minutes before you heard a soft thanks escape from his mouth.

*****

The next few days went by quickly, but it was suddenly like you were living another life besides your own. Justin was there, but it just wasn’t the same. Seeing the house, seeing his things still didn’t help him remember anything he had forgotten. On the third day, his parents finally decided they were going home. There was nothing more they could do for Justin being in Florida. Justin decided to stay. It was, you could only guess, a miracle of some sort. You had overhead a conversation between him and Lynn and he had said he wanted to stay. He had said this was his home and that for some reason he felt he needed to be here. And, aside from that, he said, he wanted to be here. He wanted to be with you. Or at least you let yourself believe that.

It was strange living with this new Justin. He was quieter than the Justin you had known all your life. He was more patient and could sit still for longer, not needing to constantly be doing something. He smiled and laughed less, but when he did, it was still the genuine smile you knew and loved so well. He didn’t push your buttons to get you going just because he knew he could anymore, but then, you reminded yourself, he didn’t remember which buttons to push because he didn’t know you. At least not like he had.

One night, not long after his family had left, he appeared in the doorway to your office, leaning quietly against the doorframe, waiting for you to notice he was there. The difference between this new Justin and your Justin hit you once again. Your Justin would have come bounding in amid a flurry of movement and noise, making sure you noticed. You would have smiled and pulled him close before asking him what he wanted. This new Justin got the same reaction as far as the smile was concerned, but you didn’t pull him close to you. His request made you berate yourself. You should have thought of it sooner. You should have showed him sooner. Then maybe he would have been able to understand a little better. It was so simple really. He wanted to watch Nsync.

As you sat down next to him on the couch in your living room, not too close but not too far away, you gauged his reaction as the beginning of your Pop Odyssey Tour started. You watched his face as the fans exploded, screaming and crying. He seemed to be in awe of it and turned to you as the countdown started, asking if this was what it was always like. You nodded and he turned back to the TV. You watched his face as the pyramid lowered, reveling the five of you standing there, you watched as the screams got louder and the music started. You watched his face through the entire performance of “Pop,” trying to figure out what he was thinking. Trying to figure out what could possibly be going through his head. It was hard enough to understand when you were in the middle of it day in and day out. You couldn’t imagine having to understand it being thrown in out of nowhere.

He sat quietly through the entire thing, gazing intently at the screen the whole time, completely enraptured. You paid more attention to him than the actual concert happening on screen. You lived it, you remember it. It was a memory for you. But not for him. When your on screen personas left the stage for the last time, he finally turned his attention away from the screen and on to you.

“Wow,” seemed to be the only word he could get his mouth to form. “It’s just...it’s all so...” he was searching for the right word and you waited patiently. He glanced back at the screen as shots of the audience were shown once again. “Overwhelming.” He finally whispered, meeting your eyes again. “It’s like, I’m suppose to be this famous person who is loved and adored and screamed for by all these people, and I don’t remember any of it. I don’t know that life. How am I supposed to deal with that?” You felt for him, a dull ache rising deep in your chest. He looked so unsure of everything and there was absolutely no way you could understand. As hard as it was to take it all in knowing it was your life, not knowing would have to be a hundred times worse.

He allowed you to pull him into a tight hug as the overwhelming emotions took over. Small tears leaked out of his eyes and he buried his face in your neck. You felt tears reach your own eyes and you cried right along with him. You cried for the life he didn’t remember, you cried for the emotional pain he was going through. And you cried for yourself, for the guilty feeling seeping into the pit of your stomach at how much you needed this hug, how much it actually meant to you. Here he was, breaking down, an emotional mess, and a part of you was happy because he was in your arms again. Yeah, you felt completely guilty.

*****

That night as you slip into bed, you can hear Justin down the hall, getting ready for bed himself. He’s been staying in one of the guest rooms ever since he returned from the hospital and even though you understand, you still miss his warmth in the huge king sized bed the two of you shared before this. Closing your eyes, you let your mind relax, but just as sleep is about to take over, a soft knock reaches your ears. It quite enough that if you had been asleep, it wouldn’t have woken you, but loud enough that since you’re still awake you hear it. You call to him and he opens the door slowly, peaking his head in. He looks shy and a little embarrassed but smiles gently. You motion for him to come in and he does, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Shifting so your leaning against the headboard, you look at him, waiting patiently for him to talk.

Finally his eyes move from his hands resting in his lap to your face. Your eyes connect and you can see something buried deep in his, something that you thought you might have lost forever. It’s not quite the love that used to shine in your direction from his eyes, but it’s close. Understanding maybe, admiration possibly. Maybe a mixture of both. He reaches out to you and squeezes your hand gently for a moment before letting go. Slowly, he begins to speak. He thanks you for being there, for being so understanding and patient. He apologizes for not remembering, for not knowing what it is you feel. You pull him close in a hug for a moment before telling him he doesn’t need to thank you. And that he definitely doesn’t need to apologize. He smiles and you can tell he has more to say.

“I don’t remember what it’s like to love you...” You try to stop him, but he shakes his head. This is something he wants and needs to say to you. “I don’t remember it and you have no idea how hard that is for me. And I can tell it’s hard for you too. But even though I don’t remember it, I don’t remember everything we went through together and everything we felt for each other, I can understand how I fell in love with you in the first place.” You have to swallow against the emotion rising in your throat. He leans into you again. “There’s something there, even now. I feel it.”

His arms wrap tightly around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. It takes you a minute before you wrap your arms around him as well, your mind stuck in the emotion he created within you. You feel soft lips press lightly against your neck and stay there as you hug him tighter to you. And then he’s pulling you down to the bed, wrapping himself around you. And it’s just like it use to be. Memories fly though your brain at light speed and you couldn’t grasp on to them if you wanted to. But it’s ok, because he’s here again and he’s in your arms and you let yourself hope that just maybe things will work out for the two of you. He’s asleep in a matter of minutes, but you can’t get your mind to stop working long enough to meet him there. The guilt is back, although slightly, but so is the joy. Because he came to you, because he wanted this. And that thought makes you happier than you’ve been since all of this started. It seems like it’s been a lifetime since his body pressed up against yours, his warmth slipped into your skin. But he’s here now, and for the moment, that’s all you let matter.

*****

A few days later, you invite the guys over for a cookout. Justin has been letting himself get closer in the past few days, ever since that night, and today is no exception. His looks are a little longer, his smile a little wider, and every now and then, he’ll brush his hand gently along your back when he passed. Sometimes you just smile and let him keep going on his way. Other times, you reach out and pull him into a hug for a moment. You feel him relax against your body each time and sigh contently. It’s not the same. Far from it actually, but it’s something. And it’s getting to be a little more every day.

Chris notices the lingering looks, the soft touches and hugs, and calls you on it. Justin is in the pool with Joey and Lance goes inside to grab more beers for the five of you when he walks up to you by the grill. You tell him you’re not exactly sure what it is or where it’s going to go, but you admit you like it just the same.

“You guys have something special. Always have, ever since the first time I met you. There’s no denying it. Not even losing his memory completely can compete with what you guys share. He’s falling in love with you all over again.” You wouldn’t have been able to stop the smile that hit you face if you’d wanted to. “Just remember this is all new to him. Make sure you take it slow.” You can only nod.

*****

Over the next few weeks, things work themselves out for you. He has fallen in love with you again. He kisses you and lets you kiss him. The first time his lips touched yours in weeks, you’re heart stopped for a moment before starting again, beating twice as fast as normal. It was like entering heaven and it was only then that you let yourself admit just how much you had missed it.

He curls up next to you on the couch while watching TV, resting his head on your shoulder or chest. He slides up behind you while you’re in the kitchen cooking, letting his lips fall against your neck or shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist. He stands in the doorway of your office until you notice him and then lets himself be guided onto your lap, wrapping one arm around your neck while his other hand gently brushes the hair out of your face before laying a soft kiss on your forehead. And he curls up to you every night, wrapping himself around you, falling into a peaceful slumber.

It’s new and different from what you’d known for years, but it’s still just as wonderful as it always was. Even though he’s a different person, more patient and quiet, a little more reserved and a little less confident, you still see traces of the old Justin as well. And more of those traces seem to be appearing on a daily basis. He jokes around with Chris, Joey, and Lance. He lets himself laugh again. The laugh that the public never got to hear. The laugh that you loved best from Justin. He starts singing again, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed the sound of his voice until you heard him singing along to the radio, under his breath, almost absently. You had been walking down the steps and headed for the kitchen when you overhead him in the living room and you simply stopped, the emotion reaching your throat and settling there. Before the accident, he was always singing or humming along to something. Sometimes it was the radio or a CD, sometimes it was just a song or melody in his head. Either way, it was never quiet when he was around, and you hadn’t realized how quiet it had gotten until you had the noise there again. It was probably the sweetest sound you’d ever heard.

*****

Two months after the accident, the two of you lay down together, ready for bed. You lean over and capture his lips quickly before pulling him to you. He moves for a few moments before settling into you, his back pressed against your chest, his hand resting on top of yours that’s around his waist. You wrap a leg over his and close your eyes, sleep hitting almost instantly. When you feel him pull away and jump up to a sitting position not ten minutes later, you bolt awake and sit up yourself, reaching out a tentative hand to rest against his shoulder blade. He’s shaking and lets you pull him to you, resting against your chest. As you rock him back and forth lightly, you ask him what happened, whisper it in his ear. His head tips back until his eyes meet your and they’re the most open and honest you think you’ve ever seen them. Slowly, he opens his mouth to speak.

“We were in Paris. It was a small hotel, kinda crappy really. But it didn’t matter. We had to share rooms at the time and you and I were together. That night we snuck up to the roof because we wanted to see the city at night, from high above it. As we sat there, talking comfortably, reminiscing about the past, about our life together up to that point, I suddenly leaned over and kissed you. You were shocked at first and just sat there, not doing anything. Not kissing me back or pulling away. And I wasn’t sure how to take that kind of reaction. So I pulled away and looked at the ground, embarrassed that I had just done that when you didn’t seem to be into it. But you reached out and tucked two fingers under my chin and lifted it until I was looking at you again. We just kinda stared into each other’s eyes for a while, answering any question that either of us might want to ask with just a look. Then you finally leaned in and kissed me again.”

Slowly, his hand made his way to your cheek, gently caressing the soft skin. You had tears in your eyes. Because somehow, he had just recounted the night of your first kiss. Because somehow, he remembered it. You’re mind was working at lightening speed and all you could do was look at him, the love you felt for him evident in your eyes. And as your mind finally stopped to grasp onto something, you noticed his eyes. The love he felt for you was evident in them as well. It was the tender, loving look he used to give you. It made you cry harder, the tears starting to spill down your cheeks. You pulled him tight to your chest and simply held him.

You weren’t sure how it happened, or what this all meant exactly, but for the moment it was enough to just hold him, knowing he had you’re first memory of loving each other back. It was enough to know that he knew too, that he could share it with you again. It was enough until he turned his lips to your chest, placing the softest of kisses there, until you felt his lips moving, forming words. It was enough until his words reached your ears.

“I remember, baby. I remember everything.”

Then it was enough. More than enough.