Layla couldn't sleep.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying every word Adrian had said. You loved me once… I never stopped loving you…
How was she supposed to process this?
The idea of a man searching for her, longing for her, should have been romantic. And yet, it terrified her. What kind of life had she forgotten? Why couldn't she remember him the way he spoke about their past, the way his gaze burned with something so deep it made her heart ache?
She sighed and turned to the small table beside her bed. The letter.
She picked it up, tracing the handwriting with her fingers. A.M. Adrian's initials. Had he written this?
Her heart pounded as she unfolded the paper and read the words again.
"My love, if you ever find this letter, it means fate has brought you back. I don't know where you are, if you're safe, or if you even remember me. But I need you to know I never stopped looking for you. I never stopped loving you. Wherever you are, whatever happens, I will find you. And when I do… I'll remind you of the love we promised would never fade."
Her fingers trembled as she set the letter down. Was this truly from him? If so, why hadn't he mentioned it earlier?
A knock at the door made her jump.
"Layla?" Adrian's voice was soft, hesitant.
She swallowed. "Come in."
The door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, wearing a simple black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled. He looked less like the intense man from earlier and more… vulnerable.
"I thought you'd be asleep," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Layla sat up, hugging the blanket to her chest. "I couldn't."
He hesitated, then took a slow step closer. "I know it's a lot to take in. I don't want to push you… but I also don't want to pretend that this isn't real."
She inhaled sharply. "What is this, Adrian? What happened to me?"
His jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. "You don't remember anything?"
"Nothing," she whispered.
He let out a slow breath and sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectful distance. "We were in love, Layla. The kind of love that doesn't just disappear. You once told me that if we ever lost our way, love would find us again."
Her chest tightened. She didn't remember saying that. But why did it make her heart ache?
She looked at him, searching for something anything that would make this feel real. "Tell me something about us," she said. "Something only you and I would know."
A small smile touched his lips, but there was sadness behind it. "You used to steal my hoodies," he said, his voice softer now. "You'd wear them even though they were too big for you, and every time I tried to take them back, you'd say they smelled like home."
Layla's breath hitched. She didn't remember it. But the words made something deep inside her stir like a whisper from a past she couldn't grasp.
She stared at him, and for the first time, she wasn't afraid. She was curious.
"Tell me more," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
And as Adrian spoke, telling her about the love they had shared, the memories they had made, Layla felt something shift inside her.
She didn't remember him yet.
But for the first time… she wanted to.