Chapter 21 Say it again
Rafael
I stared at her across the table, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst through my chest.
"Say that again," I whispered. "Please, say it again."
She looked directly into my eyes. Those brown eyes that should have been green. But even that didn't matter anymore.
"I am Eva," she repeated. Her voice was steady and clear lear. "I don't know how. I don't understand it. But the evidence is undeniable. The DNA. The birthmark. The allergy that developed when Eva died. It all points to one impossible truth. So I accept to be your wife, Eva."
I stood up so fast my chair fell backward. I walked around the table and pulled her into my arms.
She stiffened at first. Her body went rigid against mine. But she didn't pull away.
"Thank you," I whispered into her hair. "Thank you for coming back to me. Thank you for not giving up."
"I didn't give up," she said quietly. "I was never gone. I just didn't remember."
I pulled back to look at her face. There were tears in her eyes. But she was smiling. It was not forced, it was genuine.
"Are you sure?" I had to ask. It felt strange seeing her break easily. "Are you sure about this? I need to know you're not just saying this because you're afraid."
She shook her head. "I'm not afraid anymore. I'm tired of fighting. Tired of not knowing who I am. If the science says I'm Eva, then I'm Eva."
Something in her voice made me pause. It sounded almost like resignation. Like she was surrendering.
But I pushed the thought away. She was Eva. She said it herself. That was all that mattered.
"I'll make everything right," I promised. "I'll give you back the life you had. The life we had together. Everything will be perfect again."
"Will you let Marco go?" She asked suddenly. "From the dungeon?"
The question caught me off guard. "Why do you care about Marco?"
"Because Eva would care. He is your friend. And you're destroying him for trying to help me."
I studied her face. This was exactly what Eva would say. The compassionate Eva who always saw the good in people. Who believed in second chances and would apologize in behalf of any staff who offended me.
"Fine," I said. "I'll release Marco. But he can't stay here. Not after what he did."
"That's fair," she said softly.
I picked my phone and called the guards immediately. "Release Marco from the dungeon. Give him medical treatment. Then have him pack his things. He's no longer part of this family."
The guards left to carry out my orders.
I turned back to Eva. "Is there anything else you want me to do for you?"
"I want to remember," she said. "You said you'd help me remember. I want to know about our life together. Our wedding. Everything."
My heart soared. "Of course. I'll show you everything."
I took her hand and led her back to the car. We drove home in
comfortable silence. She kept looking at me with a strange expression. Like she was trying to figure something out.
When we arrived at the estate, I took her to my office. I pulled out boxes of photo albums and videos I'd kept of Eva.
"This was our wedding day," I said, opening the first album. "You wore your grandmother's lace. You said it made you feel connected to her."
Eva looked at the photos carefully. "She's beautiful," she said quietly.
"You're beautiful," I corrected. "This is you."
She touched the photo with trembling fingers. "I wish I could remember this. It looks like such a happy day."
"It was the happiest day of my life." I smiled, taking her trembling hands in mine and she didn't pull away.
We spent hours going through the albums. I told her stories about each photo. Our first date, our engagement, our honeymoon in Greece. Every memory I had of Eva.
She listened intently and asked questions. She was trying to connect with memories that weren't there.
"I'm sorry," she said finally. "I'm trying. But I don't remember any of this."
"You will," I assured her. "It just takes time. The memories are buried deep. But they'll surface eventually."
She nodded. But she looked exhausted and emotionally drained.
"Come," I said, standing up. "Let me show you to our bedroom."
I led her to the master suite. The room I'd prepared for her. Eva's room.
I’d brought her here before but I had an interior designer upgrade it. I had abandoned it, no one entered after Eva died.
She walked in slowly, taking everything in. The photos on the walls. The clothes in the closet. The perfume on the dresser.
"This feels like a museum," she said quietly. "Like I'm walking into someone else's life."
"It's your life. Our life." I corrected.
She turned to face me. "Rafael, can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"What if the memories never come back? What if I'm Eva, but I can't remember being Eva? What then?"
The question hit me like a punch. I hadn't considered that possibility.
"Then we make new memories," I said firmly. "We can start over and build a new life together."
"Even though I won't remember the old one?"
"Even then. It doesn't really matter, as long as you are here with me."
She nodded slowly. Then she did something that shocked me. She stepped closer and touched my face gently.
"You really loved her, didn't you?" Her expression was chaotic. I couldn't tell what shewas feeling.
"I really loved you." I replied.
"No," she corrected. "You loved Eva. The woman in those photos. The woman with the memories. I'm not her yet. Maybe I never will be."
"You are her." I said again. And I will keep saying it until she believes.
"My DNA says I'm her. But my heart doesn't remember you. My mind doesn't remember our life together. So who am I really?"
I had no answer for that.
She pulled her hand away. "I'm tired. Can I sleep now?"
"Of course. This is your room. You can do whatever you want."
"Will you stay?" The question was barely a whisper.
"What?" I almost choked on my saliva.
"Will you stay with me tonight? Not for anything inappropriate. Just to be here so I won't be alone."
My heart clenched. This was Eva. My Eva, asking me to stay.
"Of course I'll stay." I replied.
She climbed into bed fully dressed. I lay down beside her, careful not to touch her.
We lay in silence for a long time.
Then she spoke.
"Rafael?"
"Yes?"
"Can you promise me that if I figure out I'm not really Eva, you'll let me go."
The request made my chest tighten. But I couldn't promise that.
"Go to sleep, Eva," I said instead. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."