62

62
Dr. Moore's pen hovered, ready. "Tell me about that day June fifth. What happened after breakfast?"

Savannah swallowed hard. “It started so… normal. Marcus made pancakes. Blueberry. My favorite. He sang 'Happy Birthday' in that off-key voice and brought me coffee in bed.” She smiled faintly, as if remembering something far off. “He even put a candle in the pancake stack.”

Dr. Moore said nothing. She waited.

Savannah’s smile faded. “After breakfast, he left for a meeting. I had the day off. I was supposed to go to the spa, but I didn’t. I ended up walking instead. Just... wandering.”

She looked down at her hands, her thumb anxiously picking at the corner of her nail.

“That’s when I saw him.”

Dr. Moore tilted her head slightly. “Damien?”

Savannah nodded. “I didn’t know his name yet. He was leaning against a black car outside the bookstore. Just… watching people. Sunglasses. Black shirt. Tattoos. That kind of man.” Her voice lowered. “The kind you don’t look at too long if you’re smart.”

"And you looked?"

She nodded again, slowly. “Only for a second. But it was enough. He looked back. Straight through me. I felt it everywhere, like he touched my pulse. I crossed the street to get away.”

"But?"

“I didn’t go home.” Savannah’s throat tightened. “I ended up in the bookstore. Didn’t even need anything. I just went in.”

The room was quiet except for the occasional scratch of Dr. Moore’s pen. Savannah’s memories were louder than anything else.

Flashback – June 5th

The air inside the bookstore was cool and smelled like old pages and new coffee. Savannah drifted between shelves, pretending to browse. She could feel him before she saw him again like a shadow pulling toward hers.

He spoke first.

“You’ve got good instincts,” he said, somewhere behind her.

She turned too fast. He was closer than she expected tall, clean-cut jaw shadowed with stubble, heat radiating from his body like it was stitched into his skin. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak.

“I saw you looking at me,” he said. “Don’t worry. I was looking too.”

Savannah opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

He smiled, not kindly. Not warmly. “You’re married.”

She blinked. “How ”

“The ring. The way you touch it. The guilt in your eyes.” His voice was velvet and blades. “But I’ll make you forget all of it.”

She should have walked away. But she didn’t. Some part of her the restless, aching part wanted to see what forgetting felt like.

He reached out and took a book from the shelf beside her, brushing her hand in the process. The touch was nothing. And everything.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

“I’m not,” she lied.

Damien leaned in closer. “You will.”

Back to the present

Savannah exhaled shakily, returning to the softly lit room. Dr. Moore’s eyes were steady, but not unkind.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Savannah whispered. “I felt like I’d known him before. Like he knew all the things I never said out loud.”

“And when did it become physical?”

Savannah flinched. “The next day. I told myself I was going back to the bookstore for a book I’d left behind. But I knew. I wanted to see him again.” Her fingers twisted the tissue tighter. “He took me to a place outside the city. Said he wanted to show me something. I said yes. I should have said no.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No,” she breathed. “Because I couldn’t. Not then.”

Dr. Moore tapped the corner of the notepad, slowly. “You weren’t just looking for trouble. You were running from something. Do you know what that was?”

Savannah closed her eyes. “Maybe from myself.”