Page 74 of Loving Josy
I can’t help but laugh again. “Well, believe it. You were that stupid,” I say with a chuckle.
He grins, shaking his head. “I’m glad I finally pulled my head out of my ass and realized you were the one. Maybe putting a baby in you first wasn’t the most conventional approach, but if that’s what it took to get you in my arms, I’m not complaining.”
“You’re crazy,” I whisper, my voice trembling as I reach out and place my hand over his. My laughter fades almost as quickly as it came, replaced by the ache tightening in my chest. “But seriously, I’m so glad you’re awake.”
I swallow hard, trying to keep my emotions in check, but my heart feels like it’s splintering. He doesn’t remember me. The thought rips through me like a knife, leaving behind an unbearable hollowness. But he’s here. He’s alive. And that has to be enough.
I tighten my grip on his hand, as if holding on to him will somehow bring back everything we lost. “Even if you never get your memory back, I’m just happy you’re here.” My voice cracks, but I push through. “Now that we finally have this chance, I don’t want to waste it. I don’t want to lose you—not again.”
A shaky breath escapes me, and I force myself to smile, even as tears threaten to spill. “We’re in this together. Even if it means reminding you of every little thing we ever did or said, I’ll do it. I’ll tell you our story as many times as it takes. And if your memories never come back… then we’ll make new ones.”
His smile turns earnest, and he nods. “I want to remember. I really do.”
“You will,” I say with quiet determination. A thought crosses my mind, and I squeeze his hand lightly. “By the way, I should call your parents and your friends. They’ll be arriving soon, and I know they’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Okay,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
His words tug at my heart—a bittersweet reminder of everything he’s lost and everything we still have to fight for. Butin this moment, I focus on his smile, his warmth, and the hope that we’ll get through this.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Noah
My headaches haven’t been as bad today. And for the first time since the accident, I feel like I can think clearly, which is a relief. Since I was discharged from the hospital two weeks ago, I’ve been resting in Josy’s bed, my body slowly healing. The deep purple bruises that once covered me are beginning to fade, and while I’m not moving at full capacity yet, I feel stronger every day.
The memories, though? They’re still a blank slate. Every waking moment, I’ve been trying to grasp at the edges of my past, but nothing has come back to me. Josy’s done her best, showing me photos of places in town, telling me stories, even bringing me to spots she says I used to frequent. But it’s like looking into someone else’s life. None of it stirs the faintest flicker of recognition.
My mom is convinced my memories will return soon. She’s so positive about it and I love her for it, but I can’t help the gnawing worry that’s been building inside me. What if I never remember? What if the man I used to be is gone for good?
I need to remember. Not just for me, but for the people around me. My job is a big question mark hanging over my head. What happens if I can’t recall how to do the work? What kind ofcontractor am I supposed to be if I don’t know jack shit about my trade? Esteban’s been patient, though, and I’m grateful for that. He’s promised that if it comes to it, he’ll teach me everything again from scratch. His words ease the anxiety a little, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let him down somehow.
Today, I’m freshly showered and dressed, waiting for Austin and Esteban to pick me up. They insisted on taking me fishing—a hobby they claim I used to love. Apparently, I was good at it, too, but we’ll see about that. Josy told me the outing might help jog my memory, but I’m not holding my breath. Still, I’m looking forward to getting out of the house and doing something other than resting.
The fresh air and the sound of water rushing past rocks all sounds promising, even if my memories don’t resurface. At the very least, I’ll get to spend time with two people who seem to know me well. Maybe hearing their stories will help me piece together the man I used to be. Or maybe it’ll remind me of who I am now.
We’re sitting on beach chairs under a tree, fishing rods in hand, the sound of the creek flowing in the background. The guys have been great, trying to include me in their conversation, though there’s not much I can contribute. Austin even helped me cast my line since I’m still stuck with a cast on one hand. So far, it’s been a relaxing day, even if I’m mostly just listening.
“Noah, how have you and Josy been?” Austin asks, glancing over at me.
“I think we’re good,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “I totally get why I fell for her. She’s beautiful, sure, but her personality isamazing. She’s funny, honest, and patient with me. Is it possible to fall in love with someone all over again?”
Austin grins. “I’d say it’s totally possible. You’re just rediscovering all the reasons you fell for her in the first place.”
Esteban chimes in, nodding. “Man, that’s incredible. Who else gets to say they’ve fallen in love with the same person twice? That’s some storybook shit right there. What you two have? It’s real.”
“Yeah,” I agree, a smile. “It feels real.”
Esteban smirks. “I think is amazing that you and Austin arepussy whipped.Austin with his Violet and you with your adorable sweetheart.”
Austin rolls his eyes but laughs, while I chuckle along. But when Esteban says “sweetheart,” something shifts. The word triggers a wave of warmth and then—BAM!—like a freight train, a splitting headache crashes into me. I drop the fishing rod and clutch my head, doubling over as pain explodes behind my eyes.
“Fuck!” I yell, my voice cracking.
“What’s wrong?” Austin asks, his voice panicked.
I can’t answer. My ears are ringing, my vision’s blurry, and the pounding in my head feels like someone’s swinging a sledgehammer at my brain. Tears stream down my face unbidden, and just when I think I can’t take it anymore, the memories hit me.
One after another, they flash through my mind in a chaotic swirl: Josy, her smile, the way she looks at me, the day she told me she was pregnant, the accident—all of it. It’s overwhelming. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the pain fades to a dull throb. I take a shaky breath, releasing my head, and blink up at my friends.
