Because Dakota couldn't tell him what she didn't remember herself.
"There he is!" Maya's delighted voice shattered through Dakota's spiraling thoughts like breaking glass.
Dakota watched, frozen, unable to move or speak or even properly breathe, as her sister moved through the crowd with obvious joy and excitement, heading straight toward Ethan. Toward Dakota's Ethan, who was still staring at Dakota with an expression of absolute horror.
Maya reached him, rising on her toes to press an affectionate kiss to his cheek, her hand settling on his arm with the easy familiarity of established intimacy. The gesture sent something sharp and vicious tearing through Dakota's chest, a pain so acute she nearly gasped aloud.
Ethan's gaze finally tore away from Dakota's face, jerking toward Maya as though he'd been physically struck. His movements were mechanical, his responses automatic, like a man operating on autopilot while his mind was somewhere else entirely.
"Everyone!" Maya's voice rang out across the great hall, commanding attention without effort. She was beaming, practically glowing with happiness as she stood beside Ethan. "I know you've all been waiting. This is him, this is Ethan Cross, my fiancé!"
The words landed like physical blows, each syllable driving the knife deeper into Dakota's chest.
My fiancé.
Ethan Cross.
My fiancé.
The room erupted in polite applause and warm congratulations, people pressing forward with well-wishes and excited chatter.
But Dakota couldn't hear any of it over the roaring in her ears, couldn't see anything except Ethan's face, the man she'd been with for three years, the man she'd fallen in love with, the man who'd told her just this morning that he had meetings all day and wouldn't be able to see her until tomorrow.
The man who'd been lying to her.
Or had he? Had he known? Had he realized who she was and chosen not to tell her? Or was he just as blindsided as she was, just as devastated by this impossible situation?
Dakota's mind raced, trying to piece together the impossibility of it all. All those nights he'd said he couldn't stay, claiming work obligations or pack business. All those times he'd been vague about his family, his responsibilities, his life outside their relationship. She'd thought he was being patient with her limitations, not pushing her for information she couldn't provide about her own family and background.
She'd never imagined he was keeping her as some kind of secret while building an entire life with someone else.
With her sister.
"Dada!" Cooper's excited shriek cut through Dakota's thoughts.
She watched in numb horror as the little boy, still holding her finger, suddenly released her and toddled as fast as his small legs could carry him toward Ethan.
"Dada home!" Cooper's pure joy was evident in every syllable.
Ethan moved automatically, crouching to catch the boy who launched himself into waiting arms. "Hey, buddy," he murmured, his voice rough and strained. "Sorry, I'm late."
Dakota stared at them, at Ethan holding the silver-eyed child, at Maya moving to stand beside them both, at the picture-perfect family they created together.
And something in her mind began to fracture.
Because that child, Cooper, with his silver eyes and dark hair, was three years old.
Three years.
The same amount of time Dakota had been back, had been with Ethan, had been living with these impossible gaps in her memory.
She looked at Cooper more carefully now, really looked at him. At the shape of his face. The way he tilted his head. At features that suddenly seemed less like Ethan's alone and more like.....
No.
No, that couldn't be.
But even as her conscious mind rejected the possibility, something deeper, some instinct that lived below memory and reason, whispered a truth so devastating it threatened to destroy her completely.
"Dakota, come here!" Maya was calling to her, waving her over with that bright smile still firmly in place. "I want you two to meet properly."
Meet properly.
As if they were strangers.
As if Ethan hadn't been in Dakota's bed that very morning.
As if the past three years hadn't happened.
Dakota's feet moved without permission, carrying her forward through the crowd toward the three people who represented everything she'd lost, and everything she was about to lose all over again.