LILY'S POV
Lily woke up to the smell of coffee.
Not just any coffee. Her coffee. The kind with too much cream and just enough sugar. The kind she only made for herself in her small apartment with the broken coffee maker that she had to jiggle to get working.
She opened her eyes to find the spot next to her empty. Ethan was already up and moving around, which meant his ribs were feeling better. Which meant he was healing faster than a broken man should.
Which meant the clock was running faster than she'd hoped.
She got out of bed and followed the smell downstairs.
Ethan was in the kitchen wearing a grey t-shirt that hung loose over his healing body. His left arm was still in the cast but he was managing with his right hand, moving around the space like he'd been doing this every morning of their marriage instead of for just the past three days.
He turned when he heard her and smiled. That smile. The one that made her forget why she'd ever wanted to leave him in the first place.
"Good morning," he said, and his voice was warm like honey. "I made you coffee. I wasn't sure if I remembered right but I hoped..."
He set the mug on the counter in front of her. Lily picked it up with trembling hands. She took a sip and it was perfect. Exactly perfect. The way she liked it. The way only he knew how to make it.
Something inside her chest cracked open.
This was the Ethan she'd married. The one who remembered that she took cream and sugar in her coffee. The one who thought about what she needed before she had to ask. The one who looked at her like she mattered more than his empire or his mother's approval or anything else in the world.
She'd spent six months forgetting he was ever like this. It had been easier to remember him as cruel. Easier to remember the cold words and the way he'd looked at her with disgust. Easier to convince herself she'd imagined the man who would wake up early just to make her coffee exactly right.
But he was real. He was standing in front of her right now, doing something so small and so devastating all at once.
"Thank you," she whispered, because she couldn't say anything else without falling apart.
"Are you okay?" Concern flickered across his face. "You look like you might cry."
"I'm fine," she lied. "Just emotional. You shouldn't be doing things like making coffee. Your ribs..."
"My ribs are fine," he said, and he reached out to touch her face gently. "I'm fine as long as you're here."
The physical therapist arrived at nine in the morning. A woman named Sarah who looked like she could break him in half if she wanted to. She was thorough and kind and exactly what he needed to get his body back to working order.
Lily watched from the corner of the living room as Ethan did painful exercises. Stretching his good arm. Moving his legs. Walking slowly around the penthouse like he was relearning how to exist in his own body.
It hurt to watch. It hurt to see him struggle with things that should be easy. It hurt knowing that in a few weeks or months, all of this pain and effort and recovery would crumble when his memory came back and he realized why she was really here.
When the session ended, Ethan was exhausted. He collapsed onto the couch and Sarah gave him instructions for his exercises at home. Ice. Heat. Rest. Gradually increasing activity as his body allowed it.
"He's healing well," Sarah said to Lily as she packed up her equipment. "Better than most patients with this kind of injury. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it. He needs stability right now."
After she left, Ethan called for Lily. She came and found him on the couch, his eyes already starting to close from exhaustion and pain medication.
"Come here," he said, patting the space next to him. "Just for a few minutes."
She curled up against him carefully, avoiding his broken ribs. He wrapped his good arm around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I have an appointment with Dr. Mitchell tomorrow," he said sleepily. "Another checkup. They want to assess my memory recovery."
Lily's heart stopped.
"That's good," she said, even though it wasn't good. It was terrifying. It meant his brain was healing. It meant the amnesia was starting to lift. It meant the clock was ticking faster than ever.
"I hope she can help me understand what happened before the accident," Ethan continued. "There are these fragments in my head. Papers. A blonde woman. Your mother doesn't like you being here. All these pieces that don't fit together."
"Maybe it's better not to push your brain right now," Lily said carefully. "Maybe you should just let the memories come naturally."
"I need to understand," he said, his voice growing heavier as the medication pulled him under. "I need to know why everything feels wrong even though everything feels right when you're here."
He fell asleep before she could answer.
Lily stayed on the couch with him for an hour, just listening to him breathe. Trying to memorize the feeling of being loved by him without him knowing the truth. Trying to hold onto these moments before everything fell apart.
At two o'clock she made lunch. Soup and bread and fruit arranged on a tray. She woke him gently and he ate without complaint, his eyes still soft from sleep. He talked about nothing. About the view from the penthouse. About something funny he'd seen on TV before the accident. About how good it felt to have her here.
At three thirty, he got ready for a follow-up appointment with his regular doctor. He moved slowly, getting dressed in clothes that hung loose on his recovering body. When he was ready, he came to find her.
She was sitting by the window, pretending to read but really just staring out at the city and trying not to cry.
"I have to go," he said. "The doctor's appointment. Daniel is picking me up."
She stood and he pulled her close. His hand came up to cup her face. His green eyes searched hers for something she couldn't give him.
"Kiss me," he said softly. "Before I go."
Lily's chest squeezed tight.
She could do this. She could let him kiss her. She could let him believe everything was normal. She could live in this lie for a little bit longer.
But something inside her that was still trying to be good, still trying to protect him, made her turn her head.
His lips landed on her cheek instead of her mouth.
The hurt that flashed across his face was immediate and devastating.
"Lily?" His hand dropped from her face. "Why did you..."
"I'm just worried about your recovery," she said quickly. "Kissing might be too stressful for your ribs right now."
It was a terrible excuse. He could see it written all over his face that he knew she was lying.
"That's not why," he said quietly. "You're pulling away from me. You have been since I came home. Why won't you let me touch you the way I want to?"
Because if he touched her like that, if his mouth met hers and meant something, she would shatter completely. She would confess everything. She would destroy them both in the pursuit of honesty.
"I'm not pulling away," she said, and her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. "I just want you to focus on healing."
He stared at her for a long moment. Long enough that she thought he was going to push. Long enough that she thought he was going to demand the truth she couldn't give him.
Instead he just nodded.
"Okay," he said, and the word sounded like goodbye. "If that's what you need."
Daniel honked from downstairs and Ethan left the penthouse without kissing her again.
Lily stood alone in the apartment and felt her heart break all over again.
She'd turned away from his kiss. She'd created distance when he was trying to close it. She'd lied when he was asking for the truth.
And now he was starting to realize that something was very wrong.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Daniel.
"He knows something's off. He asked me if you two were okay. Be careful, Lily. This is falling apart faster than you thought."
Lily threw the phone on the couch like it could burn her.
She was right. This was falling apart. And the worst part was she couldn't stop it. She could only watch it happen and count the days until Ethan remembered everything and realized she'd been lying to him the entire time.
Her phone buzzed again.
This time it was an unknown number.
When she opened the message, her blood ran cold.
"Hi Lily. It's Rebecca. I heard Ethan came home. How wonderful. I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of him during his recovery. In fact, I'm planning to visit tomorrow to help with his rehabilitation. It must be so exhausting being his caretaker all alone. Lucky for you, I'm here now to take some of the burden off your shoulders."
Below the message was a selfie. Rebecca, beautiful and cruel, with Ethan's mother Margaret in the background of what looked like an expensive restaurant.
They were planning something.
And whatever it was, it was going to blow everything apart.