51

"Get off of those before they wrinkle and put them away." I smack her ass with a substantial wallop that makes her yelp and run off before she retaliates. Giggling at her show of fierce and knowing she will pay me back for it at some point. We have an immature relationship with lots of play fighting.

I open the door, still smiling, amused at myself, and I'm instantly sobered by Jyeon's tall, imposing self, standing on the other side. Looking intimidating in all dark casual clothes, which add to his dark looks. He catches my happy face, and a slight twitch to the corner of his mouth softens his serious stare.

"What is it?" I don't waste time on niceties.

"I wanted to get a start on seeing if we can bring up any familiarity now you're back in the city. A tour… walk down memory lane. Just the two of us so we and talk freely, without a lawyer and a guard dog." He makes a mild joke about Greta and Bryant, yet I don't find it funny.

"What lane would you be looking to walk? I'm not sure I want to go anywhere alone with you." I pout and cross my arms over my chest. I have no desire to get cosy with him in the name of curing amnesia.

"We grew up together, Sohla. We have a billion memories in this city even before we got married. We can go anywhere, and I'll find something to rekindle one." He sounds genuine and even has hints of warmth in his voice that were mostly missing in the last years of life with him.

"Did I even like you? I don't get the vibe that I did." I know it's immature but poking him with a double meaning is all I have to curb yelling out the truth.

"Come with me and find out." Jyeon pushes past me without invitation and moves to the couch where we threw our coats. He picks up the one I was wearing earlier and my discarded handbag and motions for me to turn so he can put it on.

"What about me?" Greta appears at the door, and Jyeon wastes no time in a cool rebuff without taking his eyes from me.

"Husband and wife time. We have memories I don't want to share with anyone else. Give us this. I promise she'll be in good hands and safe. I have no intention of hurting or pushing her memories with force."

Yeah, because the truth of them won't show him in a good light.

Despite everything, I want to see what it is Jyeon is trying to do. If it's all a ruse and he has ulterior motives, it will be more obvious when it's just us two and his lack of knowledge about what I do know. Greta scowls at him and leans against the doorframe, eyes penetrating him and then looks to me and catches my subtle nod.

"Fine. You can take me on your walk of memory lane but leave Greta with cash to order food. We haven't eaten yet, and there's nothing in the refrigerator. You said you would cover all expenses, so do it." I demand, a hint of my old commanding tone showing face. Greta smirks, and Jyeon doesn't argue. He slides his hand inside his jacket, pulls out his wallet and lays two hundred dollar bills on the couch beside him. I forgot what it was like to be so used to wealth that a hundred dollars was mere pocket change we never thought twice about tipping.

"I'll have my assistant stock the cupboards and refrigerator first thing in the morning and anything else you need. Write a list if you have needs, and I'll take care of them."

"How nice to be rich." Greta snarls his way and turns to swan back off into the bedroom, no wish to be in his company at all. She's been unable to cull her hostility around him, and as much as I'm sure it must confuse him that' it's so venomous, he says nothing.

I get a smile, a nod, and he again comes at me with my outerwear.

"I have arms. I'm capable of dressing myself." I take it from him with a tug and haul it on, turning and stopping at the door to slide my feet into my discarded boots. Today, I'm dressed in jeans and a long woolly sweater and a simple ponytail. Casual and warm for the cooler city weather today. It may be summer, but the wind and temperature have been at odds these past two days. It feels symbolic.

"It's weird how losing your memory reverted you to the girl you were and the kind of clothes you always favoured," Jyeon says aloud, although it's clear it's a mere observation for himself, and I frown at him.

"I wouldn't know," I reply bluntly and pull the door open by myself before he can come and play the role of a gentleman.

"You don't have to be on constant guard with me. I know it may not feel like it right now, but I'm not your enemy. I'm not doing this to make your life difficult. Can you trust me a little? Stop being so abrasive?" Jyeon places a hand on the flat of my back as he follows me out in a guiding motion, and I tense all over. Mentally cursing this awful lurch of my stomach and the flutter down low his touch still ignites even after two years.

"Maybe the fact I apparently committed suicide is an indicator you weren't that great of a husband or friend, and I should trust nothing. Can you not touch me? To me, you're a total stranger, and we have no reason to have physical contact." I snap back, remembering his harsh words from years ago anytime I laid a hand on him. The rebuff, the never wanting my touch, and it feels somehow good to reverse the role and throw it back at him now.