"Nothing?"
"No." How is that possible? How had she not had any form of identification on her? She always had her driver's license on her, not to mention credit cards and a medical card. So many questions stormed his mind, but he saw her confusion, and knew he couldn't demand much-needed answers from her. Yet.
He smiled to himself as he closed his eyes. Relief washed over him as if his search for her had been justified. She'd been honest last night when she said she didn't know him. She didn't remember him. She remembered nothing but still called him Ben, even after being introduced as Benjamin at the awards dinner. He opened his eyes and smiled at her. "I knew you were Grace the second I laid eyes on you."
"You're the only person to recognize me. I'm worried." This time, she didn't shy away. She stared directly into his eyes, and asked, "How do I know you're telling me the truth? I need more information than a name I can't remember. Why should I trust you?"
The sun felt hotter under her questioning gaze. He shook his head as his voice lowered to a somber tone, struggling to hold back the feelings he still had for her. "I would never lie to you. I never have."
"I don't know that though, do I?"
He laughed but found no humor in her words. They hurt. He gulped before responding, "I guess you don't, but I need you to understand that I'm not a malicious person. I have no reason to lie to you. I can prove who you are, were, are . . ." He struggled to cope with this new information, as it dredged up all kinds of emotions he had attempted to bury. He reached to touch her, but dropped his hand back down and tucked it in his pocket. It was too soon for that, though touching her, kissing her, loving her was all he wanted to do.
She moved the conversation along by asking, "Ben, what is my last name?"
They started strolling again, each of them keeping a safe and yet close proximity to each other. "Stevens."
"Grace Stevens?"
"Grace Elizabeth Stevens." He wanted to say Edwards. Edwards had a rightful place tacked on to the end of that name, but it was never made official, and he didn't want to overwhelm her, or worse, scare her.
"That's a pretty name," she said, seeming to like her real moniker.
She made him smile. "It's a very pretty name."
"You said you have proof?"
"Yes, I brought pictures with me. They're on my phone." Ben dug his phone out of his pocket and flipped through the gallery until he found one of just her from the night they celebrated her promotion.
He turned the phone screen, shielding it from the sun so she could see the picture clearly. She gasped and threw her hand over her mouth as she obviously recognized herself in the photo. Taking a step away from the phone, tears filled her eyes. She took a deep breath, and then pointed in disbelief. "Th-th-that's me."
Her face was hidden as she covered it with her hands, and started to cry. He didn't stop the tears that had been threatening his own eyes for the last five minutes, so as they hit the pavement, he went to her. He couldn't stand seeing her cry and not comfort or hold her. His heart hurt when her heart hurt. It always had. His sweet Grace. This must be such a huge shock for her. Both to wake up daily not knowing any of your history, and then finding someone who knew the real you. He couldn't take her pain or her tears. He gave in and did what felt natural, pulling her into his arms while murmuring, "It's okay. It's okay. Shhhh. I'm here. I'm here now, Grace."
He felt her cringe as he said her name. That was just another shot to the heart, but he knew it was only because she wasn't used to it, but when he said, "Grace," again, the name became a trigger, her arms breaking her free from the confines of his. "Don't call me that. My name is Jane." Looking frantically around without a clear destination in mind, she ran.
"Grace. I mean, Jane. Please! Stop!" Running after her, he easily caught up. "Please, don't leave me," he begged as tears trailed down his face. "I can't bear it if you leave again."
Grace stopped, her sobs breaking through, wracking her body. He wanted to hold her again, to take away any pain. It had felt heavenly to have her in his arms, but he knew she would run again, so he summoned every ounce of strength to not touch her.
She turned and looked back at him. "You know me. The real me. But who are you?"
"I'm Ben Edwards." He left off the additional information like, he was the love of her life, the man who had searched tirelessly for her for more than three years, and the man desperate to spend the rest of his life loving a woman he didn't think he'd ever get to hold again, much less talk to. He wanted to kiss her tears away like he'd always done, but he restrained himself. It pained him to resist holding her, but he knew she wasn't ready.