A Life I Can’t Recall

Chapter 4: Thorne's POV

The room felt smaller somehow after Garrett's words. The weight of them settled in my chest like an anchor, pulling me down. Mafia. Lovers. My mind struggled to make sense of it. How could I have been involved in something so dangerous and foreign? And yet, the more Garrett spoke, the more the strange sense of familiarity crept into my bones.

I know this is a lot to take in," Garrett said, his voice low, even, as though attempting to break through the fog in my mind. "But let me explain everything."

I looked at him, still reeling from a whirlwind of emotions with none making sense. A piece of me felt betrayed, as if everything I thought I knew had been ripped away. But then there was this other part, smaller, wanting to believe him. The way he spoke with me, the way he took care of me, it felt… real. My head spun, though. The truth just didn't fit into the small pieces of my memory I could cling to.

Garrett seemed to sense my struggle. He leaned forward, his gaze intense but gentle. “I’m part of the Karlen family,” he began, as though the words alone were meant to explain everything. “One of the oldest mafia families in New York.”

I couldn't help but snort at the irony: Mafia? Me? Hard to picture me being in that world. But Garrett didn't bat an eye, never once budged. His eyes held mine unwaveringly as he spoke of this fact with such certainty.

"You worked for me," he continued, his voice softening almost as if he were calling to mind a memory. "You were my assistant. We became close. We—" He paused a beat, just for a second, as if weighing the words on his tongue. "We fell in love, Thorne. You and I."

The words hit me harder than I expected. Lovers? I couldn’t even remember my own name, much less the relationship he claimed we had. A surge of panic shot through me, but I forced myself to breathe, to steady my thoughts. I had no choice but to listen.

"I don't remember," I muttered, more to myself than to him. My voice felt foreign, shaky-even to me, like I didn't even recognize it.

Garrett's face softened, and a look of sympathy crossed his features. He reached out, resting a hand lightly on mine. I tensed at the contact but didn't pull away. "I know," he said quietly. "It's not easy. But the injuries you have… they're from retaliation. Business rivals, Thorne. They targeted you because of me. Because of us.

He spoke with such a calm intensity that it sent a chill through me. I wanted to ask more—about the business, about the enemies, about everything—but I couldn’t find the words. My head was throbbing, the pain never quite leaving.

Garrett must have sensed my unease. He leaned back slightly and pulled out his phone. After a few moments, he turned the screen toward me. A series of photos appeared-pictures of a man I didn't recognize at first, and then my eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was a picture of Garrett and me.

We were standing on a beach, laughing, faces lit with smiles I didn't remember wearing. I blinked, trying to make sense of it. The man in the photo was me. But it felt like a stranger. My heart skipped in my chest as I stared at the image.

There are more," Garrett said softly, tapping through the images. "Photos of us together. Our time together. I know it's a lot to process, but it's the truth, Thorne." He tapped another photo, this one of us sitting together on a sofa. His arm was around my shoulders, and my own hand rested on his knee.

I swallowed hard. "I… don't know.

Garrett's fingers hovered over the phone, but his gaze never left me. "I know it's hard. I know you're confused. But I'll be here for you. Every step of the way. And once you're better, once you're recovered, I'll take you back home. To where we live.

His words were steady, sincere, but I still felt the pull of doubt. Everything in me screamed that something was off, that I wasn't supposed to be here. But… he was the only one who'd been here for me since I woke up, the only person I could remember who hadn't left me.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I don't remember any of this," I whispered, more to myself than him.

Garrett leaned in a little, softening, and for the first time since I'd woken up, I saw in his gaze something like sorrow. "I know, but I am not going anywhere, Thorne. You are not alone. If you can't remember we'll make new memories. Still, I will be there.

His hand was still on mine, warm and firm, as if he was offering something steady in a world that had flipped on its head. I didn't know what to think, what to believe, but the way he looked at me, the way he cared-it was enough to push the doubt aside, just for a moment.

I nodded, my throat tight. "Okay," I said softly, still unsure, but willing to trust him. "I'll… trust you."

Garrett smiled, his expression softening. "Good. You'll be okay, Thorne. I'll stay with you until you're discharged. You're not alone.

His words wrapped around me like a security blanket, and despite the storm of confusion in my mind, a small part of me believed him. Maybe I didn't remember. Maybe I didn't know who I was or who we were, but for now, Garrett was the only person I had.

And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to believe in something-believe in him.