Page 135 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“Noah…”

I can hear the stuttered inhale he takes before letting it out slowly.

“Yes, Little Rabbit?”

CHAPTER 61

NOAH

TEN MINUTES PRIOR

“Hey. It’s Jeremy. Leave a message.”

Fuck!

“Dude, call me back. Please. I don’t know how this is going to go. We’re at her old house. She remembers everything…Except me. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Please stop doing whatever you’re doing and call me back.”

I hang up and rest my head back against the headrest. When I look up at the house, I can see a faint glow through the cracked windows as she moves through the upstairs. I need to get in there. I need to be there in case she remembers anything else.

In case she remembers me.

My head is still pounding, but I think it’s from stress right now as opposed to the concussion because honestly, I’m freaking out. All I’ve wanted was for her to remember who I am…and yet it could be about to happen and I’m frozen in fear.

I glance at the center console of my truck. I brought something just in case she does remember. Something that I hope will show her that I never gave up on her.

I never forgot about her.

I never stopped loving her.

I open the lid to the center console and press the button along the inside that opens the hidden compartment to pull it out before tucking it into my jacket. I need to get in there, goddammit.

As I make my way into the kitchen, I have to close my eyes as a wave of nausea hits me. My fingers grip onto the counter as I try to steady myself. The door slams shut behind me, and I groan.

“Fuck.”

“I’m upstairs,” she calls out.

My eyes open and land on the stain on the linoleum. A dark red stain with a small bloody handprint right next to it. Nothing in here is the same as it was that night except this fucking stain and that Goddamn handprint.

I glance down at my hand before clenching it into a fist and leaving the kitchen. As I quietly climb the stairs, I hear the faint sound of a music box beginning to play. She’s humming along to the tune as if the song has never left her memory.

I step inside her room and lean against the door frame to watch her. Her shoulders tense slightly before relaxing when she realizes I’m here. My hand clutches my pocket, and it’s the only thing keeping me grounded at this moment.

She’s kneeling in the corner flipping through old photos. Photos that I know will change everything the moment she sees them. My heart is racing, beating against my chest as I watch her flip further and further through the stack.

It's in there. I know it’s in there.

It’s the same photo I have hidden in my desk at work. The same one I shrunk down and still carry in my wallet.

Her eighth birthday. The day I gave her that little rabbit. Her mom gave me a copy when we were kids because even back then, I think she knew how much I cared for Willow.

I watch without breathing as she gets down to the last couple of photos, and I can see it there in her hands. The photo shows a bright blue present with a matching bow. The next is of her holding up that little white rabbit.

“I’m going to call him Mr. Snuggles.”

I can still hear the sound of her high-pitched voice as she hugged that little thing to her chest.

I watch her swipe her thumb over the photo before flipping to the last one in her hand.