Adrian Hayes had built a company by refusing to accept incomplete information.

Unfortunately, his current investigation was suffering from two major problems: Noah refused to cooperate, and Elliot appeared to find every question hilarious.

"Tell me where Elliot's husband works," Adrian demanded.

Noah adjusted the hospital blinds. "No."

"You know him."

"Extremely well."

"Is he dangerous?"

"Mostly to himself."

"Is he taller than me?"

"Not by an inch."

"You are enjoying this."

"More than my last vacation."

Adrian had been told he would go home the following day if his symptoms continued improving. Until then, he had too much time and an unreliable memory.

He opened his phone. Face recognition still worked, which seemed unfair when his own brain did not.

His home screen showed a photograph of a beach at sunset. The wallpaper was beautiful, but the date printed across it made no sense to him.

Three years had passed since he last remembered standing on that beach.

His messages contained hundreds of threads. He avoided the most recent ones, afraid of finding another version of himself he wouldn't recognize.

Instead, he searched for Elliot Parker.

A contact appeared instantly: ELLIOT ❤️ HOME.

Adrian stared at the heart.

"Noah?"

"What?"

"Why do I have his number saved with a heart?"

Noah glanced at the screen. "Excellent question."

"Did I know him before the accident?"

"Yes."

"How well?"

"Better than anyone."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

Noah pulled up a chair. "Because the doctor wanted us to go slowly, and Elliot wanted to explain it himself. I think we've all taken the joke far enough."

Adrian narrowed his eyes. "What joke?"

Noah opened his mouth, but a nurse arrived to take Adrian for another assessment.

"Saved by the hospital," Noah muttered.

The examination took forty minutes. Adrian answered questions about dates, names, and recent events. He remembered the accident only as scattered light and sound.

The physician warned him not to force recollection. "Photos may help, but stop if they trigger headaches. And ask your family to be honest about what you're seeing."

Adrian returned to his room with a growing suspicion that everyone was hiding something.

Elliot was waiting by the window, talking to someone on the phone.

"Yes, I know the deadline," he said. "I'll finish the sketches tonight. No, don't reassign the project."

He ended the call and looked tired.

"Work?" Adrian asked.

"A publisher. I missed a meeting yesterday."

"Because of me?"

"Because somebody decided to introduce his car to a traffic barrier."

Adrian winced. "Fair."

Elliot sat beside him. "How was the assessment?"

"They say my memory is still scrambled. Apparently I'm also supposed to avoid stress."

"Then stop interrogating Noah."

"He's suspicious."

"He's always suspicious."

Elliot reached for his phone to show Adrian a photograph of the soup recipe he'd promised to send. The screen lit up before he unlocked it.

A picture filled the display: Elliot embracing a broad-shouldered man on a sunlit pier. The man's back faced the camera, but his hand rested securely at Elliot's waist.

Adrian's stomach tightened.

"Your husband?" he asked.

Elliot looked down. "Yes."

"He looks smug."

"You can't see his face."

"I can sense it."

Elliot laughed. Adrian hated how much he wanted to be responsible for that sound.

"Does he always hold you like that?" Adrian asked.

"Pretty much."

"Possessive, like you said."

"Very."

Adrian glanced at his own hand on the blanket. A platinum band circled his ring finger. He had noticed it on waking, but Noah had explained only that he was married.

Now Elliot reached for a tissue, and the light caught the ring on his hand.

Same pale metal. Same narrow groove around the center.

Adrian sat forward.

"Hold on."

"What?"

"Your ring."

Elliot looked at it.

"What about it?"

Adrian held up his own hand beside Elliot's. The rings matched perfectly, right down to a tiny bevel along the edge.

"Why does your husband have the same taste as me?"

Elliot pressed his lips together so hard his shoulders shook.

"Maybe you have something in common."

"I sincerely doubt it."

"You might be surprised."

Noah returned with discharge paperwork. He took one look at the two matching rings and stopped.

"Oh, we're doing this now?"

"Doing what?" Adrian snapped.

Noah looked at Elliot. "Tell him. Properly."

Elliot nodded. "You're right."

He sat on the edge of Adrian's bed. "Adrian, I've been teasing you. It started as a joke because you were flirting so confidently, but I should have explained sooner."

Adrian's stomach sank. "You're not married?"

"I am."

"Then what?"

"You and I—"

A sharp headache cut through Adrian's temple. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Elliot immediately stopped. "Hey. Don't push yourself."

Noah called the nurse, who checked Adrian and helped him settle back against the pillows. The pain eased after a few minutes, but everyone agreed to postpone the conversation until he felt steadier.

"No more detective work tonight," Elliot said.

"You sound like my boss."

"Worse."

Adrian watched him pack his bag. "Will you come tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Promise?"

Elliot smiled. "Promise."

Before leaving, Elliot paused at the doorway and turned back.

"Adrian, one more thing."

"Anything."

"Please don't make decisions about your marriage while you're still confused."

Adrian looked at the ring on his finger. "That's fair."

"And don't blame Noah for keeping quiet. I asked him to give me time."

"He could have told me you were important."

"He did. In his own annoying way."

Adrian considered that. Noah had called Elliot patient. He'd said they knew each other better than anyone. Adrian had been so busy treating those answers as clues that he'd ignored their meaning.

"I think I've been an idiot," Adrian admitted.

Elliot's smile was tender. "That's familiar, too."

After the door closed, Adrian watched the hallway until the nurse dimmed the lights.

He tried to remember Elliot's face from before the accident. Nothing came. But he could recall the precise moment Elliot laughed over the soup, and the way his voice changed when he mentioned work.

That was something, wasn't it?

He wondered whether love could begin without memory, and whether he was allowed to trust a feeling that had arrived so suddenly.

After Elliot left, Adrian couldn't sleep. Noah had gone home to shower, and the room was quiet except for the monitor.

He knew he should leave his phone alone. Instead, he opened the photo library and scrolled through unfamiliar years.

There were birthday cakes, snow-covered streets, holiday dinners, and dozens of pictures of Elliot.

Elliot laughing over pancakes. Elliot asleep beside a dog. Elliot holding a framed illustration and looking proud.

Adrian's chest tightened. Why did his phone contain so much of this man?

The album title made his pulse quicken. He knew what the words suggested, but he wanted one more second before the answer became unavoidable.

He remembered telling Noah that Elliot's husband sounded terrible. He remembered promising to make Elliot forget that man.

For the first time, those conversations seemed less like romantic bravery and more like an elaborate practical joke staged at his expense.

He scrolled with a strange combination of dread and hope. If the truth was what he suspected, then the man he wanted most had been his all along.

He opened an album labeled OUR DAY.

A wedding venue appeared. White flowers lined an aisle. Guests smiled beneath strings of lights.

Then Adrian found a photograph that stopped his breathing.

He stood in a dark suit, one hand cupping Elliot's face. Elliot wore a cream suit and had his arms around Adrian's shoulders.

Their wedding bands gleamed as they kissed.

Adrian stared at the image, unable to look away.