The entire drive home he pointed out stores and roads, hoping for something to spark her memory. Nothing did. He still had hope as he pulled up to the house and parked the car. Maybe the house would.

Brenna’s eyes were wide as he helped her out of the car and she surveyed the exterior of the house. She cleared her throat.

“This is really big,” she said softly. “How much was the house?”

“Uh…eight million.”

Her eyes got a bit bigger. “Wow.”

“It doesn’t seem so big from the inside,” he said as he led her into the house through the garage. He watched her reaction as they entered the house, hoping to see some recognition. All he saw was an expression of wonder as she slowly took off her shoes. “Okay, well I’ll give you the tour,” he said when she didn’t speak.

It took about fifteen minutes to show her the lower level and main level of the house. When he took her upstairs, he saved their bedroom for last, figuring that if anything about the house would spark her memory, it would be that. His heart fell a bit when it didn’t. She merely stood just inside the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself.

“So, uh, yeah. This is our bedroom,” he finally said. “The bathroom’s over there and the closet’s over there.”

Brenna moved toward the closet and he followed.

“This is huge,” she murmured. “There’s so many clothes.”

“A lot of them are mine,” he said sheepishly, a little embarrassed. “I blame Kate. She’s always buying me new stuff and I don’t like getting rid of the old stuff. Through that door in the back is a little room with shoes. You probably don’t want to look in there. I tend to be a little, um, extravagant with shoes.”

She slowly nodded. She turned around to leave the closet and bumped right into his chest. He grabbed her upper arms to steady her and she quickly stepped back.

“Sorry.”

He smiled. “It’s okay,” he said, letting his hands drop. His smile was a little forced though. Normally if something like that happened, she would give him a playful punch and say something along the lines of “Move out of my way, punk.”

Stepping out of her way, he watched her walk to the bathroom and look inside.

“Um, Trace and Kate were going to come over at like five thirty. Did you want to have a sleep or anything before they get here?”

She nodded. “I guess.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you when they get here.”

“Okay.”

He gave her a smile and then left the room, shutting the door behind him. Going downstairs he went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. He had really been hoping she would remember things once they got to the house but apparently it was going to take time.

The house was completely silent as he sat there and tried to read the newspaper. After half an hour he was still on the front page and he welcomed the interruption when he heard the doorbell ring. He got up and went to answer it.

“Weren’t sure if we could just come in or not,” Trace said as he and Kate came into the house.

“She’s upstairs sleeping,” Justin said in reply.

“Any memories come back?” Kate asked.

Justin sighed. “No, not yet. Hopefully it’s just gonna take some time. And maybe when her mom or my mom get here that’ll help.”

“When are they coming?”

“Elizabeth’s coming on Thursday and staying for a week and my mom’s coming a couple days after that.” He started to walk back to the kitchen and his friends followed him. “What’re you making to eat, Kate?”

“I was thinking chicken parmesan.”

“Good. I like that.”

“Don’t expect me to make it as good as Bren,” Kate said, going into the pantry.

“Justin, she didn’t forget how to cook, did she?” Trace asked. “Because that would really suck.”

Justin smiled. “I really hope not. I don’t want to have to go back to living off take out again.”

“I doubt she’s forgotten how to cook, guys,” Kate said, opening a can of tomato sauce. “And you know, it wouldn’t hurt you to learn how to cook, Justin. It shouldn’t just be us girls who know how to cook.”

He smirked. “Oh, because you know how to cook?”

She placed a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Not a very nice thing to say to someone who’s making your ass dinner. If you don’t like my cooking, pick up the phone and order a pizza.”

He laughed. “Oh calm down. I’m just joking. We all love your cooking, Kate.”

Trace snorted in laughter and Kate turned her narrowed eyes on him.

“Yes, Trace?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he said. “Just something in my throat.”

“I’m really not sure why I put up with you. You’re going to be sorry when my chicken parmesan is amazing.”

“Yes, we will be. We’re just waiting for you to prove us wrong, Kate.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well I will.”

Justin stayed in the kitchen with Trace and Kate as she cooked, enjoying the company of his friends. It was nice to be able to joke around and laugh. A few minutes before Kate was going to pull the chicken from the oven, Justin decided to go upstairs and get Brenna. He had planned to get her before but figured she’d want to sleep.

Brenna was still in bed when he eased open the door and went into the room. He winced a bit when he saw the dried tear stains on her cheeks. Other than that though, she looked peaceful. So peaceful that he was tempted to just let her continue sleeping. He figured she would be hungry though and would want to eat.

Sitting on the edge of the bed by her, he rubbed her shoulder. “Brenna.”

She moved a bit and sighed. He said her name again and she slowly opened her eyes.

“Supper’s almost ready and Trace and Kate are here. Do you want to come downstairs?”

She slowly nodded. “Okay.”

He stood up and waited for her to get out of bed. She went to the bathroom to wash her face and then appeared again. He could tell she was a little nervous as they walked down the stairs.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, touching her shoulder gently. “They’re both cool.”

She nodded slightly and hung back behind him slightly as he stepped into the kitchen. Trace and Kate both looked up and he subtly pulled Brenna forward with a hand on her back.

“Hey, Brenna,” Trace said with a smile. Kate echoed him.

Brenna gave a tiny smile. “Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” Kate asked.

“I’m okay.”

There was a minute of silence and Justin quickly spoke up. “Is the chicken almost ready, Kate?” he asked.

She opened the oven. “Yeah, it is. Bren, you would not believe how much grief these two guys have given me about my cooking.”

Brenna glanced over at Justin. “Why?”

“Because she can’t cook,” Justin answered. “We’re all just hoping for something edible tonight.”

“Like your cooking would be any better,” Kate scoffed, pulling the dish from the oven. “You’re going to be eating your words in a few minutes.”

“Which might be the only thing I have to eat if your cooking is as bad as last time.”

“No worries, man. I made salad,” Trace spoke up. “We can have that if all else fails.”

Justin laughed and caught the oven mitt Kate threw at him. “We’re just joking, Kate.”

“Uh huh. Whatever.”

He smiled and went over to sit at the table as the food was placed on it. He looked up at Brenna who hadn’t moved. “Are you coming, Bren?”

She silently came over to the table and sat down in an empty chair. Just by looking at her he could see she was uncomfortable. He gave her a reassuring smile, convinced it was just going to take some time. Besides, she had just woken up and was probably still tired. It had been a long day.

The meal went on for a while and it felt good to be at home again with his wife and friends. It was a little different because Brenna was so quiet. He tried to include her in the conversation as much as he could, as did Trace and Kate. It was obvious that it was a little much for her though.

It was close to nine when Brenna quietly excused herself, saying she was tired. Kate and Trace both helped Justin clean up the kitchen and then he walked them to the front door.

“Justin, maybe this isn’t any of my business, but…” Kate trailed off and fiddled with the strap of her purse.”

“What?” he asked.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?”

He gave her a weird look. “In my bed?”

“Is Bren sleeping there too?”

“Yeah. Why, do you think I shouldn’t sleep there?”

“Just…just be careful, Justin. If you do, just remember that she doesn’t remember you.” A pain went through his heart at her words. It was so hard to know that his own wife didn’t have any memory of him. “Her doctor said to keep everything as normal as possible.”

“You should do what he tells you but be careful, okay?”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.” He watched as Trace opened the door. “Thanks for coming over.”

“It was fun,” Trace said. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Are you gonna be at home?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll call you here.”

Justin nodded and said goodbye to his friends, shutting the door behind them. The day have been long for him and he was tired enough to want to go to bed. He went through the main level of the house, shutting off the lights, and then he walked upstairs. The second level of the house was dark and he walked to his bedroom slowly. The door was half shut and he eased it open and stepped into the dark room. He went to the bathroom and changed into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shit. When he entered the silent room again, he stood still for a moment. He heard a sniff that he knew was coming from Brenna crying. He walked over to the side of the bed where she was and knelt down on the floor. Brenna opened her eyes and he found them wet.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She slowly nodded although it was obvious she wasn’t okay. He reached out his hand and brushed some of her hair away from her face. “I promise you it’s going to get better, Bren. You’re going to remember everything.” He bit his lip as he watched her.

She wet her lips. “What if I don’t?” she whispered.

He was silent for a minute. “You will. Maybe it’s just going to take some time but you’ll remember. I know you will.” He watched as a couple tears fell. “Bren, is it okay if I sleep in here tonight? I don’t have to if you don’t want me to. I can sleep in a spare room if you want.”

“I don’t care,” she said softly, closing her eyes.

“Okay.” He stood up, deciding he would sleep in their bed. Brenna was laying on his side of the bed but he wasn’t about to make her move so he went over to the side where she always used to sleep and got in. He could still hear Brenna quietly sniffing and he wanted nothing more than to hold her close and make her feel better, but he knew to keep his distance. Although she was his wife and best friend, he was merely a stranger to her and he would make her uncomfortable if he spooned up behind her like he usually did. So instead he clutched his pillow tight, the smell of Brenna on it, and laid there silently, waiting to hear her steady breathing before allowing himself to drift off the sleep.