A Part of My Memory

Zara

After dinner, Elliot and I did the washing up.

We were halfway to finishing when Jess arrived, and I still wasn't used to her richness because my jaw dropped at the sight of the golden tiara that rested on her head, matching perfectly with the golden silk dress that fit her perfectly. It had a slit on one leg that revealed high golden strap heels and most of her thigh.

"Hey Jess," Elliot greeted casually as if she wasn't dressed like some long-lost princess. But then again, maybe he was used to seeing her dressed like that. "Where are you coming from?"

"Company ball," she said, placing her purse on the table and taking a seat. She removed her high heels and started massaging her feet. "My ankles are killing me."

She had said that statement loud enough that picking up what she wanted wasn't hard. I nudged Elliot in the ribs.

"Ow," he looked at me, brows furrowed. "What was that for?"

"Go massage her, her ankles hurt."

Elliot turned around to look at Jess then faced me again, "I hate touching feet."

"Seriously?" I questioned. "She's your fiancé, you'll be touching a lot more once you're married."

He sucked in a breath and shot me a look.

"What? I'm not wrong, am I? I mean, everyone knows that—"

He planted his soapy, wet palm against my mouth. "Stop talking. Just please stop talking." He dropped his hand and groaned, leaning against the sink. "I really wish I could unhear that."

I chuckled at that, "well you can't." I said, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. "Now go help your fiancé out, I'll finish off."

"No, I can—"

"Do you want me to keep talking?"

Despite himself, Elliot grinned, "fine, you win."

He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands before going to Jess. Kneeling and placing her foot on his knee, he began massaging her ankle. Jess leaned her head back against the chair and hummed in satisfaction.

"That feels good," she said then leaned forward and held Elliot's face in her hands. "Thank you."

Elliot smiled at her but then glanced behind her and at me. It was only when his eyes met mine that I realised I had been staring at them. Elliot's brows furrowed, noticing something on my expression. What he noticed, I didn't know. Why I wanted to look away but couldn't, I didn't know. I felt an odd bitter feeling in the pits of my stomach and felt a sudden urge to leave the room rather than watch them kiss. And why? I didn't know.

A hot sensation rushed around my finger, a sensation that turned into a sharp sting and I flinched, yanking my hand from the water and gripping my forefinger. There was a cut and within seconds blood flowed from the opening. It wasn't a surface cut, it was deep enough that I had to clench my jaw against the pain.

Someone suddenly took my hand and I looked up to see Elliot analysing my cut. He immediately placed my hand under the tap and turned on the water.

I groaned, "I could have done that on my own."

Elliot's eyes met mine, "how could you be so clumsy?" He focused his attention on my finger again, "do you not focus on what you're doing when you're washing?"

"I do. Usually," I added. I had been too busy focusing on him to watch what I was picking up and washing.

He looked at me again, "you okay?"

"I'm fine."

He turned off the tap but didn't let go of my hand. Instead, he held onto my wrist and led me out of the kitchen.

"Elliot," Jess called from behind us.

"I'll be back," he said without so much as looking back at her.

He led me up the stairs and all the way to the bathroom. He placed my finger under the tap again to wash away the new blood while he took out a clean cloth and a box of band-aids. Jess had been inches away from kissing him, but rather than meeting her in the middle, he had rushed to my aid. It wasn't even a serious cut, and yet here he was.

After carefully wiping my finger, he wrapped a band-aid around it. His hands were unexpectedly gentle and soft and electric.

"There," he said, his eyes locking on mine once he was done. "Better?"

I could only swallow, suddenly conscious of how close he was to me. My back was against the edge of the bathroom vanity and he was in front of me, leaning against the vanity with his arms on either side of me, caging me in. If I so much as leaned forward, our bodies would touch.

My next breath came out with a shudder at that realisation, and a charged pulse surged through my being, but I didn't move. Despite all the confusing sensations running through me, I didn't move. I only stayed still, staring into Elliot's brown eyes. And he stared right back.

I felt my body gravitating towards his but I stopped myself, clenching my fists and my jaw. He stepped back then and let out a breath, and something about the way he looked at me before leaving made me shudder.

I hadn't realised how tense I was until he left and I let out a breath. I turned around, my hands clenched on the cold surface of the marble vanity as I looked at myself in the mirror. I noticed my pulse beating through my neck and my breath caught as the realisation of what just happened hit me.

Elliot had just made me feel things.

My mouth dropped open and I held my head.

Elliot was engaged and he was my cousin, so what the heck was I just feeling?

"There's no way," I breathed. I could not think of my cousin as anything but my cousin. Sure, he was attractive and all but he was my freaking cousin. "There's no way."

"There's no way what?" Harley suddenly asked by the door, startling me. She entered the bathroom and looked me dead in the eyes. "Tell me."

"It's nothing," I told her.

Harley smiled, "liar."

"I'm not lying about anything."

"Once you regain your memory," Harley began telling me, "it'll all make sense."

"What will all make sense?"

"All of it," she said then began leaving but paused by the door and faced me once more. "Just... promise me you won't leave?"

She didn't wait for my response before skipping out of the room.

Now I was really confused.