Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

Remember Me... •|| MARJOREECE ||•

Prompt: Marjorie gets in an accident and has amnesia.
[AU]

Reece sat beside Marjorie, his eyes fixed on the way her fingers gently traced the edges of the soft hospital blanket. She hadn’t said much since waking up, her mind clouded with the confusion that still hung around her like a heavy fog. His heart ached each time she looked at him with uncertainty, like he was a stranger in her world.

It was the quiet moments that hurt the most, when she didn’t speak and the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words. He could feel the distance between them, a gap that had always been filled with laughter, with teasing, with the intimate, comforting closeness that had grown between them over the years. Now, all of that felt like a distant memory he couldn’t reach, and it left him feeling powerless.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Marjorie muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t meet his eyes, her focus still on the blanket. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t know us.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. He had known this would be hard—he’d known it since she first woke up and didn’t remember him—but hearing it, hearing her say it so plainly, made the pain surge to the surface.

“I’m Reece,” he said softly, as though repeating his name might make her see him again. “You’re Marjorie. We’ve been together for a long time.”

She looked up then, her hazel eyes full of doubt, uncertainty written all over her face. “Together? But…” She trailed off, as though trying to connect the pieces in her mind, but there was nothing to grasp, no recollection that sparked in her eyes.

Reece clenched his fists, the desperation flooding him like a tidal wave. He knew it wasn’t her fault. She couldn’t control this. But the longing, the ache to hold her the way they used to, to feel her soft lips against his, to hear her teasing him with that cocky smile of hers—it was unbearable.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice hoarse, struggling to keep the emotion from breaking through. “I’m here, and I’ll stay here until you remember. Until you remember us.”

Marjorie’s brow furrowed, and she reached out for his hand, but her touch was tentative, almost as if she were afraid of breaking something delicate. “What if I don’t?” she asked, her voice small, almost fragile.

Reece’s chest tightened. He didn’t know how to answer that, how to face the possibility that she might never remember their love. That she might never remember him the way she used to. He swallowed hard, forcing his voice to steady.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Every day. I’ll remind you how we used to stay up late talking about everything and nothing. I’ll remind you of the way we used to laugh at stupid jokes, of the way you used to—”

He cut himself off, his throat constricting. The weight of his emotions pressed against him, threatening to swallow him whole.

“You used to kiss me in the middle of the night,” he added quietly, his eyes locked onto hers. “You’d wake me up just to kiss me. Because you said we needed to make the most of every moment.”

A soft, breathless chuckle escaped her lips, and Reece’s heart skipped. There was a flicker in her eyes, something almost familiar. She didn’t remember, not completely, but the barest glimmer of recognition flashed across her face.

“I used to do that?” she asked softly, her voice full of wonder.

Reece nodded, his voice a bit rougher now. “Yeah. You did.”

“I wish I could remember…” she whispered, her gaze flickering to his lips. For a brief, painful moment, she looked like she wanted to lean in, to feel the connection they had shared for so long, but the uncertainty kept her rooted in place.

Reece reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face with trembling fingers. He didn’t care if it was messy. He didn’t care if it hurt. He needed her to feel this. To feel him.

He leaned forward slowly, never breaking eye contact, and when he kissed her—softly, gently, as though testing the waters—she didn’t pull away.

It wasn’t the fiery kiss they used to share. It wasn’t the urgent, passionate connection that had once defined them. But it was something. And in that moment, something in Marjorie’s eyes softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t look at him with confusion. She looked at him like he was hers again. Like he was someone worth remembering.

Reece pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his breath shaky. “I’ll keep kissing you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. “Until you remember. And then I’ll kiss you every day for the rest of our lives.”

Marjorie closed her eyes, her lips trembling into the smallest smile. “I want to remember,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I want to remember us.”

Reece held her close, feeling that familiar warmth rush back to his chest. Even if it took time, even if it took all the patience in the world, he would help her find her way back. Because their love—their love—was worth fighting for.