Remembering Us

"I Get A Little Handsy"

I'm dead tired. It's been days since I've slept through the night and I know there are countless more to come.

Amelia went up a few hours ago which is a good thing, knowing she's asleep after an exhausting day lessens the urge to bother her.

Not wasting time for a shower I simply strip down to my boxer shorts and fall into the king sized bed.

Unfortunately, in the dark room, I didn't see the lump under the black duvet, I only felt it. And heard it.

"Ow!" Amelia squeaks.

"Fuck." I curse, jumping up and switching on the lamp next to the bed. "Amelia, what-"

"I thought this would be better." She rapidly spews out before noticing my pajamas, or lack thereof. Her eyes dart around landing anywhere but me, the bottom of her cheeks to the tips of her ears flush red, and she stumbles whatever words are coming next.

Not saying anything, I walk over to my clothes dresser and pull and pull out a white t-shirt and flannel pants. Amelia has found some lint on the bed to be quite entertaining as I slip the clothes on. I don't remember the last time I actually slept in clothes.

When I walk back to the bed Amelia glances up. Tension melts from her shoulders as she starts chuckling. "Cute."

I look at the dumbass penguin pattern on my pants and grin back up at Amelia. "I am aren't I?" With the ways she's looking at me, the spark in her eye, it seems that, just for a moment, my wife is back. "I mean, what's why you married."

My favorite sound rings through the room as she's laughs. "And here I thought it was because of all your money."

And just like that my wife is gone. She replaced by someone with the same yellow hair and blue eyes but they're an imposter. They slipped up on the one thing my wife never would.

Amelia may act like my mother's accusation didn't cut her deep, but I see through it. I see her muscles tense when people joke about marrying for money. I notice her meticulously avoid talking about finances. This woman is not my wife and the realization brings a fucking ache to my chest.

I smile softly at woman looking at me with concern. "You didn't want to stay in the guest room?" I ask her, no longer curious as a thought comes to mind. "Meghan?"

Amelia nods, smiling lightly. "She seems to think my memories will come back quickly if I stick to my normal way of life. To an extent." She adds thoughtfully.

"Are you sure you're comfortable with that?" I don't think I can survive the night next to her.

"Meghan spent an hour assuring me that you're a perfect gentleman." She says, playing with her hands. "Not that she needed to, the Cameron I know was always caring."

"Yeah, when I'm conscious about it." I mutter, slightly agitated.

"What?" Amelia frowns, not understanding my hesitation. What sane man would be upset that his wife want to be in his bed. "Do you want me to leave?"

Fuck no. But I also don't want to be next to you all night. I know I should just be honest but telling her I'm know for copping a feel in my sleep might not be the best idea.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when Amelia starts to stand.

"No!" I shout like an idiot and she looks at me. As she had moved the nightgown she had been wearing rode up well past mid-thigh. She hasn't noticed yet, but I have. Every muscle in my body tightens. "Um, I've just been told I get a little handsy in my sleep."