Sugar & Spice

Chapter 35

Quinn was finally coming home. It was probably a little premature, but by the start of the third week, he had already signed himself out and called Pete to pick him up before Crissy could stop him.

"Shouldn't he be taking it easy?" Pete said as he opened the door to his Suburban.

"I tried telling him that," Crissy said.

"I'm right here," Quinn protested. "I can hear you talking about me."

His movements were agonizingly slow and the muscle in his jaw was constantly clenched tight, but he never said a word about the pain. She knew he had to be feeling it, judging by the way his hand was clamped around hers with a vise-like grip. He kept his bandaged arm tucked in against his side as he eased himself into the backseat of Pete's car. By the time Crissy slid in after him, she could feel slight tremors in his hands from the effort movement was costing him.

"Are you...?" she started to ask but Quinn cast a warning look at her.

"It hasn't been five minutes since the last time you asked, sweetheart," he said. "I was fine then. I'm still fine now."

"Remember what I told you? I have to nag you constantly until I drive you insane."

"Crissy, sweetheart, I don't think you even know how to nag."

"I must be doing something right because that was a distinct test of your patience I just saw flash across your face."

He laughed and shook his head. "God, nothing gets by you."

"Nope. Now, are you okay?"

"Yes," he said with a begrudging sigh. "I'm okay. And I'll let you know if that changes any time in the future."

"No you won't. You'll tough it out in silence like you're doing now."

Pete stifled a snicker as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"You sure you're ready to get married to that razor sharp little cupcake there, Q?" he said.

Crissy turned to Quinn, eyebrows raised with a teasing look. A flicker of confusion darted across his eyes and Crissy's stomach flipped. He was searching, spinning through his memories right there in front of her.

He didn't remember, Crissy realized with a jolt. He didn't remember proposing to her. She had been braced for the warning signs of memory loss for days, even weeks now, so how had she missed this?

Pete glanced at Quinn in the rear view mirror.

"Getting cold feet, buddy?" he said.

Quinn blinked, once, twice, before he shook himself and the confusion was tamped down.

"No," he said. "Not even a little."

Crissy took in a tiny breath of air at that. He might not remember but he still cared about her. That was the important part.

Quinn turned his head to the side, away from Crissy's searching gaze for a few minutes and she knew the confusion was still there, lingering. She pulled his hand into her lap, curling her other hand over his forearm and rested her head on his shoulder. He relaxed slightly but she could feel a sliver of tension too, like the edge of a knife, silently sliding through his muscles, shredding him to pieces.

Crissy tried to put him at ease for the rest of the drive home, skirting around the issue as long as they were in Pete's presence. He wouldn't want to discuss it with an audience. And she knew he was probably beating himself up over forgetting, even though it wasn't his fault.