This was it.

My secrets were out and I couldn't reverse back time and take it all back even if I tried.

I met Elijah's eyes, searching for a sign that he was about to hightail it out of my apartment and never look back. I half expected him to, and wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, it wasn't every day that someone sat someone down and dropped a ball as significant as the one I had chucked at him.

In fact, I believed that he should have already been booking it for the door, graciously handing me back my mug, as he explained all the reasons why he didn't have time to deal with someone like me.

Yet he didn't move.

Elijah remained quiet, his eyes searching mine and his unreadable. The regret came over me instantly, panic brewing underneath my skin. I glanced at my hands, trying to keep the sting that was licking at the back of my eyelids from voicing itself in my expression.

Great job, Rowan. Now he thinks you're a nut case.

I was just about to open my mouth to tell him, to forget everything I had just said, when he shifted, his feet pointed towards me. He pressed on the couch with his hands, and a wave of anxiety rose through me.

That's it he was leaving. I had royally screwed...

He leaned back.

I paused.

"I am not familiar with..." Elijah made a circular motion, gesturing in the air.

"Anterograde Amnesia," I cut in, figuring that he had been trying to pronounce it correctly. "I know it's hard to say," I said with a nervous laugh. I eyed him, reading his body language.

Yep.

There was no rope holding him down, and no one was secretly holding him at gunpoint.

He was staying seated all on his own.

I watched him nod. "Right so, being an anterograde amnesiac, what exactly does that mean for you?" He placed his hands in between his legs, as he leaned his elbows on his knees, and watched me attentively. "I know that amnesia must mean that you have forgotten something, but I have a feeling that it was more than that."

He sat up, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, not breaking eye contact.

Okay. So he wasn't leaving.

"What it means is that I cannot create new memories as everybody else can," I started, my eyes darting to his and making sure that he really wasn't about to sprint out of my place. I continued when he didn't, still a little surprised. "My situation is different from other cases, in that during the day, I can make short-term memories. But when I go to sleep, something happens, and bits and pieces of my day are lost to me. I still am left with an idea of how the previous day played out, but there are holes where there should be none."

I paused, letting everything that I had just dumped on him sink in. I looked down, as I wrung my hands together, wondering if I was doing the right thing by telling him so soon.

But I had gotten that far. There was no turning back now.

"I am sorry that I am just now telling you, but I was scared that it would get in the way of..." I trailed off, motioning between us with my hand, as I suddenly didn't want to use the word 'relationship'. I mean there was no relationship anyway.

I sighed.

"I don't know, I just wasn't ready to tell you."

"Is that the real reason why you were so scared out that morning after I stayed over."

I nodded my head, string t the ground. "I hadn't been drunk. I don't even drink often." I looked up, momentarily pausing at the strength with which he had focused his attention on me. "I just hadn't wanted to tell you yet. I shrugged. "I guess it's a stupid reason but I didn't want you to see me differently."

I didn't add the other reason for why I had wanted to tell him. Even though I was opening up about this, that was a whole different conversation that I wasn't sure I was brave enough to have.

"I don't think it is a stupid reason. But it does explain why you didn't remember meeting me." The small smile he sent my way let me know that his words were not full of contentment but just realization. Understanding. "I ws starting to worry that our first interaction had just been bad enough for you to expel me from your mind."

"Yea, that was my bad," I muttered, relaxing a bit.

Joking around was good right?

It meant that I hadn't totally messed up.

"So, if you didn't remember me before, how are you able to now?" He asked slowly, shifting on the couch. Our knees knocked together, and I didn't realize he had done it on purpose until he did it again. "I can't tell if you are nervous or uncomfortable with telling me this, but we can stop if you want," he said when I glanced up.

I assessed myself, realizing that I did seem a little closed off and hesitant. From the outside, it would seem like I wasn't comfortable with telling him when really it was just all foreign to me.

But the last thing he was making me feel was uneasy.

"I am definitely not uncomfortable. It is all just different." And it was. I hadn't had a seated conversation like this with anyone in a while. "But I want to tell you," I added.

Elijah nodded, and I took a breath.

Here was the tricky part.

"I have a notebook I write everything down in. I write the important events that happened down in it, each day before I go to bed. Then in the morning, I re-read through it to give some normalcy to my life." I ran a hand through my hair, bittersweet resentment for my situation surging forth. "It isn't the easiest thing all the time, but I am surviving. But..." I paused. I didn't know why it was so hard to get out everything I needed to say."But with you it is different."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, with you it's different. While my ability to create new memories is severely impaired, over time, I have been able to retain the memories of certain people that are constants in my life." I brushed my hair out of my face and debated on whether I should continue to go on. Heck, it sounded crazy when I said it.

I sucked in a breath when he reached his hand out and placed it on my knee, stilling my erratic movements.

"Rowan, you know that whatever you will say will not scare me off, right?" He asked, not breaking eye contact. "Whatever you have to say will not change the way I look at you. It will only fill in the holes that were previously blocking my view."

I didn't say anything at first, my body's awareness of the movment of his thumb on my knee causing my thoughts to jumble. It was calming at the same time that it was electrifying.

"Okay?" He asked. "I promise that I am not going to freak out on you."

I nodded my head, his eyes never leaving mine. "Okay," I whispered, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.

I believed him. I had no other reason not to. Appreciation rose from deep within me as I took a breath.

"So...," I inhaled, "like I'd been saying, there are some memories that I have been able to create. But, in the past, that has only happened with people and moments that are frequent and constants in my life." I sat up straighter. " I thought that this would always be the case. Until you."

He said nothing as he waited for me to go on.

"At first, I only remembered you because of what I had written down about you. However, a week after we met, I realized that I knew who you were, without needing to read anything."

"I guess this explains why you didn't remember me that day..." he whispered, almost as if to himself. "And why the morning after the party happened the way it did." His eyes flickered to me, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I hadn't been drinking that night," I mumbled, remembering what I had told him to play off my fear.

"I know that now, sweetheart."

I met his eyes, able to tell that he was still trying to process everything, but unable to get a good read on him. It was like a wall had gone up. The fact that he was hiding his reaction crashed down on me like a bucket of ice. Maybe I should have waited for the part. I took a breath as his eyes scanned mine, his lack of response laying thick in the air.

"I'm sorry. I know this is a lot, and you didn't ask for me to dump my problems on you."

He shook his head, in slight bewilderment.

"Wait," he chuckled, despite the fact that his eyebrows were furrowed. "I meant what I said before. I'm not going anywhere. I am just trying to process everything."

He wasn't leaving me.

Some of my nerves eased, but only some. He was a nice guy. He could have just been saying that to make me feel better. If so it was working, but I didn't want him to pretend with me.

"Are you sure?"

Elijah frowned. "Of course, I'm sure, Love. It means a lot that you are telling me."

I scanned his eyes, leaning back when I saw nothing but the truth in his eyes.

"So, do you remember Skylar and Hayden too?" He asked after a moment of silence had passed.

"Yes, but I have known them for years. I wasn't able to make memories of them until three months had passed with Skyler, and six with Hayden," I said.

He leaned back on the couch, running a hand over his face.

"Wow."

"Yea, I know," I said, relaxing. "You probably think that I am a walking basket case." I laughed nervously.

"Hey," he whispered, as he reached over and touched my hand. "I was not thinking that in the slightest."

"It just can be a huge complication when it comes to trying to maintain relationships," I said quietly.

"I get that, but you will never be a complication in my life. You are still you. At first, I thought I saw you, but now I am sure I do."

I looked away, trying to squash down the overwhelming urge to cry that arose at his words. I wasn't sure if I was happy that he hadn't run out of my apartment already, or shocked, but the obscurity in the emotions was something almost too big for me to handle.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to get it together when I felt the hand on my knee still to a stop.

"Did I say something wrong?"

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. "No, you didn't. I just expected..." I sighed not really knowing what I was going to say. "I guess I just expected for you to think that it was all too much. Not because I think that you are one to flake out but because it is a lot to handle." He sat up straighter. "And when things get hard to handle people tend to leave."

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes on me. I glanced back down at my hands, finding that when I did so, it was easier to talk.

"I'm still here aren't I?" The answer to the question meant more to me than he could even know. "Rowan, I want to get to know you, and not just part of you. Will you look at me?"

I finally did, and he sent me a warm smile. "I want to get to know all of you. Even the complicated parts. Okay?"

I swallowed, as I digested his words.

"Okay."

"So, what now?" Elijah asked after a few minutes. "If you were able to create a memory of me that fast, does that mean you are getting better?

"There is no sure way of knowing at this exact moment. But maybe it does mean that" I said. My eyebrows raised as I realized something. "However, my doctor said that the fact that I was able to, might be linked to my emotional state when I am around you."

"I always knew you got excited to see me."

A laugh escaped my lips and I shook my head. "If that makes you sleep better at night."

"It does."

I rolled my eyes with a small grin. "I guess I just mean that things have been a little intense," I said. "With the party among other things."

Elijah nodded, sobering from the humorous moment. "I get it. I can't exactly think straight when I am around you either," he said. "You are different from everyone else."

"I hope in a good way," I joked.

"There is only good when it comes to you."

I smiled, feeling as if I was on cloud nine. He had no idea what his words did to me.

"You aren't too bad yourself."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes like it usually did. His eyes flashed with the same look I had seen a week before, back at mom's place.

Guilt.

The weighted heaviness left his eyes just as quickly as it had landed, his fingers still drumming against my knee.

"So what was it your doctor told you?"

I nodded my head, trying to remember what it was I had been saying. It was hard to think straight when he was touching me like that.

"Right. She said that my ability to create a memory of you could have been linked to the emotions were behind the encounters we had. Like when we were on Hayden's patio, and when I saw you at the Cemetery."

He nodded his head.

"But maybe I am getting better," I added in.

"Is there by way of knowing for sure?"

I nodded, hope surging through me. "Potentially. I was supposed to do this experiment of sorts, but I haven't gotten around to it." I twisted a lock of hair between my fingers, knowing that I should have done what Dr. Anderson had asked me to do a long time ago. "I don't know if it is because I fear what I may discover, or if I am scared of not getting any answers. But every single time I try, I can't bring myself to do it."

"Well, what were you supposed to do?" I glanced towards my door as keys jingled from outside, probably one of my new neighbors just returning home.

I returned to the captivating ensnare of his gaze, with a breath. My reaction to thinking about the dream that had started it all was like it always was, my stomach dropping, and my plans going sweaty.

"The day that I remembered you, was also the same day that I had this dream."

Clearing my throat, I took a sip from my cup, grimacing as the lukewarm liquid hit my lips. But it did the job of relieving the scratch of my dry throat and allowing me to stifle the pain that just remembering what I had experienced, brought on.

"It was a dream about the crash that my family and I were in. The one I am not supposed to remember."

I saw the moment that my words hit, their depth resonating within him. Sadness filled his eyes, and it took me a moment to realize that it was for me.

"You think it was more than a dream."

He said it like more of a statement than a question.

I shrugged. "It is terrifying to think that it was." I pressed my eyes closed as the terrible sensation of terror brought threatened to take over. "Because what I saw was worse than anything I had ever imagined. I want to remember, but not if that is what happened."

It was a hypocritical thing to say, the supreme contradictory of all contradictories, but I didn't care. Elijah said nothing, but I knew that he understood. I could see it when he had talked about his own past.

I cleared my throat, breaking eye contact momentarily. "Anyway, What I am supposed to do, is use that time as a reference point, to somehow determine when it is that I lose my memory of the previous day," I said. "I usually don't remember my dreams. While we haven't figured out if it is linked to my memory loss, the fact that I remembered one like this could be used as a reference point for when the whole reset process starts."

A thoughtful expression crossed his features, and he leaned onto his knees. "Would you like to do it? because f you really want answers, I will do it with you."

Did I want him to do it with me?

I thought about what he was asking, not finding the offer entirely appalling. In fact, it would be better for someone to do it with me anyway since I would have no way of knowing what I was trying to remember if the moment was erased. Someone would have to tell me if it was to make sure.

Thinking about it all was like a punch in the stomach. It seemed like a stretch to believe that it could possibly work, even if I owed it to myself to try.

"Okay."