That night, Reine tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. She regretted going to bed so early, but by the time she had finally given up on trying to get some rest, the house was eerily quiet. Everyone else had apparently retired for the night.

After finding both the kitchen and living room empty, she had a sudden urge to head to the basement. It was odd for her want to revisit the place which caused her such fear and discomfort just that morning, but she had nothing else to do, so she followed her instincts.

The underwater lights illuminating the pool made the otherwise dark space seem even more cavernous. Their filtered reflection bounced off the tall ceiling, making Reine comfortable enough to walk around the perimeter. The colorful lane markers were gone, and the surface of the water was an unbroken, aquamarine sheet.

She stayed several feet from the edge, lest she fall in again. While Morgan was there to pull her out that morning, no one was around now to help.

Stopping midway across the room, she sat down and crossed her legs. Her heart beat feverishly in her chest, so she continued to sit motionless just staring at the slightly undulating surface until her breathing resumed its normal rhythm.

Scooting forward a few inches at a time, she continued the same waiting game until she felt relaxed enough to venture further. The next move took her all the way to the edge of the pool. She debated dipping her feet into the water, but ultimately decided against it.

Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, she turned her attention to the door. There was only one person she expected to come through it, and she was right.

Max's face remained stoic; he didn't seem surprised to find her there.

Determined not to be the one to break the silence, she maintained her quiet focus on the water even when he sat down beside her. After a few minutes, however, she couldn't keep her musings to herself any longer.

"I fell in the lagoon, didn't I? That's why I'm so frightened of the water? You tried to save me, but I was too far away."

His head snapped toward her. "How could you know that?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said with a shrug. "Tuesday morning, I had some time before my flight back from Venice so I went for a walk. I ended up staring at the lagoon for a really long time. It was like I was watching a movie. I saw you clear enough to recognize you that night at the party. I know it's crazy after what you've told me, but is it possible for a memory to suddenly resurface like that? Or was my mind just plugging in the gap?"

He sighed. "Occasionally, returning to a place with a lot of emotional impact can trigger something which feels like déjà vu. And you are certainly correct about how you died. We had been on Murano to pick out a chandelier for our palazzo. It was my wedding present to you. You chose one with dozens of pink and white flowers." He smiled at the memory. "We were on our way back across the lagoon when the storm hit. It came so suddenly. You should have never even been there to begin with."

She was relishing hearing all of the details, but his last comments hurt. "Are you trying to say it was my fault?"

He interlaced his fingers in his lap. "All I'm saying is that if you hadn't insisted on coming to Venice, you wouldn't have been able to fall into the lagoon that night," he said.

Reine balled her fist. In spite of their apparent history, she didn't know Max well enough, and she still wasn't comfortable arguing with him. He had certainly shown himself to be the type who put the blame on others without ever thinking he could be responsible for something going wrong. However, when it was time to take credit, it was probably only natural he got commended. She imagined this gave him a big ego, and it most likely served him well in the business world. It also probably helped him get this far in his current status. However, it didn't help to endear her to him.

Nevertheless, he did say something, which caught her attention. "So, we were on our honeymoon?" she asked.

"No one called it that at the time, but I suppose that's what it was. We'd married on Christmas Eve. I had some business to take care of, so you tagged along." He furrowed his brows. "Why do you look so confused?"

She shook her head. "Everything I've known about my life before that night, I learned from hearsay. Soon after awakening, I found refuge in a convent just north of Venice. Within a few days, locals started bringing news of a tragedy: that the body of a young Florentine woman had been fished out of the waters. That's how I found out my name and age. But that's what I don't understand. If we had been so in love as you had said, why did it take us that long to marry? In the Fifteenth Century, I would have been considered an old maid by then."

"That's a curious detail to fixate on, but if you must know, we had been betrothed since we were teens. My father's sudden death necessitated the initial postponement of the wedding. He'd been a successful merchant and I had to take over. I was often away after that."

"Is anyone else from my family still alive?"

He turned toward the water again. "No, I'm sorry. In fact, I don't believe anyone from Florence you may have known is like us."

"Don't you find that odd? That out of everyone, we're the only ones left?" she asked.

"Not particularly."

She touched his arm. "Why not?"

"Our kind instinctively gravitate toward one another," he said without blinking.

Reine cleared her throat. "So . . . we were meant to be together?"

"Absolutely. But the saying isn't true you know."

"Which one?"

He leaned closer. "None of them, actually. But the one I had in mind was that opposites attract. They don't. People need to be alike to understand each other. Like us."

His smile stirred something within her. She was warming up to him again, and Reine tried to resist his unabashed advances. Because he was in a talkative mood, she pressed further with the questioning. "You obviously died sometime after me, so how come you remember these details? You even said Amara reminds you of me as a child."

"The same way you just said that you found out about your past. By talking to people. By writing things down. Over the years, I learned a few tricks and have pieced together what I consider to be relevant enough to know."

He reached toward her face, but after hesitating, he clenched his fist instead. "You've probably noticed that our type of amnesia only affects personal experiences."

Reine shook her head. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for example we still know how to drive a car, even if we forgot we died in a car accident. No matter what happens to us, our knowledge and skills remain intact." He leaned forward and scooped the water up in his palm. Letting it trickle through his fingers, he continued. "Didn't you think it was odd how you still can speak Italian or know all you do about Renaissance art? Well, not everything. You don't remember things which you actually experienced while you were alive in the Fifteenth Century. You only know things you learned afterwards."

"That's confusing," she muttered.

"Yes, but once you figure this out, it's actually helpful. You see, after you talk to people who knew you and they tell you stories about your life, you'll never forget those details because they turn from experiences to knowledge. Is that clearer now?"

"Oh, I see what you mean. Hey, what are you doing?" Her eyes widened as he stood up and started to take off his pants.

Without answering, he removed his shirt, as well. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, Max turned around and dove head-first into the turquoise pool. He swam under the water, and his head broke the surface only when he got to the other side.

He swam back toward her, his arms splashing shimmering drops around him. Stopping a few feet away from the edge, he began to tread water.

"Come join me."

"Absolutely not," she said as she pursed her lips.

"You'll be okay. I promise."

Reine pulled her feet out of the water and stood up. "You're not going to get me into that pool again."

He scoffed. "For someone who could afford to be fearless, you sure are afraid to live."

"That's not true." She shook her head.

He blew a droplet of water off his lips. "Prove it."

"You're crazy," she said while laughing nervously and crossing her arms.

"No, I'm right. And you know it." He continued to effortlessly tread water.

Reine's heart, however, was pounding erratically, and her breathing had become rapid. Her feet were rooted to the floor, and no matter which way she wanted to go, she couldn't move.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Max sympathized with her discomfort. "You shouldn't have to go through life even with the subconscious fear of reliving that moment every time you get near water."

Her legs started shaking, and her knees were about to buckle under her, but Reine took a step forward.

"That's it," he urged. "You don't have to jump in. Just come on over to the ladder and slowly climb down. I'll be right here to get you."

She walked carefully, conscious of the continued weakness in her legs. Once at the ladder, Reine turned around and grabbed the cold, round handrails leading to the mostly submerged crosspieces.

With a deep breath, she took the first step down. The rung was still above water, but her courage faded with each step as she continued her climb down. When the ladder ended, the cool water only reached her thighs and she still had her back to Max. A shiver ran up her spine and goose bumps covered her whole body. "Now what?"

"Turn around."

She tried shifting her feet on the bar, but it wasn't working. "I can't."

"You'll have to go up and come down the other way," he said.

Rolling her eyes, she wondered why he hadn't pointed that out earlier. She climbed up the few steps, turned around so she was now facing the pool, and slowly returned to the bottom rung. All the while, she continued to firmly grip the handrails on both sides.

"Good girl. Now, can you swim over to me?"

He was about a body-length away. "No way." She shook her head.

With one swift stroke, he swam to her and grabbed the ladder with one hand. Looking up at her, he continued his instructions. "Put one arm around my neck and slowly lower yourself in the water, okay?"

Bending her knees, Reine slid her hands down the railing as low as she could. After letting one go, she wrapped an arm around his neck.

Max, however, was straining under the confines of being attached by her to the side of the pool. "Now, step off the ladder."

"Okay." Her voice cracked.

Reluctantly pushing herself off the bottom rung, she let go of the stable object before entwining her other arm around him. Max also let go of the rail and used both his arms and legs to keep them floating.

They rhythmically bobbed with each stroke, as his legs moved under them. Unnerved by the splashing, Reine panicked and began to do the same thing.

"Wrap your legs around my waist." Max kept his instructions calm. When she didn't comply, he became more forceful. "Reine, I've got you. You need to trust me. Close your eyes and stop kicking. Just wrap your legs around me."

This time, she listened and did as told. She cleared her mind of everything but him, concentrating only on the warmth of his body and the feel of the water swirling around her. Several seconds passed as they moved further toward the middle of the pool. She squeezed her eyes closed even harder at the thought.

Feeling her body tense up, Max put one arm around her waist. He continued to paddle with the other, keeping them above the surface.

"I've got you," he repeated his earlier promise. "You can open your eyes, if you want."

She took another deep breath and peeked through her wet lashes. With both arms still wrapped tightly around his neck, she looked over his shoulder at the hypnotically sparkling water.

To prevent another imminent episode of alarm, he diverted her attention. "Look at me, Reine."

She turned her head obediently. Locking her gaze with Max's greenish-brown eyes instantly reassured her, and her thoughts were no longer preoccupied with the possibility of drowning. It was the first time in the three days since learning of his existence she didn't want to blame, punch, or interrogate him.

They continued to silently stare at each other as he treaded the water. She clung to him with all of her limbs and for that short while, nothing else mattered. Focusing on a shiny water droplet on his short, dark hair, she watched it succumb to gravity. Sliding down to his forehead, it reached his nose before falling back into the pool.

As her eyes travelled down his face, Max also shifted his gaze to her mouth. Leaning toward her, his lips found hers.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the pool of a house outside Philadelphia in February, but on a bridge in Florence mid-summer. The aroma of freshly baked bread mingled with jasmine and replaced the smell of chlorine in her nostrils.

Max's kisses were urgent and demanding, as he probed for her response. His stubble grazed her delicate skin, but she didn't care about the discomfort. Reine reciprocated his actions willingly and became completely lost in the moment, even as his hand moved from around her waist to cradle her from underneath, instead.

When someone nearby cleared his throat, both of their heads turned toward the source of the interruption.

"We need to go. Now, Captain." The man had come in so quietly that neither of them had noticed. Worse yet, the extra emphasis confirmed he had clearly seen everything.

"Right. Just give me a minute." Max sounded as if he'd been expecting the visitor.

"You're an important man," Reine whispered in his ear.

Although she didn't mean to make it sound like a question, he answered it as if it were. "Well, that's subjective, isn't it? But if I say yes, then I'll sound like an arrogant asshole, and if I say no, then I'm a liar."

"So, it's both then?" she asked with a smile, her face still just inches away from his.

"You think I'm hiding something from you?"

"Are you?"

He laughed. "Of course I am. You've got amnesia, remember?"

"Touché!" She acted light-hearted, but his statement was scary. He could be telling her anything he wanted her to believe while she'd been taking everything as fact.

She continued to hold on to him, and with just a few quick strokes they were back at the ladder. Reine didn't need further guidance, and she swiftly moved herself onto the object. By the time she had climbed up the few rungs, Max had gotten out over the side.

"There are some fresh towels over there." He pointed her to a shelf in the corner, already pulling his pants on his wet body.

She wrapped herself in the white fluffy fabric which covered most of her exposed skin. She was shaking again, not only from the soaked clothing cooling her, but also from the thought of what had just happened. She couldn't believe how she had let her guard down.

As Max walked her back to her room, Reine began to direct her anger at him for taking advantage of her vulnerability under the guise of getting her over the fear of the water.

"I'm going back home tomorrow," she said once they arrived at her bedroom door.

"What? You just got here," he said as he looked down on her with surprise.

She had to be decisive. "This isn't working, Max. I have my own life to get back to. I won't even know what all I can't remember until I'm back in my own environment."

He thought for a moment before answering. "Very well. But can you just stay one more day? There's a charity event we're scheduled to attend tomorrow night. Morgan's really looking forward to you being there."

"No, Max. I'm just so drained—," she began, but he pulled her to him in a strong embrace.

"I've missed you so much," he admitted for the first time since their reunion. "Please stay."

The words tore at her emotions, and she was furious he could have such a strong effect on her. So, this is what they call 'can't live with him, can't live without him'.

"Fine," she relented. With a quick kiss on the cheek and a final "Sleep well," he was gone.

Once again, there was no way Reine could sleep well. Her previous night's dream had returned, except instead of running through a masked crowd, this time she was dancing amongst it. Her partner kept changing as she passed from person to person, all of them infuriatingly unrecognizable.

When she finally had enough of the mystery and reached out to remove her companion's mask, she woke without any resolution. Confused by these strange dreams, Reine began to question whether it was a good idea to give in to Max's request.

Author's Note: Attached to this chapter is a picture of Reine and Max, which I commissioned from an artist on DeviantArt. She drew them to my specifications, so you can see how I imagined these two characters in one of their most romantic moments. It's the first of two custom illustrations, and the second will show up in a chapter soon! As always, thank you for reading.