Rafael became visibly uncomfortable. Even though the table they’d been seated at provided complete privacy from the other patrons, he glanced around as if the idea of anyone overhearing his personal business caused him no end of grief.

His lips pursed in distaste and then he finally said, “He thinks there’s a psychological reason behind my memory loss. If I was so happy and in love then why would I want to forget? It makes no sense.”

She was unable to control the flinch. Her fingers went numb as she realized how tightly she gripped the fork.

“I didn’t say that to hurt you,” he said in a low voice. “There’s just so much I don’t understand. I want to go back because I want to find the person I lost while I was there. The man you say you loved and who loved you is a stranger to me.”

“Apparently we’re both strangers to you,” she said quietly. “Maybe that man doesn’t exist. Maybe I imagined him.”

Rafael’s gaze dropped down her body to where her belly was hidden by the table. “But neither of us imagined a child. He or she is all too real, the one real thing in this whole situation.”

She couldn’t keep the sadness from her expression. The corners of her mouth drooped and she shoved her plate aside, her appetite gone.

“Our baby isn’t the only real thing in our relationship. My love for you was real. I held nothing back from you. I guess we won’t know whether you were real when you were with me. You deny that you could be that person. You deny it with your every breath. And I’m supposed to forget all of this denial if you suddenly remember you did and do love me.”

She dropped her hands into her lap and wound her fingers tightly together as she leaned forward.

“Tell me, Rafael, which man would I believe? The man who tells me I’m not his type and that he couldn’t possibly have loved me, or the lover who spent every night in my arms while we were on the island? No matter what you remember tomorrow, or the next day, I’ll always know that a part of you rebels at the mere thought of being with me.”

She could tell her words struck a chord with him. Discomfort darkened his features and regret simmered in his eyes. He splayed his hand out in an almost helpless gesture.

“Bryony, I…”

She gave a short, forceful shake of her head. “Don’t, Rafael. Don’t make it worse by saying you didn’t mean it. We both know you did. At least you’ve been honest. You just need to remember that you’re not the only victim in this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she knew he meant it.