I held his gaze, willing him to remember more, but when a single tear ran down his stubbled cheek, it took everything I had not to fall apart.

I lurched forward and threw myself into his arms. “Lyubov moya! Please… no,” I whispered and wrapped my arms around his neck and straddled his hips, feeling his heart thundering in his chest against mine. “It’s okay. We’ll get you to remember who you are. You’ll remember everything in time. I promise.”

His body shook and his nose tucked into the crook between my shoulder and neck, and he hugged me back, so tight it was a struggle to breathe.

We were silent, quietly sitting and comforting one another, when he asked, “Am I… am I this boy in the picture? The one holding you?”

I stilled and so very slowly pulled back to face him. Raze’s eyes had darkened, glittering with questions, and when our gazes collided, I replied, “Yes. I think you are the boy in that picture. At first I didn’t know, but now I’m sure. It’s you…”

Raze didn’t show any reaction, but his hand abruptly cupped my cheek and his head tilted to the side. We stayed that way for minutes and minutes, until his lips parted and a rush of breath poured through, and he whispered, “My Kisa-Anna… my solnyshko… God put a piece of your blue eyes in mine so we would always know we matched…”

Like a dam breaking, relieved excitement washed through me like a river amidst a hurricane, and I sobbed and cried, “Luka… my Luka…” before pressing my lips against this man’s, tasting the essence of the boy I had been created and destined to love. Loving the lost man I now held in my arms.

Raze froze against my mouth, and I broke away to see his eyes shining, looking lost. “Luka?” he questioned, only for his eyes to widen, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “Luka… I was called Luka… My name was Luka?”

“Yes.” I smiled and peppered kisses all over his face.

His hands clenched the thick strands of my brown hair. “Kisa-Anna, my Kisa-Anna,” he kept murmuring over and over, and I was sure I would never tire of my name pouring from his perfect full lips.

“Yes! Yes, Luka. I’m yours! I was made for you.”

We stayed clutched in each other’s arms for what could have been an age, when I eventually pulled back, gave him a long sweet kiss, and said, “Would you come somewhere with me? I want to take you somewhere… somewhere special.”

Raze tilted his head to the side but, without question, replied, “Anywhere. I… trust you.”

He trusted me…

Rising to my feet, I took Raze’s hand, led him into the bathroom and, wetting a rag, cleaned the area around his new tattoo and laid gauze over his new scars.

Raze slipped on a sweatshirt and sweatpants. I couldn’t help but smile when I realized it was that same gray hooded sweatshirt that I had first seen him in, and I held out my hand.

Raze lifted the hood over his head—I assumed it was instinctive for him to hide as we were going outside—and came forward and cautiously took my outstretched hand. I wrapped my fingers in his and squeezed.

Raze’s brown eyes caught mine from under his hood, and without a word, I led him outside, his huge frame dwarfing mine.

As we slipped out the back door, I spotted the awaiting Lincoln, and Serge jumped out of the car, his tall broad body tense like he was prepping for trouble.

Raze pulled me to a stop and pushed me behind him as if Serge were going to be a threat. I jerked on his hand and Raze growled, “Stay back.”

I pushed my way around Raze and pushed on his solid chest with my hand until his eyes dropped to mine. “He’s a friend, Raze. Like 362 was to you. He’s my friend.” I cast a glance back at Serge and knew Serge could hear everything I said out in this quiet parking lot, but I knew I could trust him. “You used to know him too. He used to be like an uncle to you.”

Raze’s head tipped to the side, and I could see his eyes squint under the shadow of his hood as he stared at Serge. I lifted my hand, laid it on his cheek and whispered, “Let yourself remember, Luka.”

Raze’s eyes slammed to mine at the mention of his old name, and as he glanced up at Serge again, I saw the moment the memory fixed in place. His tense muscles relaxed and a labored breath exhaled from his mouth.

“Serge,” he hushed out quietly. “Serge.” Raze rolled the name around on his tongue, and as I glanced back to Serge, his face was pale and he looked to me in shock. I knew he’d started to believe me.

Taking Raze’s hand once more, I walked him over to Serge, who couldn’t take his eyes off my fighter, my long lost love.

“Serge,” I greeted, and Raze froze, his head dipped down, and his hood covered his entire face.

Serge was silent.

Looking up at Raze, I said, “Raze, pull back your hood.”

Raze didn’t move for a few long seconds, but he eventually lifted his hand and drew back his hood, his downcast eyes slowly lifting and fixed on Serge.

Serge’s eyes were assessing as he studied Raze up close.

“Sergei?” Raze said, and Serge blanched further at the use of his full first name. He looked at me in disbelief, just as Raze said, “I… I remember you.” Raze gripped my hand and pressed it to his lips, the action almost making me drop to my knees in happiness.

“You would drive me and Kisa to school… and to the beach?”

“Yes,” Serge replied, and I heard the clogging of his throat and saw the tears build in his eyes. “Christ! It is you! You look different, but… yes, it’s you.”