The first thing I forgot was that Noah Vale had a wedding ring. The second was why my best friend was sitting beside my hospital bed with a husband's terror in his eyes. After a head injury erased the last two years of my memory, everyone around me expected me to accept the life I'd built: the house by the water, the ring on my hand, and the marriage I couldn't remember choosing. Noah never demanded that I believe him. He gave me space, answered my questions, and hid how badly my rejection hurt. But the more I learned about the woman I'd been before the accident, the less certain I became that my missing memories held the truth I needed. If I could choose Noah once without remembering loving him, would I still choose him?