Recap: Kinsley met Phoenix at a game for the first time that she remembers. He asked her out on a date.

Late September. 2016

"So, what, I'm dating him?"

Sadie walked through the kitchen, hands full of vegetables and ingredients, her bare feet padding across the hard wood floor. It was eleven at night but she had to work tomorrow and wanted to get dinner organised ahead of time.

"Yeah. Dating is a word for it."

"Do I love him?"

"Yeah."

"Sadie," I slammed a hand on the countertop as she went about putting potatoes and carrots on a cutting board. "Again with the being vague. Like, where has he been? The injury was three weeks ago and I'm just hearing about this now?"

Her knife went through the potato's, with quick efficiency. "Do you really want to do this right now?"

"No, I'm asking for no fucking reason."

"Sheesh," she mumbled, getting a leek out of the fridge. "Fine. He was there, Kins. The night it happened. He was the one who took you to the hospital. You had no idea who he was when you woke up to him lifting you out of his car. He thought it was just. . . temporary."

"He was at the hospital?"

Getting there had always been an insignificant detail. The last thing I could recall without haze was Sadie sitting next to me while a doctor fired seven thousand questions off and then insisted we do a CAT scan.

I felt fine. Sort of sore and nauseous. But Sadie quietly sobbing next to me after a bump on the head seemed dramatic, even for her.

Little did I know, the fact that I thought I was going to be late handing in a paper for management and communications class because I wasn't in my dorm writing it, was the real cause for concern.

"Fine, whatever," I said, getting a glass off the shelf. I felt dehydrated and sort of sick, I filled it up and leaned my back against the bench. "How come he didn't come and see me?"

Sadie threw a handful of potatoes into her slow cooker. "So, when he arrived, I was there. He'd called ahead and told me what happened and where he was taking you. You recognised me but not him so the doctor asked him to wait outside. Which he. . . wasn't happy with, but he listened.

"The doctor did what he does, ran some tests, all of that and diagnosed retrograde amnesia. He had no idea how long it would last. Bla bla bla. You know all of that. It'd been hours at this point but Phoenix was still waiting. The doctor and I talked to him and we all decided it was best to give you a bit of time to adjust to . . . your new normal."

"It feels like you guys hid this huge part of my life from me."

"That wasn't it," Sadie snapped, ignoring her meal prep to look at me. "You had to process losing six years of your life, Kinsley. We didn't want to unload enormous amounts of information on you at one time. Phoenix agreed to wait for a little while, let you ease back into life and come around when it wasn't all so. . . daunting."

It made sense, I suppose. At the end of the day, it didn't matter if she told me now or in another three months, I would still feel overwhelmed.

"He's been here the whole time," Sadie said, her tone softening. "He calls me every single night. He asks me how your day was, how you're feeling, if you're happy. The other night he called and begged me to bring you to the game tonight."

It was quiet in the kitchen. There was no noise outside. For a while, all I could hear was Phoenix's voice telling me he wanted to win me back.

How could something be so familiar and so foreign at the same time. He gave me the feeling of returning to a childhood home. Complete nostalgia, only, without the memories.

"He's cute," I finally said, not knowing what else to say.

Sadie arched a brow. "He's fucking hot."

"Excuse me."

"What," she laughed, picking up the knife and slicing into a carrot. "You should've seen yourself after he— never mind."

"What?"

"No," she shook her head. "He doesn't want me share stuff about your relationship."

"Why?"

"You're starting with a clean slate," she said. "He wants to as well."

"That's kind of sweet."

"He's a sweet guy."

I finished off the rest of the water I was clutching and blew out a long breath. This was a lot to sleep on.

"Fine. Don't tell me about our relationship. Just tell me what I was like after. . . whatever you were going to tell me."

Her grin grew, expression distant as if she were off in thought. "You fell into the sofa and kicked your legs in the air. Like, actual full body flailing and giggling. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever seen. Especially considering you'd sort of sworn off dating after Marissa and Alex. And Hayden."

Hayden, the relationship I'd left over a year ago because he was 'short tempered.' Apparently I didn't need to know much about that one, just that it was short and fleeting and he was lucky to still be alive.

Sadie threw the rest of the ingredients into the pot and flicked the switch to delay start. It would start cooking in the morning and be ready for dinner.

"Then you told me you wanted to climb him like a tree," she said and I slapped a hand across my mouth. "Can't blame you. Look at the man. Six foot three, chiselled, sweet and del—"

"Sadie," I cut her off. "It sounds like you want him."

"Those were your words," she said and we both burst into laughter.

         The morning started with a call from dad. He had no qualms about the time difference  from where he was in Toronto. If it was a good time for him to call, it was good for me. Even if it was six in the morning.

"Quinoa," he cheered when I answered the landline next to my bed, still half asleep with my face buried in the pillow. It felt like I'd only just dozed off after tossing and turning over thoughts of Phoenix and this apparent romance.

"Dad," I grumbled. "It's six in the morning."

"It's nine. How are you my Quinoa?"

He started calling me that when I was seven. A couple of girls at a sleepover teased me when they found out dad put quinoa on my cereal. He figured he'd turn it into a term of endearment and it worked.

Dad was good like that, he managed to take the pain in our lives and kiss it better. Mom died when Sadie was born, he'd been doing his best to be a mother and a father ever since.

"I'm fine, dad. You?"

"Yeah, fine. You still remember me?"

I rolled over and stared at the ceiling, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. "You're hilarious. Yes, dad. My entire life didn't get wiped."

"You went to the game last night?"

"Yeah," I said. "Why is that?"

"You met a man?"

"Is this about Phoenix?"

"Ahh," he sounded pleased. "You've been filled in then."

"Yeah, all caught up on my love life, dad. Not weird at all."

"He's a good boy, Quinoa."

That made me smile. Dad had always let me make my own decisions but if he didn't like someone's vibes, he let me know. Of course, I had no recollection of the last two major relationships in my life, before Phoenix, so I wondered what he thought of those. It seemed irrelevant to bring it up now.

When Sadie graduated high school and started college, dad moved to Toronto. He'd wanted to go for a long time but Sadie and I didn't. So he waited until he knew we would be okay without him. I missed him. All the time. But we'd see him again at Christmas.

"You well, dad?"

"Yes, I'm well," he got that far off tone in his voice. I'd noticed it when he visited after the injury. Like his thoughts were elsewhere and he was done with the conversation now he knew I was good. Sadie said he'd been like that for a while now. I didn't hold it against him.

He'd spent our entire lives being a hands on father with little time for himself. Life was his now.

"I have to go, dad," I said. "Have a good day."

"You too, Quinoa. I love you."

"Love you, dad."

         I lay in bed until I heard Sadie leave for her job as a children's tour guide at the science museum. It wasn't that I didn't want to see her, I just didn't want her asking how I slept or what I was feeling. The truth was, I couldn't tell her how I was feeling right now.

At nine, I got out of bed, showered, dressed, ate, went through the motions of another morning without a purpose. Sadie said my boss had called her a few times to ask how I was feeling and whether I was ready to return to work, at least part time.

After being told how important the role was and how much I was responsible for, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I managed entire teams of staff and made big money calls. That was a lot of pressure and I didn't want to fuck it up.

I knew I'd have to make a decision eventually. They wouldn't hold the position forever and I was getting paid while I wasn't there. That would run out too.

At midday, I heated up a bowl of pumpkin soup we had for dinner the night before. It was fine. I was craving a cheeseburger but the first time I ate meat after the injury, I threw up. My body had grown accustomed to a vegan diet and it didn't like being violated.

The aroma of the slow cooked dinner Sadie prepared last night was starting to drift through the house and I had to resist lifting the lid to peep inside.

The doorbell rung while I was staring at the gallery wall in the kitchen. The forest green paint was covered in different sized frames, paintings, pictures and clocks. It looked beautiful and apparently it was my idea.

With a deep sigh, I stood up and went to the door, swinging it straight open.

"You need a phone," Phoenix said from the door step. A long sleeved shirt clung to his chest and arms and he stood tall with his hands his sweat pant pockets.

"Do I?"

"I couldn't call ahead," he said. "I would've. I apologise. You free right now?"

"I'm . . . doing absolutely nothing," I admitted. "Do you want to come in?"

His gaze gave me a slow once over and it made my heart speed up. Did he like what he saw? It kind of seemed like that.

"You're beautiful," he said, shifting his weight. "You're also dressed just right for what I have in mind. You want to join me?"

Apparently sheer panelled leggings and a cropped hoodie was just right. As weird as I found this outfit, I also liked how it fit me and flattered the curves I'd always had a love, hate relationship with. This was just one of the many outfits living in my drawers that I couldn't believe I bought.

"We're not going out, out, right? Like, for a meal or whatever. I'm not dressed for that."

"You could go a lot of places in that outfit. Life has a causal dress code these days, babe— oh, I'm— sorry. Habit."

"I don't mind," I said. "No harm done. You remember things differently than I do."

"Still," he said, palming his jaw. "I'm not going to pick up where we left off. It's not fair. We start again, together."

Something told me it wasn't hard to fall in love with this man.

After I locked up and left a note for Sadie, in case she got home before I did, I followed Phoenix out to his truck. It was tall and black on enormous wheels. Inside, after I'd hauled myself into the passenger seat, I settled in and admired the butter like leather seats and digital dashboard.

It was all Bluetooth. I used to use Bluetooth to sync songs between phones. Now it was telling him who'd called, what the weather was and how close he was to another vehicle. Sadie told me I have a beautiful new car too, parked at my apartment in South Granville. I wasn't allowed to drive for at least another month though, to be sure the head injury was healed.

"Is that—" I stared at the screen on his dashboard. The screensaver was a selfie of him and I. "Us?"

"Yeah," he sat in the driver seat, thick thighs spread.

The photo was taken at a rink. Phoenix was in his uniform and he held me under the butt, my legs wrapped around his waist and our faces together while we smiled at the camera. We looked. . . on top of the world.

"What first?" Phoenix said, pulling out from the curb.

"What?"

"What do you want to do?"

"You said you had a plan?"

"The plan was to do something together. What it is, I don't mind. You choose, ba— Kinsley."

My heart fluttered at him using that word again. Babe. I liked it.

"Well, what do we do together?"

"I'm not telling you that," he said, one hand on the wheel, the other on his thigh.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not taking advantage of what I know and you don't. I'm not going to win points by doing all of your favourite things. I'm getting to know whoever you are now and whatever you want to do, that's what we'll do."

"Phoenix," I said, looking at his side profile. "I don't think I'm the same woman you fell in love with before. You might not like whoever I am now."

He let his attention fall to me for a moment. "Then I'd be a fucking idiot. I don't believe there's one version of you that I wouldn't adore."

He meant what he said, that was obvious. There was this intensity in his voice and even though I didn't know him, his certainty reached the deepest part of who I am and laid a promise at my feet.

His gaze flicked toward me again, taking his eyes off the road just long enough that he could meet mine. "I'm looking forward to finding out what part of you I get to love next."