"Please, I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lie to you, I just... I thought..."

He fumbled with his words, trying to find something—anything—to excuse his actions. They'd been friends. Until the accident, and his friend's coma, and the amnesia, and that damned question about what their relationship was. Lying that they'd been together had been an impulse, a stupid spur-of-the-moment decision. Yes, he'd been hopelessly in love from the day they'd met, but that was no excuse to make up a love that had only existed on his end. He should've corrected himself, but he hadn't. He should've taken any of the numerous opportunities to come clean, but he hadn't.

Things had been going well. They'd moved in together. They'd been talking about marriage. Children. He'd decided to tell the truth, before any of that happened—but karma had beaten him to the punch. This afternoon, his partner's memories had suddenly come flooding back, and he'd watched in horror as the enormity of his lie dawned on the features that had been full of nothing but love for him moments earlier.

"Please," he repeated. "Talk to me. Don't go. I... I was going to tell you, I swear. I know my word doesn't mean much right now, but just... Don't leave like this. Not like this."