AnastasiaMaxim didn't say much. He listened to the doctors when they came to check on me, and I was astounded by how fluent he was. The receptionist had spoken in English at the hotel, but here, I witnessed how experienced Maxim was at speaking in Spanish.There was so much I didn't know about him, and not for the first time, I wished I had all the time in the world to get to know him.He handled the process of getting me checked out, and when the lead doctor assessed me, still concerned about memory issues, he seemed suspicious. I went with the story that Maxim was my husband—the lie he started—and with his collaborative falsehoods, we convinced them that I suddenly, almost magically, no longer had memory issues.That just seeing my "husband" had snapped me out of the mental fog.I was discharged, and still, on the drive from the hospital, Maxim didn't say anything.He was mad. Aloof. Broody.The longer he remained quiet, the tenser I became. I was lucky to have been hit with no lin
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