He lifted a hand and stepped forward, snarling. Come here—"

He wrung his hands. I should be fighting back, but it was so hard to charge at him. It wasn't because I still thought of him as blood-related, but it was just because...

All the memories flooded back. How he got away with it, so many times...

He brought up his hand —

But nothing came.

Nicholas was there first.

He stepped in front of me and struck out a hand immediately. I guess I'd been right about his physique. He could throw a crazy punch, enough for the man to reel back into the wall and slam into it.

Nick was teeming with rage. Never before have I seen him like this. He charged forward and drove into his jaw, then kicked the side. There was no stopping him.

He sneered. "How dare you —"

I could have let him go on. It was satisfying to see that monster hurt, broken. But then sense appealed to me.

"Nick, stop! Don't do anything you'll regret —" I held him back. The second he heard his name, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He listened to me.

The man laughed so deviously, I was certain he was the evil Joker. "Go on. Finish me, you coward!"

Nick finally stepped back. "That's for her to do."

With an arm protectively around me, we left the house. I bit back my tears as we got into his car.

Even though I was sensitive now, there was something about Nick's touch that I craved. He held my hand and patted it gently, coaxing me. "It's okay. Let it all out."

"No, I— You shouldn't see me like this." He thought I was Zara. Zara didn't own a house like that, and definitely didn't have a stepfather like that.

"I can't believe you're thinking about that in this situation." Nick sputtered as if it was the most ludicrous thing in the world. Trying to suppress it, he started driving away. Anywhere but here.

Odd choice, but it was the closest option. He moved us to the parking lot outside a Chick-fil-A just so we could talk.

Nicholas got out of the car. He went to my side, opened the door and crouched in front of me. His voice was small, soothing, but undeniably hurt.

"You didn't think about telling me why you couldn't go home? I would have gone in with you! Jeez, Emma, if I hadn't gone in, can you imagine what might have happened?"

My world screeched to a stop. I was certain I had heard him wrong.

"Wh—What did you just call me?"

Did he just say —

"Emma." He spoke clearly. It was noon, yet his eyes seemed to reflect the night. Crouched in front of me, he seemed vulnerable. Exposed. Like he was bearing his heart to me —

I looked down at myself. I hadn't had time to change, so I was still in his shirt. And the last time he saw me in this shirt, he called me Zara.

I was so confused. Who did he think I was?

"How did you know where to find me?"

"After you left like that, you didn't think I'd be worried? I followed you, and when I heard the commotion I figured something wasn't right."

After I left? So, he let me stay the night knowing I was the girl he met at Sandwich King?

That didn't add up. Because we were having dinner as Zara and Nick. Did that mean —

"Nicholas." My voice trembled.

"It's okay, it's okay." He brought a hand up to my face, cupping my cheek lightly.

I quivered. "You know. You know how I lied to you—"

Before I could say anything else, his lips met mine, shutting me up effectively. He was gentle and slow this time, his hands glazing over my cheeks to wipe my tears.

"Emma." He whispered my name as he lost his hands in my hair. My eyes widened when he said it again. But he wasn't mad. He wasn't disgusted by me. Nick knew who he was kissing, and he still wanted it that way...

Emma. It felt so good to hear him say my name. He whispered it into my mouth, tangling my locks. He repeated my name like it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard.

"You know who I am?" I asked when we pulled away slightly, foreheads still pressed together. I still couldn't fathom this.

"Of course I do." He tore away painfully, but it was so we could discuss about it properly.

"But I thought... your prosopagnosia, Nick. You recognize a person by anything but a person's face. The way they move, the color of their hair... If I dressed like Zara, you would see her instead..."

"Then you're forgetting one important thing." He beamed, "I also recognize a person by personality, by gait — the way you walked arrow-straight. Your kind demeanor, the way you know how to put a smile on my face, every single time..."

He ran a hand through his hair, convincing me yet again that he didn't even need to try to look dashing. My knees went weak as his eyes flickered back to me.

"The first time I saw you, I did think you were Zara. You seemed to have the same movements, the same physique, the same skin and hair color, and a lot of other similar things. But the thing that really made you who you were was your personality. Sure, you both have wit, and that sarcasm and confidence as you spoke. But you were different in other ways. At times when you didn't even realize, you were incredibly gentle. You were funny enough to make me crack up as if it was the first joke I heard in years. And you were there for me. I could feel that you were a different person entirely. Plus, there were so many other signs."

I gulped. "The seafood. It must have been the seafood."

Nick threw his head back and laughed like a little kid. "Ah yes, the allergy. I'm sorry about that, by the way. And the izakaya. And the movie — gosh, Emma." He swept my hair back gently. "Zara and I never ever watched a movie. She never cared enough to do that, and plus, you really think she'd sit in a dark theatre? That'd be a hygiene disaster for her."

"Hey. I don't have a single clue how Zara's supposed to be like." I crossed my arms. "So, when did you really find out?"

"Honestly, I already got suspicious the second time I saw you. But the one that really sealed the deal was when you wore this." He pinched the silk fabric of his shirt that I was wearing. "I saw the real you in Sandwich King, and I was suspicious that that was the real girl I was searching for. When you wore my shirt yesterday night, it made me realize that it wasn't the clothes that mattered. Just because you put on a refined dress, didn't make you Zara. In a lab coat or in a white Louis Vuitton jacket, it's still you."

"Ah, so it's the shirt that made you fall for me. I heard that wearing your boyfriend's shirt is always hot." I teased.

"What did you just say?" Nick leaned forward, a smile playing on his lips.

Oh god, I called him boyfriend. I sputtered, "Wait. I don't mean in that way. It's just —"

Again, his mouth met mine before I could continue. I realized I should probably teach him a lesson or two about doing that.

For now, I was occupied. My hands went around him as I drew him to me. He smelled of coconut shampoo, and his hair was damp when I ran through it. "Thank you. For not being angry. For liking me regardless of who I am."

Nick mouthed a sincere reply, "No, I feel worse because I can't even see your face."

I laughed, "That's excellent news, actually. If you could see my face, I don't think you'd want to date me anymore."

"Yeah, right. I heard everyone talk about how you're so beautiful that it puts anyone else to shame. You practically make them fall over when they talk about you." He recalled gleefully. "Not that I really care about appearances anymore. My prosopagnosia taught me that."

"You're right, it's what the heart feels that matters." I moved his hand over my heart.

His eyes only went there for a split second. "Emma?" He gulped.

"Yeah?"

"Probably not such a good idea to put my hand there."

I laughed and transferred it back to my face. I let him feel my cheekbones first, and then let his thumb run over the corner of my lip.

"I can see your features, technically. I'm just not piecing them together. It really frustrated me that I couldn't see what you look like, but you comforted me about that. You always have your way with words."

"You too." I beamed. I felt so safe with him, as if the previous events didn't happen. There wasn't any villainous father potentially chasing me. He was there to protect me from it all.

"So, you knew it was me when we kissed yesterday night?" I confirmed a final time.

"Of course. I kissed the girl I fell for." He whispered.

That made my heart race. I reached for him and pressed my lips to his. We were faster now, and I could feel us deepening the kiss. I pulled him in, and the door of the car pretty much pushed the rest of him to my seat.

Never have I felt like this before. I couldn't quite understand my surge of emotions. All I knew was that this was like heaven. I breathed him in like a gulp of fresh air and heat.

But before anything could continue, the door opened again. I heard the sound of something falling to the floor, and opened my eyes.

Oh no, a box of chicken nuggets!

Horrified, I looked at the clumsy owner. His mouth was wide open.

Hunter gaped, looking between the both of us.

"You?"