I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who married a stranger. But a year ago, I came home from my shift at the library and found an unconscious man slumped on my porch.
I dropped my bags and rushed forward. “Hey! Are you alright?”
He didn’t answer, just mumbled something I couldn’t catch. I knelt, shaking, and saw he was young, maybe early 30s, with sandy hair and a bruise blooming over his left eye.
His hands were scraped raw. I fumbled for my phone, calling 911 with trembling fingers.
“Hey! Are you alright?”
While we waited for the ambulance, I covered him with my jacket, trying not to panic. “Stay with me,” I said, voice soft. “You’re not alone. Help’s coming, I promise.”
The medics arrived, swept him up, and just like that, he was gone. I never even learned his name.
Or so I thought.
***
A week later, I opened my front door to find him standing there, holding a wild bouquet of flowers so beautiful and haphazard I nearly laughed.
“Help’s coming, I promise.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I owe you thanks. They said you called for help. You probably saved my life.”
I blinked, stunned. “You… you’re okay?”
He nodded, still a little pale, still wearing a hospital wristband. “Mostly. But I, uh… I don’t remember anything. They told me I collapsed here. I just kept thinking about this house… and the woman who helped me.”
I hesitated, heart pounding. He looked so lost, so sincere, I couldn’t send him away. “Come in. You look like you could use some tea.”
“You probably saved my life.”
***
We sat at my kitchen table.
“They said your name’s David,” I said finally.
He nodded. “That’s what they told me. It feels right. But everything else is just… blank.” He shrugged, eyes troubled. “No memories. Not even of myself.”
I studied him, the way he cradled the mug in both hands, like it was precious. “No family?”
He shook his head. “None that I remember.”
“They said your name’s David.”
I tried to imagine losing everything, even myself, and felt a shiver of compassion.
“Well, I’m Talia,” I offered. “And you’re welcome to stay for a bit, until you figure things out.”
He looked at me, surprised. “You sure? I don’t want to be a burden. And you… don’t know me.”
“You’re not a burden, David. And I have a guest bedroom,” I said, almost before I knew the words were true.
***
One night turned into two, then a week. Before long, David had become the quiet rhythm of my house, pancakes on Saturdays, coffee before I asked, little repairs done before I noticed they needed doing.
“You always say you’re fine before you cry,” he said one anxious morning, sliding a mug toward me. “So I made this before you hit denial.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
I laughed. “You’re dangerous, you know. People aren’t supposed to be this nice.”
He grinned. “Maybe I was a therapist.”
***
David played with the neighbor’s kids for hours, inventing games in the yard. Daisy followed him everywhere and slept at his feet like she’d chosen him herself.
And soon people started to notice.
My best friend, Sadie, watched us from across my kitchen table one afternoon, brow raised.
“Talia, you barely know this guy. What if he’s hiding something?”
I shrugged, glancing at David through the window. “He’s just lost, Sade. I can feel it. And he’s… good. Really good.”
“You’re dangerous, you know.”
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