Bella's POV
We had arrived at the restaurant a while ago and ordered food minutes earlier. My plate sat untouched, steam wafting into the air as I tried to understand why this moment felt so unnervingly significant.
Eric took a slow sip of water and set the glass down gently. “You should eat,” he reminded me, the way someone would remind a child.
I nodded and forced myself to lift a forkful of pasta. “You… wanted to talk,” I said, watching him instead of my food. “So… talk.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Straight to the point, huh?”
“It’s all I have,” I said honestly. “I don’t have memories. I don’t have context. I don’t have history. So I need… facts.”
He sobered at that, and guilt flickered across his face. “Right. Facts.”
A beat of silence passed. I shifted uncomfortably.
“So,” I conti
