If it's Meant to be

Chapter 15: I don't understand

"Timothée." Y/n said in disbelief.

Timothée turned around with a gun in his hand, pointed at y/n and Tom. "I- y/n?" He asked, lowering the gun.

"You- you were- you were dead. I saw you die. How are you-?" Y/n tried to calm down, but considering that her supposed dead fiancé was standing right in front of her and had a gun pointed at her, she wasn't succeeding.

"I don't- I don't remember." He said. "They told me... they told me that I could come here to figure out my life before."

"Who's they? Where have you been? What happened?" Y/n asked, taking hesitant steps forward. Tom pulled her back before she could get close and she turned to give him a questioning look. Tom shook his head, but y/n didn't understand why.

"You look... different." Tom said.

"I was told I was in a car accident while running away. I almost died."

Y/n couldn't understand. "I have to call the detective." She said, turning to walk out of the room.

"NO!" Timothée shouted. "No. Please don't. They told me to stay as far away from the cops."

"Who? Why?" Y/n asked, frustratedly.

"They told me we were engaged..." He said. "Before my accident. I tried looking for you but I didn't know where."

"I- yeah. Well whoever you were with lied to you. You didn't have a car accident, you were s-shot. You took me to this fancy restaurant and you p-p-proposed and right after some people started shooting at everyone. We managed to get out, but not before y-you were s-shot. We had made it to the hospital and you were better. That's what I had thought but the next morning I woke up beside you in the hospital bed and you were... you were d-dead."

Tom placed a comforting hand on her back and she looked at Tom as he watched Timothée carefully.

"What do you remember, Timothée?" Tom asked him stepping in front of y/n.

Timothée looked at y/n and back at Tom. "I woke up surrounded by a group of guys in an apartment about an hour away. The guys had told me that I was in a car accident, and that I was engaged. They told me my name and that I was a famous actor. They told me I should try to remember and get my life back to normal and dropped me off here, that's it."

"Who were the guys?" Tom asked.

"I don't know, they didn't tell me their names or anything about them."

"Where did you get the gun?"

"They gave it to me, said in case I needed something to protect myself. I'm sorry I pointed it to you, I just didn't expect anyone to come here." Timothée told him.

"Why wouldn't she? This was her home too." Tom said, getting heated.

"I didn't know when or if she was coming back. They had just told me that I was engaged, not if I was single now or not. I didn't know. It's been three months." He said quietly. "Do you know who shot me?"

"No." Y/n answered, breaking out of her trance. "We need to call the detective."

"No. Please." Timothée begged. "I- they- they tortured me as a warning to not go to the police. Please. They'll come for me."

"You didn't mention being tortured when I asked about what you remembered, Timothée. And I'm sure the police will do everything they can to protect you. Don't worry." Tom told him.

"Well I didn't want to bring it up. It's kind of traumatic. And you don't know that. Please y/n. Don't call them."

Y/n hesitated and turned to give Tom a pleading look. "We won't... yet." She said, ignoring his glare.