“God!” Blaine exclaims, working open the buttons of his coat, “that Thai place was amazing!”

“It is your favorite,” Kurt says, locking the door quickly to lend his husband a hand.

“And I never knew I could love Sondheim so much.” Blaine shrugs off his coat, and Kurt carries it to the closet, to hang it up beside his own.

“Some things never change.”

“No,” Blaine says, a wistful smile trembling his lips as he unties his bowtie, “I suppose they don’t.” He sighs, looking at his reflection in the foyer mirror, the blue and white striped tie hanging from his neck, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and his own face staring back at him, hazel eyes identifying every line, every freckle. “But you’d know that better than I would.”

“Yes,” Kurt says, catching a bit of Blaine’s untimely melancholy. It’s just a mild case of the sundowner effect, Kurt reminds himself. Happens every night about this time. Just gotta keep going. “So?” Kurt clears his throat, leaving the rest of his question unasked.

He doesn’t have to finish. Blaine knows what Kurt’s asking, but he doesn’t have an answer. Not the one Kurt’s looking for. Kurt knows it, too, so he swiftly changes the subject.

“So, did you have any idea what you wanted now?” Kurt asks, removing his neckerchief and unbuttoning his shirt. “Coffee? Dessert? Maybe a sip of bourbon before bed---“

Kurt turns in time for his husband’s lips to capture his own. He breathes Blaine in at this close proximity – peppery cologne, strong espresso, and coconut liquor, tokens of their night on the town. Dinner at Song, a show at Radio City, a walk through Central Park, with Kurt recalling all the times they’d walked there before, the places they’d been, starting with the day they first met, to everything in between. And Blaine could have listened to Kurt talk forever.

It was a magical night.

A night to remember.

Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, one hand finding its way up Blaine’s neck and into his hair, the other stroking up and down his back, old paths so familiar for Kurt. They mean everything to him – comfort, love, security, home.

“Oh, Blaine,” Kurt whispers from one kiss to the next. “I missed this. It’s so nice to have it back.”

Those words seem to stop Blaine short. His lips still mid-kiss. His shoulders become rigid. Kurt feels a tear roll down his cheek, even though it’s not his own.

“Blaine?” Kurt pulls back to see his husband’s painfully confused face. “What is it, baby?”

Blaine sniffles, slowly shaking his head.

“I…I’m sorry,” he says, another tear following the first, then another after that, and Kurt reaches out to catch them all. “I’m trying. I really am, but…I still don’t remember you.”

Kurt nods, pulling his handkerchief from out his pants pocket and handing it to Blaine.

“That’s alright,” Kurt says as Blaine dabs his eyes. He puts a gentle hand to the back of Blaine’s head, careful touches feeling over the tracks of healing stitches, reminders of the gruesome injury that stole most of Blaine’s long-term memory – his ability to play the piano, his years spent at Dalton…his husband. “Do you…not want to do this?”

“No. I do, I do,” Blaine insists, rolling his head back to find the cradle of Kurt’s palm. “I know it’s not all going to come back at once. It…it may not come back at all.” Blaine swallows tears, knots, anything that will drown out his voice. “But, I want to move on with my life…with our life. I just…I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, baby,” Kurt says. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I’m not him,” Blaine says sadly. “I’m not…the man you knew. The man you married.”

“Maybe you’re not,” Kurt admits, watching, heart heavy, as Blaine’s gaze falls to the floor. “But, that’s not a bad thing, Blaine. That doesn’t mean I love you any less. Because the man you are now, the one I’ve been getting to know for the past few months, is just as funny, just as sweet, just as smart, and kind, and supportive, and compassionate. And those are the things I fell in love with.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that?” Blaine asks, keeping his eyes grounded, his mind steady, in case Kurt admits that he was wrong. “Are you sure you want this? Because, you don’t have to feel guilty if you don’t. I’ll understand.”

Blaine’s hands, hanging at his sides, begin to shake. Kurt takes them, holds them together in his.

“Blaine, that day we got your diagnosis, when the doctors gave us that big long talk about what the future might and might not hold, I promised that I’d see this marriage out with you for as long as you wanted to be a part of it. And that has nothing to do with guilt. It has everything to do with selfishness, because I love you. I love you, and I’m not saying goodbye to you. But no matter what, we’ll always be here for one another.” Kurt smiles knowingly. “You said so yourself.”

“I did?” Blaine asks, looking at Kurt through hopeful eyes.

“Yes, you did. A long time ago.” Kurt pulls his husband back into his arms and holds him tight. “We just have to take things one step at a time. And don’t worry. I’ll be right by your side for all of them.”