At the very least, it would require quite a lot of wine.
Graham doesn’t say anything else on the topic, and I’m grateful. Instead, he tells me about our honeymoon in Aruba. (Apparently, I got my wish of going someplace hot with lots of beaches.) He tells me about how when we got home from our honeymoon, our luggage was lost and the basement of the house was flooded. I assume he must’ve told me these stories at least a dozen times in the last year, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
After another hour, he glances down at his watch. “We better get back home. I still have work to do, but I can do it from my office upstairs.”
“Oh. Sorry to keep you from your work.”
He grins at me. “Well, it’s your company. I’m just stepping in until…”
Until my brain injury heals. Which—let’s face it—will be never. I’m just glad I’ve got Graham to keep my company from falling apart. I might not remember my husband, but it’s pretty clear I’m lucky to have him.
Chapter 14
We walk Ziggy back to the house. I’m holding Ziggy’s leash with one hand, and part of me wonders if I should reach out and take Graham’s hand with my other one. It would make him happy, but I just can’t make myself do it. Graham seems like a nice enough guy, but I still can’t quite think of him as my husband. Even though I’m trying.
When we get home, a buzzing noise startles me. It takes me a second to realize my phone is ringing.
Could it be Harry?
No, it couldn’t be. That whole thing with Harry this morning was just a delusion manufactured by my damaged brain. That phone number scrawled on my arm didn’t work. And according to Camila, he doesn’t even live in the area anymore. He’s got a whole new family now. Why would he be sending me text messages?
Graham turns to look at me. “Is that your phone buzzing?”
“Um…” I put my hand on my pocket, nervous to take my phone out in front of him. “Is it?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
“Should I?”
“Yes? I would imagine so?”
I take my phone out of my pocket, fully expecting to see that same number flashing on the screen. But instead, there’s a name on the screen. “It’s Lucy!”
Graham grins at me. “Great. I’m going to go upstairs and get some work done. Why don’t you talk to Lucy?”
As my husband mounts the staircase, I click the green button to accept the call. A second later, a familiar worried voice comes on the other line: “Tess? Are you okay?”
It’s the first familiar voice I’ve heard the entire day. It’s an effort to keep from bursting into tears. “Lucy!” I sink onto our extravagant leather sofa. “It’s you!”
There’s a pause on the other line and then laughter. “Yes, of course it’s me. Who else would it be?”
“I have no idea.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s been a rough day, Lucy.”
“I know, sweetie. I could tell you were having a rough morning. I was trying to find a free minute to talk to you.”
“Are you at work?” I ask. Lucy was always bouncing from job to job, never quite able to find the right fit. Most recently, she had been trying her hand at being a pharmaceutical rep.
“Unfortunately, yes. Your husband is quite the slave driver!” Then she giggles. “I’m joking! Obviously.”
My mouth falls open. “You work for My Home Spa?”
“That’s right.” Her voice grows softer. “You don’t remember?”
I don’t remember Lucy taking a job at my company. To be honest, I don’t remember her being particularly supportive of the entire venture. When I talked about starting the company, she shook her head at me. What do you know about starting a business? When I explained Harry was going to be helping me, she was even less enthusiastic—Lucy was not the biggest fan of Harry Finch. It just seems like this might end up being a big mistake, Tess.
“I guess not,” I mumble.
“Oh, Tess,” she sighs. “You really are having a rough day.”
“I’m sorry I bothered you at work…”
“It’s no bother! You sounded so upset on the phone! I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And I knew it would be a comfort for you to hear my voice.”
She’s right. Lucy and I were roommates in college, then again for several years after college until I moved in with Harry. She is my closest friend in the entire world. I’m even closer to her than I am to my father, who still hasn’t returned my phone calls. Getting to talk to somebody I remember from my old life feels like a return to sanity.
“I can’t believe you work for My Home Spa.” I shake my head, thinking of all the years that have gone by since my last retrievable memory. “Lucy, are you… are you married? Do you have children?”
It feels strange to ask my best friend those questions, especially since I probably spoke to her yesterday. But I’m dying to know the answer.
“No, haven’t taken the plunge yet,” Lucy says in that flippant way of hers. “Men are just… You know how it is. Nice guys are too intimidated to approach me—they assume they don’t have a chance. So the only guys who hit on me are the smarmy jerks… or the married guys.”
She has a point. Lucy is gorgeous, but she never seems to have a boyfriend. Although Harry used to say about her, She’s not as pretty as she seems to think she is. Nobody could be.
“So what’s going on, Tess?” Lucy asks. “I’m assuming Graham filled you in on everything. You read the letter, right?”
“You know about the letter?”
“Of course I do. We thought it was better if you heard about the accident in your own words. It was an idea we came up with to help you feel more comfortable when you first woke up. Did it work?”
I chew on my lower lip. “Sort of.”
“So what was rough about the day then?”
I debate if I should tell Lucy about the text messages. I hear the words in my head and it makes me sound so crazy. I can’t even bring myself to say it.