I consider asking him later, but the answer would probably be depressing. Anyway, it’s the least of my problems right now. This situation would be so much more complicated if I had a small child to take care of right now. Or if I woke up six months pregnant. I clutch my abdomen protectively at the thought of it.
I try the doorknob to the next room over. Again, it turns easily in my hand. I push the door open, revealing a room containing a small loveseat, a tall bookcase littered with hard covers and loose papers, and as promised, there’s a mahogany desk in the corner of the room.
I have found Graham’s office.
I approach the desk. Right next to his laptop is a framed photo of the two of us. We’re on vacation, on the beach, looking tanned and happy. It’s… sweet. He wants to be reminded of our relationship while he’s working. The whole thing doesn’t quite make sense. I’m not in love with Graham because I just met the guy this morning, but he genuinely does not seem like an evil person. He seems nice. He’s stepped up and kept my company afloat when I obviously can’t. He’s been taking care of me when he would be justified shutting me away in some sort of nursing home. He even made me breakfast this morning, even though it was horribly burned, and also, I was too scared to eat it.
Is it possible that Graham isn’t drugging me? That somehow I got it all wrong, and I dragged Harry into my delusion?
I look down at the desk drawers. I pull them open one by one. They all open easily and are filled with papers related to my company. Until I get to the last drawer, which is locked.
I rattle the drawer, listening for the sound of pills shaking. I don’t hear anything like that.
I wonder what made me think there was something important in this drawer. Was it just the fact that it’s locked?
I go through the other drawers again, this time looking for a key. I’m sure Graham keeps the key on his key ring, but I bet he’s got a spare. Graham seems like the sort of guy who always has a spare key.
When my phone rings, I nearly jump out of my skin. I fumble to pull it out of my pocket, terrified it’s Graham, and he knows what I’m doing. But it’s not Graham.
It’s Lucy.
Chapter 24
“Lucy!” I squeal into the phone. “Oh, thank God!”
“Tess.” The sound of her familiar voice brings tears to my eyes. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Am I okay? Is she seriously asking me that? “Well I can’t remember anything that happened before yesterday, so not really…”
Lucy sighs—a long, sad exhalation of breath. “I know. I… I’m so sorry.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s horrible, Lucy. I feel like I’m stuck in a nightmare.”
“Honestly, you’re not usually like this.” She sounds genuinely perplexed. “You used to be a little scared in the morning, but by the afternoon, you always seemed okay. It’s just this last month you seem to freak out every day.”
A month. That’s when Harry said I first contacted him. What happened one month ago that prompted this?
“Did anything happen to you today?” she presses me. “Something that upset you?”
I chew on my lip. I desperately want to tell her everything that happened to me today. About the note I left for myself on my thigh. About meeting Harry at the dog park. Lucy is my best friend, and if I can’t trust her, who can I trust? Apart from her, there are apparently only three other people regularly in my life. And my father hasn’t returned my call.
But Harry warned me. He was emphatic. Don’t tell Lucy.
“Nothing happened today,” I finally say. “It’s just hard to wrap my head around… everything.”
“I know. I don’t know how you do it every day. I don’t think I could. I would, like, have killed myself or something.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”
“I know,” she says. “But God, it must be so hard for you. Not recognizing Graham all the time. Not being able to go anywhere without Camila having to tag along. Not being able to work or be a productive member of society. You are honestly a superstar for getting through it.”
I don’t feel like a superstar, that’s for sure. And everything Lucy is saying is only making me feel worse. “Listen, can I ask you something?”
“Of course! Anything.”
“Why did I break up with Harry?”
Lucy is quiet on the other line. She said I could ask her anything, but it’s clear she wishes I hadn’t asked her that. “I don’t know.”
“Lucy…”
She lets out a huff. “Tess, it happened ages ago. Why do you even want to know?”
“Because the last thing I remember is being engaged to Harry. I miss him.” Against my will, my eyes fill with tears. God, I miss him. If only he were here with me, I could deal with this memory loss. “Please tell me what happened. If you care about me at all, you have to tell me. Please. I have to know.”
“Are… are you sure you want to know this?”
“Yes,” I say, even though I’m not sure I do. I don’t want to know, but I need to know. I need to know if I can trust Harry Finch. I need to know what awful thing he did that made me return the ring to the man I loved.
She lowers her voice several notches. “Harry… he… he grabbed me and tried to kiss me.”
I almost drop the phone. What is she talking about? Harry would never do that. He never even looked at other women—and especially not Lucy. He didn’t even like Lucy! How could he do something like that?
“He tried to kiss you?” I repeat incredulously. “Are you sure you have that right?”
“I’m so sorry, Tess.” Her voice cracks. “I feel awful about it. You… you saw the whole thing. He did it in the living room and you walked in right as I pushed him away and slapped him across the face.”
“But he didn’t even like you!” I burst out. “I mean, he was always saying that you…”
I don’t want to repeat any of the negative comments Harry made about Lucy over the years, all of which contained a small grain of truth.
“Exactly.” She snorts. “He was always trying to hit on me when you weren’t around, and he hated me for not playing along. I tried to tell you so many times, but I thought it was harmless until the day he grabbed me like that…”