Do You Remember

“He… he grabbed you…?”

I’m having a hard time even imagining it. Harry was always so shy when it came to that sort of stuff. I still remember the first time he kissed me. We had just had dinner together, then he walked me back to my apartment building. We stood by the entrance to the building for well over an hour, talking to each other, until finally the doorman came out and yelled, Kiss her already! She wants you to! Harry’s face had turned bright red. Do you? he asked nervously. And I nodded, because the doorman was absolutely right. I had been wanting him to kiss me all night, and when he did, every part of me down to my toenails tingled.

“You saw the whole thing, Tess,” Lucy says. “He grabbed me. Stuck his tongue down my throat. It was awful. He—”

“Stop.” I choke out the word. “Please stop. I… I get it.”

“I was scared you might not forgive me,” she says in a small voice. “But at least you saw I pushed him away and slapped him. I mean, as if I would ever be interested in Harry…”

I rub my aching right skull. Do I believe this? I guess I have to. Lucy isn’t a stranger like Graham—she’s my best friend. She wouldn’t lie to me. And anyway, it makes sense. Harry would have had to do something awful for me to end our engagement. I broke up with him. That’s a fact.

He kissed my best friend.

That bastard kissed my best friend.

My father was wrong. He was not a good man.

“Tess?”

“I’m here…”

“Look,” Lucy says, “I know it all seems fresh right now, but believe me when I say you were totally over it. You’re better off without him. Graham is great. Like, a million times better. And he doesn’t hit on me.”

I still feel sick at the thought of Harry trying to kiss Lucy. How could he do something like that to me? It turns out I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did.

A disturbing thought occurs to me. What if it wasn’t me who found Harry? What if he found out about my accident and decided it was a perfect opportunity to worm his way back into my life? And every day now he throws doubt into my head about whether my brain injury is real or not. He’s manipulating me. Torturing me. Either because he wants me back, or maybe to punish me for breaking up with him.

No, it couldn’t be. Harry wouldn’t do something like that. He’s not capable of it.

Then again, I would’ve said he wasn’t capable of cheating.

“Are you okay?” Lucy’s voice sounds far away. “Tess?”

“I’m fine,” I manage. I slide into the leather chair in front of Graham’s desk. It’s very comfortable. Like everything else in our house, it probably cost a fortune. “Lucy, is there any chance you could come here? I really want to see you.”

“I wish I could!” She groans. “Work is insane right now and I don’t know when I’m getting out of here. But tomorrow should be better. How about if I come for dinner tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. By tomorrow, I won’t even remember I invited her. But what can I do? “Sure, that sounds fine.”

“Hang in there. I promise everything is going to be okay.”

I almost laugh out loud. Everything is going to be okay? Is she joking? Nothing is okay. And I’m beginning to think nothing will ever be okay ever again.





Chapter 25


Camila cooks chicken and rice for dinner. The smell of garlic and wine sauce floats out of the kitchen until my stomach starts growling. But she says we can’t eat until Graham gets home.

It’s seven-thirty when I finally hear the front door unlock—Graham is home. I’m sitting on the couch watching television, having given up on the idea of trying to read a whole book in a single day. Maybe tomorrow.

Graham’s face breaks out in a smile when he sees me. He uses his thumb to loosen the knot of the dark blue tie that makes his eyes look so blue, even behind his glasses.

“Hey,” he says. “Have a good day?”

I look up at this man. My husband. Who may or may not be trying to drug me. “Yes.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He plops down next to me on the sofa. Ziggy has his head on my lap, and when he sees Graham, he lets out a low growl. I have to stroke his head to get him to calm down. I don’t know why my dog seems to dislike Graham so much.

“I wish you could come back to work,” Graham sighs. “It’s hard doing it alone. I’m exhausted.”

I pick at a loose thread on the seam of my jeans. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“Oh, Tess.” He smiles and shakes his head. “I wish you could. But just coming home to you at the end of a hard day makes it worth it.”

A little bullshit detector is going off in the back of my head. Coming home to me makes it worth it? How could that possibly be true? I haven’t even let Graham kiss me today. I’ve been searching his office behind his back. I called 911 on him, for God’s sake. What on earth about me makes it all worthwhile?

“Anyway.” He pats me on the shoulder. “The food smells fantastic. I’m starving.”

As if on cue, Camila emerges from the kitchen holding two heaping plates of food. Graham leaps off the couch to help her. He rescues the plates from her hands and lowers them onto the dining table. One plate for me and one plate for Graham.

“You’re not joining us?” Graham asks her.

My stomach churns at the thought of this beautiful girl joining my husband and me for dinner. Not that I feel jealous, exactly. It’s hard to feel jealous when I have no attraction whatsoever for Graham. But I don’t like the idea of him messing around behind my back.

Although it’s hard to imagine that he and I have sex much anymore. It’s not going to happen tonight, that’s for sure.

“That’s okay,” Camila says. “I’ll just get going.”

Graham’s eyes hold hers. “Come on, Camila. You should join us. Right, Tess?”

“Yes, join us,” I say tonelessly.

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