I checked on Rabbit. She had obviously cried herself to sleep. I stood looking down on her, dreading what was about to happen, knowing I was about to lose her. Bear was right beside her, his paw on her leg. He regarded me sadly, as if he also knew what we were about to lose. I pulled the blanket up around Rabbit and lightly kissed her forehead. I pulled the door closed, hoping I could make it through the meeting with Trevor and Cecilia before she woke up.
“Can it be done?” I asked Trevor. “Will it work?”
He looked at me, nodding. “You’ve thought it all out very well, Joshua. And Daniel has agreed to help.”
Cecilia spoke up. “Are you sure, Joshua?”
I shrugged wearily. “What choice do I have, Cecilia? Keep her here; always worrying that she’d be happier there? Wondering if one day she will suddenly remember her other life and then leave? I can’t even ask her to choose because right now she’ll choose wrong. She’ll choose safe. I have to be the one to make the decision.”
“How are you going to tell her?”
“Honestly. She deserves that. And, doing this will make sure she is above question. Nothing will stand in the way of going back to her real life.”
“What if it’s not what she wants?” Trevor’s voice was soft when he spoke up.
I shook my head. “How can I ask her that? She doesn’t know what she wants, Trevor. She still can’t remember. Right now she only knows me. I think when she is back in familiar surroundings she’ll settle into her life and her memory will come back.”
I looked down. “Then I’ll just be the distant memory.”
I heard Cecilia’s sharp intake of breath.
“What if she remembers and she wants to choose differently?” Trevor asked.
I looked up. “I can’t live with that hope, Trevor. Because, when it doesn’t happen, it will crush me. I have nothing to offer her here. Just a life of hiding from the world. He has everything. She had a life. What looks like a full, busy life. I can’t keep her from that because of how it will affect me. There’s really no choice here. I’m damned either way. But this … this is the best for her.”
I turned to Cecilia. “Can you set up that number? Just as I asked? Fast?”
She nodded.
“How long will it take for you to set up the paperwork trail, Trevor?”
He stood up. “I know this is hard, Joshua, but I agree, it is the right thing to do. I’ll call Daniel now. I’m sure it can be done quickly.” He went downstairs and I heard the door opening and closing beside him.
Cecilia sat quietly. “I wish I hadn’t seen the news last night.”
I shook my head. “It was bound to happen eventually. I knew that. Better now than a few more weeks. The longer she was here, the harder it would be to let go.”
Her head tilted as she stared pointedly at me. “And it’s not hard now, Joshua?”
For one moment I allowed the pain out. My voice was rough.
“It’s fucking killing me, Cecilia.”
I heard Rabbit’s soft footsteps coming down the hall. I braced myself for the conversation we were about to have. She came in silently and sat down beside me. I turned to her, wincing at the sight of her ravaged features.
“I made some sandwiches,” I offered, not sure where to start.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry right now.”
I nodded. I wasn’t either.
“I heard voices earlier. Was Cecilia here?”
I nodded. “And Trevor,” I added.
“Why?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
I faced her and reached for her hand. I could feel the tremor in it as she stared at me.
“He is helping me set up some things, so you can go home … Elizabeth.”
Her hand tightened in mine.
“Rabbit. I’m Rabbit,” she protested.
I shook my head. “No, your name is Elizabeth. And soon, you’re going home to your husband.”
She pulled her hand away. “What am I going to do—just show up and say ‘oh, sorry, I forgot about you and I’ve been sleeping with someone else. But I’m back so let’s carry on?’ Is that what I’m supposed to do, Joshua? Pretend you didn’t happen? That we didn’t happen?”
I looked at her. “Exactly. Listen to me, Elizabeth. I don’t exist. When you leave here, it has to be as if we never happened. Do you understand me? You weren’t here.”
She stared at me. “Where was I then, Joshua? I’m pretty sure someone is going to ask me that.”
“You were found by someone the night of the storm, by a care worker at a small, private care home. They have been looking after you. You’ve had amnesia, and with the aftermath of the storm, they only just saw the news article about you and contacted the authorities. They were without power or phone lines and were unable to contact the police when they first found you.”
She shook her head. “But, I wasn’t. I was here.”
“It will all be documented. Unquestionably. There will be nothing leading you here.”