Molly frowns, concentrating. ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve never been here before. Are you sure we’re at the right place?’
‘We definitely are,’ I frown too. ‘I have this vivid sense that it’s special to us.’
Molly laughs quietly. ‘Well, this is really awkward, Leo but – you’ve never taken me here. I’ve never even been here by myself.’ I hear her sharp intake of breath, and she whispers. ‘God, Leo! I hope you’re not thinking of someone else…?’
I almost panic at that thought, and I can see from the way Molly’s face contorts that she’s panicking about it too. I try to calm myself with two reassurances. This feeling is definitely related to Molly, I’m sure of it. And I wouldn’t have cheated on her, I know that – I can’t even stomach the idea of it. But it doesn’t matter how confident I am about those feelings – I still have no idea what I was thinking the last time I was here.
‘It’s definitely something to do with you,’ I say, and I’m so frustrated at my own inability to join the dots that I groan and rub my temples. ‘I’m sure something important happened here. Can we go in?’
‘I’m a little nervous, but sure,’ Molly gives a weak laugh. Inside we take a seat at one of the low tables placed around the room. I look at the drinks menu and I know that I’ve read it before. Molly is looking around the room.
‘Familiar now?’ I prompt hopefully. She shakes her head and gives me a bewildered shrug.
‘I can say with absolute certainty I have never been here before in my life.’
I realise in an instant that she’s actually right; I wasn’t here with her – I was here without her. I still can’t remember why I was in this bar, but I understand now that the reason this place came to mind was because of how far away she felt while I was here. I was missing her so deeply on that last visit that I could almost taste it… but the missing was all messed up with an overwhelming sense of guilt.
This is the first time I’ve had the emotional part of a memory return so strongly without any of the context, and even that odd fact seems to suggest that I might not want to remember the details.
‘Remembering anything?’ Molly asks, and I shake my head stiffly and lie.
‘Not yet.’
I see her hesitation and now we are both wondering if I was having an affair again. I don’t know what to say to her. I still feel certain that I wouldn’t have been unfaithful to her – it doesn’t seem to make any sense. But I can’t deny the rock-hard pit of guilt that still lingers in my stomach. Whatever happened in this bar, it wasn’t something that I was sure about – or even something I was proud of.
I sigh and reach for her hand. ‘Well, this is a really pathetic first date.’
‘First date, huh?’
‘Oh yes. The plan was to romance you.’
‘Did you forget that we’re married again?’ she teases. I am still unsettled by the things that I don’t know, but I love the glint in her eyes anyway. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it gently.
‘Not this time,’ I tell her. ‘But I’d really like to stay married, so I thought perhaps I should put some effort in.’
Molly’s smile fades a little, but she doesn’t withdraw her hand from mine.
‘Do you know what this reminds me of?’ Molly asks me, as we’re finishing our meal. I glance at her cautiously, and she surprises me with a contented smile. ‘When we were first married, in that first year, you weren’t travelling much. I’m such a shit cook that when it was my turn to “cook dinner” I usually convinced you to come out somewhere and we’d sit in all kinds of restaurants and chat about absolutely nothing. And it was magical.’
‘And it was easy,’ I say. I don’t remember all of the nights she’s talking about yet, but I know the simple contentment they brought us.
‘It was easy,’ she echoes. ‘Just like this. So, thank you.’
‘What are your favourite memories from our marriage, Molly? That first year was good, was it?’
‘Oh yes,’ she says, and she hangs onto the ‘s’ in the word a little too long, as if she doesn’t even want to let the thought go. ‘That year was a dream, we were so happy.’
‘What were the best moments?’
‘The simple ones. Moments like those long, lazy dinners out – and when we sat up too late drinking wine on the balcony off the bedroom when the jacarandas were in bloom. And when you washed up by hand, before we got the dishwasher, and I’d come up to you…’
‘And wrap your arms around my waist, and rest your cheek against my back,’ I murmured, and she nods and reaches across the table to rest her hand over mine. We share a smile, and in one moment, I fall completely in love with her, all over again. She’s perfection – and she’s my perfection.