“Does it really matter? He’s going to die soon. I usually find a way to sabotage things or seek out the most unavailable people. I did it with Adam without even knowing.”
“I can see why he’d be hung up on you, even with a faulty memory. You’re kind of impossible to forget. Before I even met you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
I smiled. There was enough light coming from under the door to see him smile back. Rolling onto my side, I let him spoon me. I wanted to feel like I had done something right, like I deserved Seth spooning me, like I deserved to be Adam’s muse.
But I was still conflicted. Would I always be?
* * *
THE NEXT DAY, after brunch, Seth and I headed to Stacy’s. I knocked on the door. When she opened it, Foxy Cleopatra was at her feet. I bent to pet her. “Hi, Foxy.”
When I looked up, I noticed Stacy was staring at Seth—not ogling him, just trying to figure out who the hell he was.
“Stacy, this is my friend Seth.” They shook hands.
“Would you like to come in?”
We followed Stacy and sat at a round table. Foxy wouldn’t leave me alone. Stacy handed me the letter. Seth stayed quiet.
“I haven’t read it,” she said. “But if you want to read it here, maybe I can answer some of your questions. I think he wrote it right after that night.”
I could feel Seth shift beside me.
“Okay.” I opened the letter and read it to myself.
Charlotte. I remembered your name right after you left so I wrote it down. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want to scare you away even more. I have a brain tumor. Like, the really bad kind. That’s why I seemed forgetful. My days are numbered, lady. I wasn’t joking. I wish I wouldn’t have let you go just now. Now I don’t know how to find you. Everything before you and I were in that bar is a blur, but everything after is crystal clear. Why is that? Is it because I was so enamored of you that you marked my soul and now I can’t get you out of my mind? I hope you come back, but if you don’t, I hope this letter finds you. Last night was far and away the best night of my life. I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before. It was the first time I’ve ever really been scared to die. I think because it’s the first time I’ve ever really wanted to live. I felt like we had known each other forever. I felt something I didn’t think I would feel in this life: love. Like that crazy, passionate shit everyone talks about. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. I know it seems crazy but when you made up that story, at first I believed it and I was confused because it seemed so real, like a memory. And then I realized it wasn’t true. I wasn’t mad at you for lying, I was sad that I hadn’t met you sooner. I was sad that it wasn’t real and that I didn’t have enough time on this earth to love you well. You lit up my night . . . my fucking life, Charlotte. I don’t remember wanting to touch anyone so badly. I would have stayed in this loft with you until the very end, if you would have agreed. I wish I would have asked you.
I’m writing because I wanted you to know that when people talk about “the one,” you were my “one.” Is that crazy? I know I’m not that for you because you have your whole life ahead of you and we only spent one night together, but I still had to tell you. Please find a nice guy who doesn’t give you crap about your toes. They’re the most adorable little sausages I’ve ever seen.
If you’re reading this, then I guess I’ll see you on the other side. Love, Adam.
He thought he would be dead before I read this.
It’s fair to say that by the time I finished reading the letter, I was a blubbering fool. I was hysterical and hyperventilating. It brought Adam back to me, his spontaneity and humor and the way I, too, felt like I had known him my whole life. Seth was rocking me, making soothing sounds and rubbing my arms up and down. Tears were spilling onto the letter, soaking the words.
I crumpled into a ball in Seth’s arms, and he held me as I cried myself to exhaustion.
“I need to go home,” I said.
“Aren’t you going to see him?” Stacy seemed irritated.
“Yes, but I can’t today.”
“He doesn’t—”
“I know, he doesn’t have much time left. I will see him tomorrow if it’s the last thing I do.”
Stacy was still shaking her head when Seth and I left the apartment. He carried me effortlessly up the stairs to my place and laid me down in my bed.
Some time later, I woke up to Seth setting a glass of water on my nightstand. When I opened my eyes and looked up at him, he sat on the edge of my bed and brushed my hair back from my face.
“Hey,” he said, his voice low and gentle.
“Hey.”
“I gotta get going.”
“I know.” I glanced behind him to the clock. It was ten p.m. I had slept for three hours after an hour-long sobbing fit. There was a big part of me that wanted to tell Seth that he should move on and forget about us. That he should focus on baseball and his career, instead of sitting here consoling me. But as I looked up into his sincere eyes, his solicitous smile, I saw understanding and a man who cared about me.
“You need to see him, Charlotte.”
I nodded.
“If for nothing else, thank him for the mural, but I think there’s more to this than that.”
“I know.” If I went to see Adam, Seth knew there was no way I could just thank him, walk away, and say, Have a nice death.
“I’ll be on the road for nine days, and when I come back, this will all be a distant memory, right? You’ll see him, and then we can move on with our lives?”
I wondered if it would be that easy. I sniffled and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Seth laughed and then bent and kissed the top of my head.
“Yes, I think so,” I said, though I wasn’t sure at all.
“I know we haven’t known each other that long but I’d like to continue dating you.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “So . . . I need to be sure you know the game plan before I leave.”
Of course he does. A flash-forward of Seth coaching our little kid’s baseball team flitted through my consciousness. I should have felt good about that, but I was a mess of emotions. I sat up against my pillows. Even though the light from the hallway was illuminating the room enough for Seth and me to see each other’s faces, I clicked on the bedside lamp as well, just to make it that much more real.
“Okay,” I began, my voice shaking. “Tomorrow you’re going to Cleveland and I’m going to see Adam in the hospital.”
He nodded once, encouraging me to continue, so I did.
“You’ll be gone for nine days, and when you come back, we’ll get together and talk about things between us.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Huh?” Where is this going?
“In nine days, I’ll come back and we’ll pick up where we left off in that hotel room.”
I was quiet for way too long. His expression dropped.
“Okay,” I said finally.
He leaned in, pecked me on the lips, and then stood up. I watched with no emotion as he walked out of my room. Just before he left the apartment, he called out, “Lock the door, Charlie.”
He called me Charlie. Am I going to break his heart?
17. Why We Remember