He pulled out a chair but didn’t sit.
“When you woke up, you didn’t recognize me.”
“I know.”
“The doctors told us not to force memories.”
“So you pretended to be my nurse.”
“I was your nurse.”
“You know what I mean.”
Richard looked away.
“At first, I thought your memory would come back quickly.”
“And when it didn’t?”
“I waited.”
“For what?”
“For the right time.”
I shook my head.
“There was no right time because every day you waited made the lie bigger.”
He flinched.
“I was terrified.”
“Of me remembering?”
“Yes.”
“Because you cheated.”
His face changed.
“You talked to Megan.”
“Yes.”
He lowered his head.
“I made the worst mistake of my life.”
“One night?”
“One night.”
“And I found out.”
“Yes.”
“And that was why I was driving.”
Richard’s voice broke.
“Yes.”
I gripped the edge of the table.
“So when I woke up without those memories, what did you think?”
He stayed silent for so long that I nearly repeated the question.
Finally he said, “I thought I had lost you.”
“You had.”
“I know.”
“Then what?”
“I saw you lying there and realized you didn’t know what I had done.”
I stared at him.
“And that felt convenient.”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Maybe at first it did.”
The honesty of that sentence hurt more than another lie would have.
He continued.
“You were scared. You had no family. Every time you woke up, you looked completely lost. I kept thinking I would tell you when you were stronger.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“You brought me coffee.”
“Yes.”
“Oat milk. One sugar.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I already knew how you liked it.”
“The lilies.”
“You hated the smell. They gave you migraines.”
Every small kindness I had treasured rearranged itself inside my head.
None of those moments had been proof that Richard somehow understood me better than anyone.
He understood me because he had known me before.
He had simply allowed me to believe otherwise.
“You didn’t fall in love with me by noticing all those little things.”
“Claire—”
“You already knew them.”
“I did.”
“And every time I was surprised, you let me think it was new.”
He covered his face.
“I know.”
I held up my mother’s necklace.
“And this?”
Richard stared at it.
“I found it beside the car.”
