Graham comes home from work at five o’clock. Camila opens the door for him, and he’s carrying a bouquet of a dozen roses and a box of Godiva chocolates.
“Wow,” Camila comments. “Someone is in a romantic mood today.”
Graham’s blue eyes lock with mine. “It’s been a hard week, and I wanted to do something nice for Tess.”
I rise from the sofa, thinking of my phone stuffed under one of the cushions. It’s on silent, so it won’t ring or buzz to give me away. I was careful who I called today. I didn’t contact Lucy. But I found my father’s number programmed into the phone, and I tried calling him. There was no answer, but I left a message.
“Thank you,” I say stiffly. “The roses are beautiful.”
“If you’d like,” he says, “we can go out to dinner.
Anywhere you want.”
The thought of going out to a restaurant with this man makes me physically ill, but I can’t let on. “Maybe.”
He looks me up and down in my jeans and sweatshirt. “You’d have to change though. Obviously.” He squints at my face. “And put on some makeup.”
I turn my head so I don’t have to look at him. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“I’ll put those beautiful roses in some water,” Camila says helpfully.
She takes the roses out of Graham’s hands, but he is still staring at me. “Don’t you want the chocolates?”
I take them from him. I open the box and it’s filled with white chocolate truffles. My favorite.
“Your favorite, right?” He pushes his glasses up his nose. “Did I do good?”
I nod slowly. “Thank you. It’s very nice of you.”
“Well, you are my wife.” One corner of his lips quirks up. “I wanted to do something nice for you.”
He has a nice smile. He’s attractive. It would be easy to believe his lies if I hadn’t found that phone this morning.
“Listen.” He leans closer to me so that I catch a whiff of his expensive cologne. “I’ve got to get a little more work done in my office upstairs. But let’s plan on going out tonight, okay? We’ll have a nice time. Anywhere you want to go.”
“Okay,” I hear myself saying. “That sounds great.”
Graham leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. It’s all I can do to keep from jerking away from him.
I watch my husband disappear up the stairs. My shoulders don’t relax until the door to his office slams shut.
“Well, that was nice of him, wasn’t it?” Camila returns to the room carrying a large glass vase containing the roses. “I wish I had a man coming home for me with flowers and candy.”
“You don’t wish you had my life,” I snort. It came out more bitterly than I intended.
Camila stops, just looking at me. It almost seems like she wants to tell me something, but she’s not sure if she should.
“What?” I finally say.
“Nothing.” She clears her throat. “I have to head out now. But I hope you two have a nice time at dinner.”
“Thanks.”
She hesitates. “And make sure to put Ziggy outside before Graham comes back down. You know how he feels about the dog.”
That’s right. For reasons I don’t understand, Graham doesn’t seem to like Ziggy much. I have a horrible feeling that one of these days, Ziggy might simply disappear during the night and I’ll never know he even existed. Much like my phone.
Camila heads out, leaving me behind. I don’t know much about her, but unlike me, she has a life outside of this house. I envy her that more than I envy her incredible beauty. I miss being able to leave the house on my own. I miss driving. I miss going to work every day. And I’m beginning to be scared I will never experience any of these things ever again.
Graham has disappeared into his office and the door is closed. I plop down on the sofa, trying to figure out what to do next. Before I can figure it out, I get this strange sensation in my head. A fuzzy sensation, almost like I’m drifting off to sleep. The entire room melts away to white. And when I blink again, I’m outside the door to a room, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
My hand drops onto the doorknob and I twist the knob. The room is an office at My Home Spa, with large windows in the back, a mahogany desk, and a leather chair. Sitting in the leather chair is my husband Graham. And sitting on Graham is his secretary. At the sound of the door being yanked open, she scrambles off his lap. But it’s too late.
“Tess,” Graham gasps, as he attempts to wipe Taylor’s lipstick off his mouth. If she’s going to be making out with my husband, she should wear lipstick that doesn’t rub off on him so easily. “Christ, Tess, I didn’t realize you were—”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t realize I work here? At my own company?”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Thurman.” Taylor anxiously tugs at the hem of her skirt, which has ridden way up during whatever it was she was doing with Graham. “I… I didn’t mean to…”
“Don’t worry about it.” I wave a hand at her. “Also, you’re fired, Taylor. Clean out your desk right now.”
Immediately, Graham’s twenty-two-year-old secretary’s eyes fill with tears. “But, Mrs. Thurman—”
“Get out now.” I give her a look that is not to be argued with. “You’ve got twenty minutes and then I call security.”
I hear the words come out of my mouth, but it’s like I’m not in control of them. It’s like this scene playing out before me has already happened, and I’m simply reliving it. Which makes me impressed by how badass I am.
Taylor hurries out of the office, tears streaming down her cheeks. Once she’s gone, I set my gaze back on Graham, who looks distinctly pale. He is redoing the top button on his shirt and straightening out his tie. It occurs to me that if I had to come to this office just a few minutes later, I could have ended up getting quite the show.
“It isn’t how it looked, Tess,” he says. “I swear to you.”
A jab of pain hits me in the right temple. “You mean you making out with your secretary in your office?”
“Um…”
“Don’t worry, Graham. I don’t care about that.” His brow crinkles. “You…”
I shrug. “We haven’t had sex in six months. It’s not like it’s a huge shock that you’re messing around behind my back.”
Now he looks perplexed. And for a moment, I enjoy it. I enjoy the split second of anticipation before I drop the bomb on him. He thought he could pull one over on me. Does he think I’m stupid?
“I found the bank account,” I tell him. “The Caribbean one. I found out what you’ve been up to, Graham. You piece of shit.”
His mouth falls open. “Tess…”
“I want you out of here.” I put my hands on my hips. “I want you to pack up your desk and get out of my company.” “Come on, Tess.” He holds his hands out to me. “You don’t want to do that. I’ve been with this company for over six years. You’re never going to find a better accountant
than me.”
A better accountant than him? Is he joking? Anyone would be better! At least, anyone who isn’t stealing money
from me. I get another jab of pain in my temple—time to wrap this up.
“I’ve locked you out of all the computers,” I say briskly. “I alerted security, and if you’re not gone in the next half hour, they’re throwing you out.”
It finally hits him that I’m serious. “Tess. Please…”
“I also want you out of my house.” I feel the sneer on my lips. “I had Jeanne pack up your bags and I left them on the front porch.”
He sucks in a breath. “Tess…”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “You’re lucky I didn’t burn your crap. I never want to look at you ever again. You’re going to hear from my lawyers shortly. If you don’t sign the divorce papers immediately, I’m calling the police and pressing charges.”
All the color has drained from Graham’s face. “Please don’t do this, Tess. Look, this was all a misunderstanding.”
It takes all my self-restraint not to laugh in his face. “I’ve got a meeting downtown right now. When I get back, you better be gone.”
I don’t wait for a response. I’ve said everything I have to say. It feels awful enough to know that my own husband did this to me. And if I hadn’t hired a second accountant, I might never have known. He might have kept siphoning money out of the company as my punishment for making him sign that prenup. And when he got enough money in the account, then what? Would he have saved it as a nest egg just in case, or would he have up and left me for somebody like Taylor?
Luckily, I’ll never get to know.
I’m already running late for my meeting. I take the elevator down to the parking garage, and the valet brings me my Toyota. I was never interested in getting a sports car like Graham has. But maybe now I’ll treat myself to something better. Something fast and cute.
Although the Toyota goes plenty fast.
The streets are relatively empty, so I accelerate as much as I dare. That nagging pain in my temple flares up one more time, and I remind myself that pretty soon, Graham will be out of my life forever. One headache out of the way.
I press my foot down on the gas and the car leaps forward. Vaguely, I’m aware that I should slow down. But I don’t want to. I press the button to lower the windows and it feels so good to have the wind whipping at my face as the scenery zips by. Graham is going to be gone. That asshole will be out of my life. Thank God.
As my foot descends onto the gas, the windshield disappears from my view. And then everything turns white again. A second later, I’m back in my living room again. Sitting on my sofa.
For a moment, I just sit there shaking. I don’t know what that was, but something tells me that what I just experienced was the memory of something that really happened to me. I discovered Graham had been stealing money from my company (and not to mention cheating on me). And then I tried to leave him. Except…
Was that when it happened? Was that when I got in the car accident that destroyed my brain?
As quietly as I can, I dig my phone out from underneath the couch cushion and stare at the screen. I need to talk to Harry. I need to tell him what I remember. Except there are no other replies from Harry. He has truly decided to leave me alone.
Tomorrow, I won’t remember any of this. I won’t remember my flashback about what Graham did to me before my accident. I won’t remember what a liar he is. I won’t even remember that Harry contacted me. I’ll wake up in the morning next to Graham, and it will be like this day never happened. I’ll read that letter I wrote to myself and think this is my life. Maybe Graham will let me have my phone or maybe he won’t. But there will be nothing else.
The thought of it is like a hand squeezing my heart. I’ve got to do something.
I run into the kitchen and grab the pen on the kitchen island. I don’t know how much time I have before Graham comes back downstairs. I take the pen with me into the downstairs bathroom and close the door behind me. There’s no lock.
I pull down my pants. On the inside of my right thigh, as high up as I can manage, I write the words:
Find Harry.
Then I write the phone number I have for him underneath.
I’m taking a chance. It’s possible Graham could spy the words I wrote on myself. Or the writing could wash away before I have a chance to see it. But I’m hoping it won’t. I’m hoping this will be a way to help me remember.
I pull up my pants and come out of the bathroom. Ziggy is waiting for me outside, panting excitedly. At least he’s happy.
I rub his head. “What’s up, boy?”
And then I see what’s in his mouth. It’s a set of keys.
Graham’s keys. The car keys and the keys to open the front door.
I can get out of here.
