ONE WEEK LATER
Harry is helping me pack.
I don’t recognize most of the stuff in the closet—it’s all designer outfits that don’t feel like me. My inclination is to leave it all behind. We’ve got plenty of money in my bank account. I can buy clothing and anything I need when we arrive at our destination.
We’re leaving tomorrow morning. I can’t wait.
“You should bring a few things,” Harry points out. “I mean, you don’t want to wake up tomorrow and have nothing to wear.”
I don’t care if I wake up tomorrow and have nothing to wear. As long as I remember yesterday. This morning when I woke up next to Harry, I could still remember the day before. And the day before that. My memories are still patchy, but they’re all coming back to me little by little, like a jigsaw puzzle falling into place.
“I’m not worried,” I say.
I rifle through the top drawer of my dresser. I tossed that cracked photograph of me and Graham on our wedding day into the garbage a week ago. I never want to look at his smug face again.
Of course, it’s unlikely I’ll get my wish. Graham might not be inheriting my company, but I will definitely see him again since I’m pressing charges against him for embezzlement. He’s out on bail right now. And obviously, I have filed for divorce. All of this means we may have to cut our trip short. But that’s okay. It’s worth it to make sure he gets what he deserves.
In the meantime, Harry and I are going to enjoy ourselves. Tomorrow morning, we’re hopping on a plane to someplace warm. With lots of beaches.
Harry grins at me and holds up a flowered bikini top to his chest. “This one is great.”
I return the grin. “That would look so sexy on you.” “I was thinking exactly the same thing.”
I yank the bikini top away from him and he grabs my hand. He pulls me closer until his lips press against mine. For the last week, we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other—we are making up for lost time. I cling to him, feeling the heat of his body, not wanting to let go. Even to finish packing.
When the memory of catching Lucy with Harry came back to me, Lucy confessed Graham had put her up to it. There was no affair. Harry never came on to her. It was all staged so I would break off my engagement with Harry, and Graham would have a shot with me. I will never forgive Lucy for that one. But she’s trying. She’s even going to be testifying against Graham. And she’s offered to look after Ziggy for a few weeks until I get back from my trip with Harry.
All those years I was with the wrong guy—I was with a man who lied and cheated and stole from me. I’m so stupid. How could I have believed Harry would ever cheat on me? He has been nothing but devoted.
So much wasted time—I’m filled with regret. It makes me even more determined not to waste another moment of the time I have left.
When our lips finally separate, I’m almost floating. But then out of nowhere, a wave of sadness hits me. Despite the anti-depressant pills I started taking again, it’s been difficult to accept my situation. I’m not going to have the happy ending I dreamed of. It’s off the table for me.
“You know,” I say, “I saw what happened to my mother. I might have six months left, but it doesn’t mean those six
months are all going to be good.”
The smile drops off Harry’s face. “Look, you know I think we should try to get another opinion. Maybe there’s a doctor who could—”
“No.” I give him a sharp look. “I don’t want that.”
If I only have six months left, I want to enjoy the six months. I don’t want to spend it getting chemotherapy. I don’t want to spend it throwing up with my hair falling out. And I definitely don’t want to spend it in the hospital with needles sticking out of my arm.
I want to enjoy it on a beach with the love of my life, sipping margaritas. As long as I can.
“It’s your decision, Tess,” Harry says quietly. “Whatever you want, I’ll support you.”
“Right, but…” I shake my head. “You need to know what’s coming. The end… It could get bad.”
“I know.” “Really bad.”
“I know. And I’ll be there.”
“I don’t think you really know…”
Harry grabs my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “I never thought I was going to get you back. Whatever happens from now on, I’m going to be there. I’m going to make the time we have together the best time of your life. No matter what.”
He kisses me again. At this moment, I don’t feel like I’m dying. I feel happy. I’m so glad I get to spend this time with him. I’m so glad I found him a month ago.
When he pulls away, I trace my finger along the curve of his collarbone. “I wonder why I did it.”
“Did what?”
“Why I found you.” I raise my eyes to meet his. “After all that time, why did I suddenly start looking for you a month ago?”
A lot of my memories have come back to me, but not that one. There was a reason I started looking for him. I had
been living this way for over a year, but all of a sudden, one day I decided to find Harry. Why?
The memory is there. Just beneath the surface. Sometimes I almost feel like I could catch it, but then it escapes me.
“Does it matter?” he asks. “We found each other again. That asshole Graham is out of your life. That’s all that’s important.”
He’s right, of course. But it still bothers me. There must’ve been a reason I tried to find Harry. It’s there, buried somewhere in the recesses of my tumor-ridden brain. Will I ever remember? I don’t know. As I get sicker, the memories may fade altogether.
I may never know why I decided to reach out to Harry. But I’m glad I did.
