Maybe she was overthinking it, but the last part of the offering seemed forced. As if to appease her. It could have been a natural heightened sense from having amnesia, but she paid very close attention to every word she heard, continuously searching for either a trigger or new information.
Liz needed more proof. She ran back down to the den and aggressively searched between each precisely lined up album filled with what felt like someone else’s memories.
“Finding everything you need?” Matt’s voice sounded from the entryway to the den.
She jumped back, pulling her hand to her chest and found him leaning against the doorstop.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said flatly, stepping into the room.
What did he expect? She stepped back quickly as if she was caught going through someone’s personal belongings.
“No, its fine. I was just flipping through some books.” She turned away and faced the bookshelves, realigning the books to the way they were. For some reason, he was making her uneasy. She suddenly felt him come up behind her, but she didn’t turn around. His arm circled around her to tug on the book she didn’t realize she was still gripping and pushed it lightly back into place. She turned to look up at him.
“I think I know the one you’re looking for,” he said after a moment. “Come with me.”
Back in the upstairs bedroom, Matt pulled out a small, blue glass box.
“I forgot to give these to you when we came home last night.” He pulled out a silver band and a teardrop diamond engagement ring. “They gave them to me at the hospital as part of your valuable belongings.”
Liz stared at the shiny items her husband held out for her.
Matt gently placed them back in the box. “I’ll just keep them here for you.” He pulled out an oversized glossy photo book that was stored in the top drawer of the mirrored dresser. He walked over to the loveseat and motioned for her to sit beside him.
After a few pages of stunning and carefully posed images of the two of them on their wedding day, her husband looked at her with hopeful eyes and that only frustrated her more. She shut the book abruptly and pushed it away.
Matt leaned further back onto the seat and watched her, patiently. Almost as if he had been expecting this reaction.
“I’m sorry, I…I feel like…a stranger who is keeping your wife locked up somewhere and insisting on living her life. And this is so unfair to you…to have to go through every detail with me...” She supposed she was waiting for him to object to everything she was saying. But she got nothing.
His silence was now deafening her. She was sure he was listening, but he wasn’t responding. In fact, for a man filled with so much emotion and love for her, he appeared unaffected.
He pulled himself off the cushioned chair and stood. Liz looked up and watched him as he took slow undeliberate steps around the white rustic table in front of them. He seemed to think for a minute, his expression slightly conflicted. He finally approached her slowly, kneeled beside her and took her hands. His felt so warm.
“Liz. You are not a stranger to me. You are my wife.”
Stating facts. Not exactly reassuring.
He glanced down at her cold hands. Rubbing them slightly. “We’re going to make this right,” he breathed. “I promise.”
* * *
That night Liz laid in bed. Not because her head hurt, or because she was uncomfortable with her accommodations. But the unshakable feeling that something wasn’t right.
While she was looking at the carefully arranged photo albums in the den earlier that day, she witnessed their time together from younger years in grad school, up to probably just less than a year ago. They looked happy together, photos of them laughing and dancing, romantic vacations, nights out with friends. They seemed like a fun pair. And desperately in love, she could tell by the way he looked at her in most of those photos. She smiled to herself, remembering some of her favorites, and then all at once, burst into uncontrollable tears. Because nowhere in the pictures, did she witness a similar persona of the man that’s been caring for her since she woke up from her accident.
Chapter 15
MATT
Matt splashed cold water on his face for the fifth time that morning in the guest bathroom. He was almost ashamed to say he had a rough night. It took everything in him not to run into the bedroom the night before when he heard Lizzy sobbing. He had stood and paced, fighting with himself. When he finally made it to their bedroom door, it appeared as though she had finally fallen asleep. He hated letting her cry herself to sleep like that.
But what was he supposed to do? March in there, pull her into his arms and hold her until she felt safe? How was he to justify not kissing her or sleeping in the same bed? It wasn’t right on so many levels to lead her on like that.
Was it?
Just before her accident, Matt thought he’d made a solid decision on where they stood in their marriage. He needed to cool off and think things through, rationally. The night after their argument, he had given moving out serious consideration. Liz might have been right. The lie. The deceptive, cruel and humiliating lie was unforgivable. Could he kiss an innocent woman and deceive her just the same? What would be the difference? No. He convinced himself he couldn’t do it. Not until Liz was back from wherever she went.
Who knew how long that could be.
