“Tess?”
“I’m sorry, I…” I gulp for air. “I need to talk to Graham about something. I… let’s talk later.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I promise.”
I hang up the phone before Lucy can ask any other questions. My head is throbbing again. Maybe Graham was right. Maybe I do need to see a doctor and get another scan of my head. Maybe my brain started bleeding again. All I know is I can’t trust any of my memories anymore.
I close my eyes and remember that snippet I had imagined when Camila said I was having a seizure. The one that felt so real, where Graham was coming into my office to interview for a job at My Home Spa. I had thought it was a figment of my imagination, but it seems consistent with what Lucy just told me. Maybe it was an actual memory.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and run up the stairs to the second floor. I start to go to the bedroom, then I notice another door is ajar, and the light is on inside.
It’s the bedroom right next to the master bedroom. When we bought the place, Harry joked,That’s where our firstborn will sleep.Even then, we assumed we would end up together for the rest of our lives. We both wantedchildren. Two or three—we couldn’t decide.
But Graham and I don’t have any children. So what is in this room?
Before I can second guess it, I reach for the doorknob. I’m tired of my entire life being a mystery. I want answers.
Chapter 15
I nudge the door the rest of the way open. It’s an office. Graham’s office. He’s got a mahogany desk set up with a black leather chair, and a bookcase pushed up against the wall, stuffed to the brim with books and papers. He’s got a laptop on the desk, and next to it is a picture frame containing a photograph of me and Graham.
I pick up the frame. It’s the two of us on a beach somewhere. My hair is long and thick in the photograph, and my skin is several shades darker than it is now. And I look… happy. Graham’s arm is around me and we’re both grinning for the camera.
I replace the frame on the desk where I found it. The next item I pick up is a pen. I twirl it around and notice there’s gold lettering on it.My Home Spa. I test the pen on a blank piece of paper on the desk. It writes nicely—good quality.
There’s a large drawer below the desk. On an impulse,I reach for the handle of the drawer and try to pull it open. It doesn’t budge.
It’s locked.
“Tess? What are you doing?”
I jump away from the desk at the sound of Graham’s voice. He’s standing in the doorway to his office, his light brown eyebrows bunched together, staring at me.
“I…” I wipe my hands self-consciously on my jeans. “I was just… curious.”
Graham’s blue eyes are still on me. It’s making me uncomfortable. Despite what Lucy said about him being “a good guy,” I don’t know him at all. I don’t know what he’s like. And if Lucy never lived with him, she doesn’t know either. Not really.
“It’s not your concern,” he says. “It’s work papers. Contracts.”
“Why is the drawer locked?”
He shrugs. “I don’t want anybody stealing it. There are some sensitive documents in there. Work related.”
I meet his gaze. Is he telling the truth? What’s in this drawer that he felt the need to lock it? But I have something much more pressing to ask him:
“Were you lying when you told me we met when you saved my life?”
Graham blinks at me. For a moment, I am certain he’s going to deny it, and if that happens, I don’t know what to think anymore. But then he hangs his head. “I’m sorry.”
I let out a breath. The conversation we had this morning was real. “So you lied?”
“Yes.” He pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I’msorry. I shouldn’t have. But…” He looks back up at me. Without his glasses on, the purple circles under his eyes look darker. “You don’t know what it feels like to wake up every morning and your wife is sobbing for some guy who treated her like shit.”
“Graham…”
“I’m not the hero type.” He puts his glasses back on. “I’m all Clark Kent—no Superman. But I thought there was no harm in telling you I did something heroic for you. Something that might…” A flush fills his cheeks. “Something that would make you like me better.”
