His face went still.
“No.”
“We were already together.”
“Yes.”
“We were engaged.”
He looked down.
“Yes.”
“Then explain.”
Richard slowly placed his bag down.
“At first, I was waiting for your memory to return. The doctors said not to force anything.”
I stared at him.
“Then weeks passed. You were sleeping again. You were laughing.”
His voice began to break.
“You looked at me without knowing what I had done.”
“So you decided I was better off not knowing.”
“I told myself I was protecting you.”
“No.”
I picked up the necklace.
“You were protecting yourself.”
Richard looked at it.
“I found it beside your car.”
“You knew it was mine.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you return it?”
His eyes dropped.
“Because you remembered wearing it that night.”
He swallowed.
“If I gave it back, you would ask how I had it.”
“And then you would have to admit you were there.”
“Yes.”
“So you hid it for two years.”
“At first.”
He looked toward my wedding ring.
“I brought it with me yesterday because I planned to tell you everything after the ceremony.”
I stared at him.
“After?”
He said nothing.
“You wanted me legally married to you before telling me the truth.”
His silence answered for him.
Then Richard stepped closer.
“But what happened afterward was real.”
I said nothing.
“You fell in love with me again.”
His eyes filled.
“I didn’t force that. I didn’t make you say yes when I proposed.”
That hurt because part of me knew it was true.
Those memories belonged to me.
Coffee in the mornings.
Richard holding me when I woke from nightmares.
Laughing together.
Falling in love.
Accepting his proposal.
Those moments had been real.
But the world surrounding them had been built on a lie.
