“We were happy,” he whispered.
“Because I didn’t know the truth.”
“But you were happy.”
I looked at him.
“What does happiness mean when it depends on somebody keeping you ignorant?”
His face crumpled.
“I was terrified I would lose you again.”
“You should have given me that choice.”
Richard flinched.
I continued.
“Before my accident, I had the right to decide whether I could forgive you.”
He said nothing.
“And after the accident, I still had that right.”
My voice shook now.
“You took that choice away from me twice.”
Discover more
Hiring Private Investigative Services
Tuxedo
Married
Richard stared at me.
“Then tell me the last two years meant nothing.”
I couldn’t.
Because I had loved him.
Those memories were still mine.
“They mattered,” I said.
Hope crossed his face.
Then I finished.
“And that is exactly what makes this worse.” His expression fell apart.
“You let me love you without knowing what I was forgiving.”
“I gave us another chance.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You gave yourself another chance.”
Then I pushed my wedding ring across the table.
“Someday, maybe you’ll understand that loving someone doesn’t give you the right to decide which truths they’re strong enough to survive.”
“Claire, please.”
I wrapped my fingers around my mother’s svg necklace.
“I’m keeping this.”
I lowered my eyes to the pendant.
“It belongs to me.”
Then I turned and walked away.
That night, I opened my leather notebook to a fresh page.
For the first time, I didn’t record something someone else had told me about the person I used to be.
Instead, I wrote about the woman I wanted to become.
I might never recover every memory I had lost.
Maybe parts of my former life would always remain empty.
But whatever came next would be mine.
My choices.
My truth.
My future.
I shut the notebook.
Then I walked out.
And the door closed softly behind me.
