“What do you do?” He caught nothing Rory said to him at the hospital.
“I just graduated from nursing school.”
His lips twisted. “Did Rory tell me that? Is that something I should have known?”
“I think she mentioned it, but it’s fine. You sent me a graduation card.” With a goofy, tight smile, I shrugged. “So … thanks.”
He chuckled. That was the Fisher I remembered. That soft chuckle accompanied by a slight head shake. “You’re welcome. Did I put money in the card?”
“No money.”
“Hmm …” He frowned. “Kinda cheap of me. Sorry about that.”
Okay, maybe he wasn’t the same Fisher. It was really hard to tell at that point.
It was my turn to laugh. “It’s fine. I don’t think college graduations are like high school graduations.”
“Maybe. Did I write something nice in the card?”
I found his genuine interest entertaining. As heartbreaking as his accident was, as his memory loss was, I couldn’t deny the new Fisher brought a smile to my face. “Yes, I believe you wrote something nice in the card.”
“Was it lame like, ‘The future is yours,’ or ‘Much success?’”
On another laugh, I shook my head. “No. If I recall correctly, you were way more original than that.”
“It’s funny. I’m trying to remember if I ever recall Rory talking about having a daughter.”
“Well, if you don’t remember me, then it’s unlikely you’d remember her talking about me.”
He stared at the television, but I sensed he wasn’t focused on the show. “Did you like working for me?”
Biting my lips together, I gave that careful thought. That wasn’t an easy question.
“You’re hesitating. Is that a no?”
“You were focused and driven. I was young and, honestly, a little clueless in my life at the time. You hired me as a favor to my mom, but I’m certain you had some days that you questioned why you made that offer.”
“Oh? Why do you say that?”
Before I could answer, Rory and Angie returned. Angie’s eyes were red. She’d clearly been crying.
“Everything okay?” Fisher asked, concern etched into his face. “Did I mess up again?”
Oh, Fisher …
It was hard to fully put myself in his shoes, but I tried. I tried to imagine a complete stranger coming up to me and telling me they were my fiancé. We were in love. And I simply didn’t remember. How does one navigate that? Would I have been able to play the part? Pretend to be in love?
It wasn’t that I didn’t see it from her side—clearly, he didn’t remember me either—but I kind of saw it from his side a little more. Probably because I wanted to see it more from his side.
“You didn’t do anything, babe. It’s just been an emotional few weeks. You’re home now. Life will start to feel normal again, and I’ll get past my silly emotions.” Angie kneeled on the floor next to Fisher’s chair and held his good hand, giving it a kiss and pressing it to her cheek.
Fisher visibly stiffened, and when Angie glanced up at him, he forced a smile. The smile one would have given to a stranger.
She had no choice but to put her heart out in the open on a platter for him to cut into tiny pieces with his unintentionally insensitive comments. However, I kept my heart a little more guarded.
We ended.
I moved on.
He moved on.
End of story.
That was my brain’s version of the story. Another reason I kept my heart guarded was to keep it from fighting with my brain. It didn’t feel like I had moved on. It didn’t like to think of Fisher moving on. And it definitely didn’t like to think our story had ended.
“We’ll give you two some privacy. I’m so glad you’re home,” Rory said.
Before she could take a single step toward the door, Fisher spoke up. “You should stay for dinner. I know you sent way too much food for two people.”
“Oh …” Rory shook her head, giving Angie a questioning expression on a quick glance. “No. Rose is home. And I made the food for you two. You don’t have to eat it all in one night. We’ll drop by another night. Maybe we’ll bring pizza and beer.”
“Yeah, babe. You need to rest anyway.” Angie continued to pet his hand and arm. He didn’t want to be alone with her.
“What’s so funny?” Rory asked.
“What?” I narrowed my eyes.
“You’re smiling. What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I didn’t mean to smile. I’ll rein that in.”
Fisher snorted a laugh. “Yep. She’s your daughter, Rory.”
With no success, Rory attempted to hide her grin from me. “Let’s go, Daughter. Don’t you have a job to find or crosswords to construct?”
“Crossword puzzles?” Fisher did that head tilt that I’d always adored. My little puppy dog. More like a wolf back then.
“Yes.” I smiled, wondering if that would jog his memory. “A cruciverbalist. Ever heard of that?”