Lost In Me (Here and Now 1)

And when Max walked into th

e room and called my name through the steam, I laughed. “This is what you wanted,” I said, grabbing a fistful of Nate’s hair and holding him against me. “You wanted me to find someone else, and I did. Now go fuck a blonde.”

I woke up confused, horny, guilty, and depressed. Did it mean something, or is my brain just screwed up from how crazy everything’s been the last few weeks?

I’ve been home from the hospital for two weeks and I feel like I never see Max. He works late almost every night, and when he does come over, he doesn’t stay long. And we’ve never had sex. I know he’s turned on by me—it’s evident—but it’s almost like he’s perfectly satisfied to stop things with a little groping.

In the meantime, wedding planning is going full speed ahead. I ended up having a meeting at the bakery during our caterer appointments last week, so Mom went with Max and they picked a caterer without me. I was relieved not to have to mess with it. Shouldn’t I be more excited about my wedding?

From the edge of Mom’s back deck, I scan the crowd gathered for my engagement party and try to push my anxiety to the side.

In just two weeks, Mom pulled together a party to rival the weddings of most girls in this town. I didn’t give her any input on the event, but then again, she didn’t ask for any. Not too different than my wedding, now that I think of it.

Nix Reid, my doctor and apparently friend, sidles up to me and puts her hand on my arm. “You look stressed. Are you okay?”

I force a smile. “I’m great. Turned out beautifully, didn’t it?”

The evening is warm but not too warm to mingle out on the lawn. Servers circulate with hors d’oeuvres, and Mom hired a bartender to serve drinks from a makeshift bar on the deck.

On the lawn, a small band is playing in front of the temporary floor put down so our guests can dance under the stars. It’s beautiful and perfect and terrifying.

“It’s a lovely party.” She smooths her hair and shifts awkwardly. She doesn’t seem like a woman who’s comfortable in dress clothes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing great, really.” I pause for a breath. “Do you have any guess as to when my other memories might come back?”

Nix looks around. “This is what you want to talk about right now?” She puts her hand on my shoulder and smiles. “Relax. Stressing about your memory isn’t going to help anything.”

“It’s just weird,” I say. “I’m getting these pieces back, but the last few months are still completely missing. Like they never happened.” And the last few months are the memories I want the most.

“Memory recovery isn’t an exact science. It’s different for everyone, but it does usually happen chronologically—not always, but for the most part. Just because you don’t have any memories from the last few months doesn’t mean you won’t.”

“There’s so much I still don’t know. And the day of the accident? The day I fell down the stairs?” The day I put on Max’s ring. “I want that back. I want it all back.”

“Listen,” she says. “The worse the head trauma, the less likely you are to remember the events leading up to it. You need to make peace with the possibility that you might never recover your memories of the accident or the days prior.”

Including the day I chose Max. “This sucks.”

She whispers, “I know, but let it go. For tonight at least, okay? Try to enjoy your party. I’ll see you in my office next week.”

“Where’s the couple of honor?” the bandleader asks in the mic. “Because I understand this is their song.” The guitar player starts into the first notes of Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up.”

Suddenly, Max is next to me, taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor.

“This is our song?” I ask as I slip my arms around his neck.

“I gave you the ring three months ago, remember?”

Something squeezes in my chest as the man sings the line about giving his love the space she needs to navigate. Is that what Max did for me? Gave me the space I needed to figure this out? I want to remember.

“You look drop-dead gorgeous tonight,” he murmurs against my ear.

I’m wearing a red dress, a bold, daring color that draws attention to my legs and my curves. Not just any red dress. It’s Lizzy’s. The one she wore to the winter gallery opening. Now I remember the night I caught Max checking her out and felt twelve kinds of depressed about it…until he kissed me silly.

“You know what I think would be even more gorgeous than you in that dress?”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“You out of that dress. In my bed.”