Page 102 of The Lies I Told
She nodded.
No sign of panic or worry. No ugly realization that I was not the man she’d once thought I was. I was glad of that. It had been crushing to see the horror and anger in those eyes. I wanted back the dewy, hazy eyes I’d looked into so many years ago as I’d come inside her when she was someone else.
“Can you move your fingers?” I asked.
Fingers painted with chipped red nail polish wiggled.
“That’s good.”
“Where am I?” she whispered.
“You were in a car accident,” I said. “But you’re all right now. You’re going to be fine.”
She swallowed and moistened her lips. I went to the sink, dampened a washcloth, and pressed it to her lips. “The nurse will give you liquids soon. This will have to do for now.”
She sucked on the cloth, drawing in as much moisture as she could.
“Go back to sleep,” I said gently as I touched the side of her face. “I’ll be around, and you’ll see me soon. You’re safe now.”
Her eyes closed, and I carefully draped the damp cloth over the sink. As much as I wanted to linger, the longer I stayed, the more I invited trouble. It wouldn’t be good to be found here. I’d be forced to explain my presence and then perhaps the stolen credentials of a man thirty years my senior.
Out of the room, I ducked my head and headed toward the service elevator. I pressed the button as an orderly rolled a cart past. A phone rang at the nurses’ station. The doors opened and I hurried inside, grateful when they closed. Head still tucked because there were cameras on the elevator, I did my best not to fidget.
When the doors slid apart, I crossed the lobby and moved out into the bright sunshine. Euphoria rushed my system. Marisa was alive. Andshe didn’t seem to remember me. Her confusion could be a one-off from the drugs, but her heart rate had not spiked, and there’d been no panic or fear registering in her features.
I thought I might have another chance with Clare and Marisa, who in my mind now were one and the same. Two spirits in one body. We had another chance to get it right. To start anew.
43
JO-JO
Saturday, March 19, 2022
11:00 a.m.
I’d blocked out anything to do with Clare for years, but now that I was pregnant, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. In fact, Marisa’s text felt like a sign from Clare, who had to be watching me again. Judging me. She wasn’t happy with my silence.
The baby would soon grow and fill my body, and I realized there was no more space inside me for secrets. If this baby was going to thrive, I had to break ties with the past. Maybe that was why I’d slipped the camera into my bag before I’d come here today.
However, the instant I saw Marisa’s face, I saw only one thing. She’d been drinking. It’d been a long time since I’d seen the puffy, pale version of her face, and I’d begun to think I’d never see it again. I was sorry to see it. “You got drunk.”
Marisa sat down at the café table, drawing in the slow, steady breath of someone who was nauseated. I knew the look. I’d seen it on my own face enough times in the mirror lately.
“I did,” she said. “I screwed up.”
“Are you going to a meeting?” I asked.
“Right after this lunch,” she said. “Ready to turn in my one-year chip and start over.”
There was a surety in her tone that took some of the sting out of my disappointment. I wanted to believe she was on the right path. “At least you’re not making excuses.”
“Lying is a waste of time. I never did handle a hangover well, and to pretend otherwise is stupid.”
“You and me both.” A waitress came to the table. We both ordered colas and french fries. “Brit called me. She said she and David are getting married.”
“The happy couple came by my place this morning and told me.”
“So Brit saw you like this?”
