The Forget Me Not Pact (The Secret Author Series, #1.4)

by M. J. Padgett

  The pain was horrific, and all I could think about was not telling Jordan how much he meant to me before I died. When I woke, it was all gone. Jordan, my goals for the future, what I wanted for my life—all gone.

  He gently placed his hand on my back and rubbed it. He loved me, I knew that well, but I couldn’t look at him without fear he would vanish before my eyes. The fear was killing me.

  “Okay,” he said, defeated. “I have to go to the shop for a while, but I’ll bring you some lunch. I love you, Dana.”

  He waited patiently for my reply, but I couldn’t muster the energy to tell him every time he walked out the door that I was terrified he would never return, that the only person who made me feel whole might disappear again.

  He sighed and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Once he was gone, I buried my face in my pillow and cried. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to get out of bed and shower, put on a cute dress, and do something with my day that didn’t involve shutting the entire world out.

  Jordan deserved better than a fiancé who wouldn’t even try to have a normal life. He never complained about paying for everything, never whined when he spent his days off by himself, while the woman he loved moped around the apartment, and he didn’t get upset when I put off wedding planning for months.

  I rolled over in the bed and stared at the ceiling. I needed help, more than a one-hour session once a week at a therapist’s office. I wanted better, not just for Jordan but for me. I wanted to be the vibrant, loving, adventurous person I was before, but I didn’t know how to do that. I knew Jordan wouldn’t understand—well, he would, but he would be hesitant to allow me to do anything that would take me out of his sight.

  There was one person I knew would help me. In a rash moment of clarity, I called my mother.

  A couple hours later, I was in her car, and she was telling me all the reasons why what I was doing was the right thing to do. Jordan would never understand, only she could help me. I didn’t believe her, of course, but it was much easier to convince her to take me to a rehabilitation facility than it ever would have been to convince Jordan. Once I was well again, I’d go back to him—if he’d have me after what I did.

  I reminded myself that he deserved more in life than what I was giving him. I reminded myself that spending time in a hospital was best for me, and in the long run, it was also best for him. I let my mother drag me across the state to an expensive “spa” and checked myself in willingly. I could leave whenever I wanted to, but I had a good feeling it would be a long time before I saw anyone outside of the facility again.

  My mother told me again how proud she was that I finally realized I deserved more in life than what Jordan could provide. I ignored her some more, knowing full well what I was doing was for him and not to spite him. It was he who deserved better, and I hoped he would believe that when he got home for lunch, and I was gone.

  Inside the facility was soothing, not as soothing as Jordan’s voice, but at least it didn’t bring on immense guilt like seeing him did. He would probably hate me when he read the letter, but I hoped, deep down, that he would see things the way I did. I hoped he would forgive me, and if he decided to move on without me, then I would accept my fate and try to live a happy life without him.

  Ultimately, my sanity was more important than anything. If I couldn’t even get out of bed, how could I ever be a good wife to him? How could I ever reach my full potential as a person?

  My room was clean and white, pretty much what I expected to find once I signed my life away to the medical facility. A lovely woman named Bethany helped me with the few things I brought with me, except the photo frame that was confiscated at check-in. My mother said she would keep it for me, but I knew once she got home, the picture of Jordan and me together would go straight in the trash.

  I wasn’t suicidal, not as far as I knew, but we weren’t allowed to keep anything that we could harm ourselves with. I, however, could find at least half a dozen things in the room I could easily do just that with, but I didn’t mention it for fear they’d lock me up forever.

  Once Bethany gave me a schedule of activities, she closed the door behind me with a small smile. I sat on the bed and stared at the pristine white wall across from me.

  “This is the right thing, Dana. You know it is.” I would tell myself that a million times before, I’d finally believe it, but I had to follow through.

  I settled into the bed and cried myself to sleep, thinking of the man back home who probably already hated me.

  Day 2090

  Jordan

  SOMETHING FELT OFF the second I turned the key in the door. I pushed it open and looked around, but everything looked the same as I’d left it. I was probably overreacting, but those days I never knew what I’d find when I got home.

  Dana was slipping away. She hardly ate, rarely left the bedroom, and the girl I knew was almost gone. Her fear was understandable, but I couldn’t figure out how to help her. She’d seen half a dozen therapists, tried medication, and other things, but nothing seemed to work. Despite proposing to her and reaffirming every day that it’s what I wanted, she couldn’t believe I wouldn’t just disappear.

  I walked the hall toward the bedroom and pushed the door open. I was surprised to find she wasn’t in bed. I checked the bathroom, thinking she might have decided to try going into the living room today after getting cleaned up. She wasn’t there either, so I checked the walk-in closet, though I assumed I would’ve heard her in there. Nothing.

  I started to get nervous, but I checked the other bathroom and the guest room first, then the balcony. She was nowhere to be found. I began to panic and searched through everything again, but she was gone. I frantically dialed her cell number, but she’d left it behind. It rang on the nightstand, taunting me.

  I darted into the living room only to find all her belongings exactly where she left them. She didn’t mention leaving the apartment. There was no reason to believe she would since she hadn’t in months. I ran out of the door and searched the entire building, even the gym, but she wasn’t there. I checked at the neighbor’s, but he hadn’t seen her. No one had seen her anywhere.

  I ran back to our apartment and tried to decide what to do next. Perhaps she walked to the shop? I called, but none of my employees had seen her. They promised to keep an eye out but seemed doubtful she would magically appear when she hadn’t been there in such a long time. I paced the floor, one second from freaking out.

  I knew the police wouldn’t do anything since she wasn’t necessarily missing, but I tried anyway. Luckily, one of my regulars at the shop was a cop, and he offered to do a ride around the area searching for her. He called an hour later to tell me he had nothing yet, but he would keep searching. During that hour, I paced like a caged tiger.

  Eventually, I went back to the bedroom and sat on the bed. Something crinkled under the sheet, and I pulled it back. There was a handwritten letter there. I snatched it up praying it was a simple note from Dana telling me she went for a walk or to the grocery store. Anything that would make her disappearance make sense.

  Dear Jordan,

  I know it won’t be easy for you to read this. Trust me, it’s killing me to write it, but I have to. First, just know I am safe. I am where I need to be right now. I wanted to tell you, but I knew you would try to fix everything. You can’t fix this. You can’t fix me, not when I’m this broken.

  It’s not your fault. Please, always remember that. None of it is your fault, and I will always love you. Always, always, always. I’m sinking further and further away, and I can’t stand it. You are so wonderful and supportive, but you deserve more than a fiancé who can’t even get out of bed. I’ve gone to get help.

  Please don’t look for me. I can’t stand the thought of you searching all over town for me, but I can’t tell you where I am. If you came for me, I’m not sure I would have the strength to say no, and I need to be where I am.

  Your love was always enough, Jordan. It was more than en
ough, and that’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t give you what you deserve. Our love, it’s special, and I was ruining it. I wasn’t holding up my part in this relationship, and for that, I’m so, so sorry.

  I want to get better. I want to stop being afraid. I want to live again, and I want myself back. I hope one day we see each other again, and you will look at me without hatred. If you move on, if you find another person who is perfect for you and makes you happy, someone who gives you all the things I can’t, don’t hold back. I will love you until the day I die, but sometimes it’s just not enough. Love doesn’t make me an equal partner, and that’s what you deserve.

  I hope one day you can forgive me for this.

  Love, Dana

  I held the letter in my shaky hands, damning life. I knew it was coming. I saw it coming from miles away, but it hurt all the same. I crumpled the letter and threw it across the room where it landed on the clothes hamper. The woman didn’t even have the decency to take her crap with her. I’d have to sort through it all, pack it up, and pretend it didn’t haunt me every day.

  I stifled the urge to search for her. She made her point clear, but it didn’t make it easier to swallow. The room was the same. Her book on the nightstand beside her phone, her pajamas draped over the end of the bed, even the indentation of her body on the bed was still there. I stared at it for a long time, willing myself to wipe it clean and pretend she was right. I could pretend everything she said was true, that I deserved a fiancé that wanted to live and not just exist, but the truth was I never felt like I deserved her at all.

  For the rest of my life, I would never get over the loss of the one person I loved with everything I had. She couldn’t have known when she left what it would do to me. Perhaps she had some idea, but there’s no way she could have known the downward spiral it would trigger.

  The last words she ever said to me, “Just go away, Jordan,” would echo in my mind for years. For the first time ever, I felt anger toward the woman I loved more than life.

  Day 2915

  Dana

  I DABBED ON A LITTLE more make-up, hoping it would hide the purple bruise under my eye. It would have to do for now. Worst case, someone would notice, and I’d simply tell them I fell—again. Kyle was at work, so I decided to make a trip to the grocery store and stock up on his favorite snacks before he got home. I reminded myself what a huge help he was when I left the medical facility, especially since I couldn’t stand listening to my parents trying to dictate my life again.

  I probably should have just let them take over. If I had, I wouldn’t be stuck in a relationship with a guy who thought I was a good thing to take his frustrations out on. I wanted to leave, but I had nowhere to go. When I left the facility, I went to the little shop Jordan owned only to find he’d sold it. He changed his phone number and moved from the little apartment we shared for almost a year before I ruined everything.

  If I’d only let him in, only let him help me the way he’d always wanted to, then things would be different. I guess I can’t know that for sure. I may have gotten worse, but I wished every day I could do it all over again.

  I grabbed my purse and the car keys, still getting a little shudder when I thought of driving, but I had no choice. Once upon a time, Kyle had been good to me. He helped me learn to drive all over again, gave me a place to stay and helped me find a job, even gave me space to get over Jordan. But in the end, it was all a show. Once he had his hooks in me, the real Kyle came out and he wasn’t pretty.

  It was difficult to believe I’d been with him for two years, but I guess time flies by when you’re doing all you can to keep someone happy—to keep yourself alive. I was thinking about just that when I parked the car in the large lot and headed inside to shop. I liked the store, especially shopping midday during the week. It was quiet, and I was less likely to run into someone I knew.

  The cool air hit me in the face when I walked through the double doors. But there was something else. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the air around me was different. When you go somewhere frequently, like your regular grocery store, the sights and sounds and smells become so commonplace, you can almost sense when something is different the moment you enter. For me, the grocery store was an escape. I liked the people who worked there, and nothing ever changed. It was always the same, always steady and consistent. But that day, it was different. It felt familiar, but not like my store.

  I brushed it off, assuming it was my own poor mood. I grabbed a shopping cart and began collecting the things we needed. I was picking out the best apples when a chill shot down my spine. I shivered, again assuming it was my own sullenness affecting me, or maybe the store was just colder than usual. I tied the bag and dropped the apples into the cart.

  When I looked up, I got the shock of a lifetime. Jordan Clark was standing at the end of the produce aisle, looking back at me. His lips parted slightly; otherwise, he was frozen in place. He was holding a basket filled with various items and a woman was standing beside him watching him.

  He briefly gave his attention to her, mumbled a few things, then gave his attention back to me. The woman nodded and squeezed his arm, then gave me a short glance before wandering the opposite way down the aisle.

  It was then that I became cognizant of my own actions. I gripped the cart handle so tightly my nails dug into my palms. I released it and took a breath. When I looked back up, he was walking toward me, but all I could think about was how to escape. I thought I would spend the rest of my life missing him, but never having to see him again. I wasn’t prepared to see him, especially not with someone else.

  “Dana,” he whispered when he was close enough, I could hear him. “Are... how are you?”

  He whispered as if using his normal tone would scare me away. I caught a glimpse of his fingers when he ran his hand through his hair. My mouth fell open, surprised to find the wedding ring there. He realized what he’d done a moment too late but tried to hide it all the same.

  “I’m sorry. I would have told you, but you just... you were just gone, Dana.”

  I sucked in the air again, finding my lungs very small. I had to say something. He was just standing there, waiting patiently for me to do or say something.

  “No... I’m sorry, Jordan.”

  “For what?” he asked before I could finish.

  “Everything. I ruined everything when I left, and I’m so, so sorry.”

  He sighed, then placed his hand on my cart. “I was upset when you left. Things... Well, they went wrong, and I had to sell the shop, but I don’t blame you. You needed help, and I couldn’t give you what you needed.”

  “I still shouldn’t have left the way I did. I just didn’t want you to talk me out of going to the facility, that’s all. I was scared and—”

  “Dana, it’s okay. I hope you’ve found some peace and happiness,” he said, and he truly meant it. I wanted to tell him the truth, but it wasn’t his problem. I’d gotten myself into the mess I was in, and it wasn’t fair to expect him to drop everything and fix it for me. Besides, he was married. He had moved on after I dumped him on his butt with hardly an explanation.

  So, I lied.

  “Yeah, I’m really good. Things are going okay, you know. Just one day at a time. I uh, I won’t keep you from your wife. You probably have things to do.”

  What I wanted to say, what I ached to say, was that I wanted to die right there in the middle of the grocery store. I wanted to tell him that seeing him with someone that wasn’t me hurt more than the accident, more than losing my memories. But that was hardly fair to him. He’d done everything right. I wasn’t necessarily wrong to walk away, but I could have done it a lot better.

  “Becky understands. I mean, don’t worry, I haven’t told her everything, just that you were someone who meant a lot to me, and you went through a rough time.”

  Meant something... meant. Past tense.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I better get going, though. Kyle will be waiting when I get home, so... I shoul
d go,” I whispered, barely keeping it together.

  “Yeah, sure. Okay, have a nice day, I guess.” His blonde hair fell into his eyes the same way it did when we first met. His green eyes bored into mine, waiting for me to either walk away or say something else.

  “You, too. Tell Becky thank you for letting us catch up,” I said.

  He nodded and stepped aside, then I rushed to the check-out pretending everything was okay.

  Day 2915

  Jordan

  I DON’T KNOW WHY SHE lied to me. Even after all the time that passed, I could still tell when she was lying. I saw the bruise under her eye, but I was afraid to ask how it happened. Maybe I was afraid my suspicions were right, that someone had hit her. Or maybe I was afraid I was wrong, and she still didn’t need me in her life.

  Becky was patient and gave me time to move on from Dana, though I suppose I never truly did. The woman wrecked my life when she walked away, leaving only a crinkled letter as an explanation. I had to sort through everything she left behind, but it took me five months to finally admit she wasn’t coming back before I could even consider packing her things away.

  Becky had moved into the apartment next door and wasn’t the least bit freaked out by the idiot who was cursing at the top of his lungs as he threw his ex-girlfriend’s clothes over the balcony. In fact, she marched right into my apartment and asked me if I’d rather light them on fire. She was the only reason my life didn’t go completely off the rails, so when she asked me to marry her, I said yes.

  Standing in the middle of the grocery store watching Dana walk away, I knew I’d made a mistake. It wasn’t that I didn’t love Becky, I did, but I could never love her enough. It wasn't fair to her, and we’d only been married for three months. She deserved much better than a man whose heart would always be split in two, only half hers—perhaps less if I was honest.