Until We Are Gone

by Riley, Gia

  “I didn’t read about Cash in the file. What’s there to be embarrassed about though?”

  “The fact that I don’t remember him at all. It makes me feel like a terrible person.”

  I want to tell her that she doesn’t remember me either, but I can’t. An idea pops into my head, and it might do more harm than good, but at this point, I’m running out of time. If I go back to the center and Ms. Lucia says she’s transferring Meadow’s care, I won’t see her again anyway. We’ll never get another moment alone, and then what? I’ll lose her a second time.

  “This changes things, doesn’t it, Nolan? Cash ruined everything.”

  “What exactly are you referring to? I’m still your therapist until I’m told otherwise. That means, you’re still my patient.”

  “Right,” she says. “Never mind then.”

  “No. Tell me what you’re thinking.” I’m done assuming I know what’s going through Meadow’s head.

  She had a million chances to tell me about Cash, yet he never came up. We talked for hours, and through all the flirting, she made herself seem available.

  Even when we were dating, she still didn’t mention Cash. There were no signs of another man. No ring, no house, no joint custody of any kids. Just a nurse living the single life, taking care of Mimi and spending the rest of her time with me.

  “I didn’t lie, Nolan. You never asked me about my husband, and I didn’t want you to know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Everyone treats me differently because of Cash.”

  I have a feeling that’s something I need to dig further into, so I make a mental note to address it during our next session. For now, I focus on easier questions. Ones she can handle here, in the hospital, without another anxiety attack.

  “How long have you been married?”

  “A couple of years,” she says.

  Years.

  It’s only been nine months since the accident. The timelines just don’t add up or make any sense.

  I’m about to ask another question when the tech from radiology shows up, ready to push Meadow down to the department for her tests.

  “How long will this take?” I ask her.

  “No more than twenty minutes. You can wait here or walk down with me and wait in the waiting room. It’s up to you.”

  Meadow reaches for my hand and then pulls it back into her lap, afraid to cross any lines. I know she wants me to come with her. Probably because she’s afraid I’ll leave, and then she might not see me again for a couple of days. Or maybe not at all if Ms. Lucia cuts off the treatment plan.

  “I’ll wait here,” I tell them both.

  I need a minute to get my head on straight. Because, as frustrated and confused as I am, I still care about Meadow. Even when she was missing, I couldn’t hate her. All I wanted to do was find her.

  Mimi told me to move on, that if it was meant to be, we’d find our way back to each other. I thought she was crazy, but when Ms. Lucia tossed Meadow’s file on my desk and told me to read through it, I knew my second chance was right in front of my face.

  I got my hopes up.

  I let my heart dictate my actions, and now, I’m stuck in the middle of right and wrong—pursuing Meadow regardless of Cash, hoping we find our way back a third time.

  Even if the third time’s the charm, it’s a huge risk.

  “Are you leaving, Nolan?” Meadow asks.

  “We’ll finish our conversation later. I’m just going outside to wait for my car. Someone from the center is bringing it over, so I can take you back when you’re finished.”

  Her shoulders relax, and though she’s still hurting, she says, “Okay. Thank you.”

  I hate that she’s in pain. What happened today wasn’t her fault.

  The fact that she threw her entire body in front of me, knowing she’d take the brunt of a grown man’s shoe, blows my mind. I’ve never had anyone do something like that for me. And what’s even crazier is that the Meadow I knew before the accident would have done the same thing. That’s just who she was—who she still is.

  Selfless.

  “I’ll see you when you get back, gorgeous.”

  That earns me a sweet smile.

  twenty-eight

  MEADOW

  Nolan was waiting in my room when I got back from radiology, just like he’d said he’d be. All the tests came back negative, and other than the nasty bruise forming on my rib cage, there’s nothing wrong with me. Except for my memory.

  Physically, I’ll recover, but mentally, I’ve added another layer of invisible armor. My only self-defense mechanism against my husband that I have left.

  After the fight, there’s no denying that we’re toxic together, two people who just can’t manage to get on the same page despite months of therapy.

  I know a lot of that has to do with me. As long as my mind is focused on Nolan, I’ll never repair anything with Cash. But I don’t want to fix it anymore. Life has moved on without us, and each time I envision my future, Cash just isn’t in it.

  A divorce isn’t a knee-jerk reaction to a shitty situation. It is months of buildup that finally exploded.

  What little I have left, I’m okay with. He can have the house and everything inside of it.

  I laugh at the irony, considering I’m wearing Nolan’s shirt, not even one of my own.

  But, as I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I don’t hate the woman looking back at me. She has a lot of work to do, but she’s made progress. That’s more than I can say for three months ago when I was drowning myself in alcohol, spending my nights in a filthy bathtub at an abandoned house.

  And I know the progress is real because, when I look at Nolan, he smiles. He sees the woman beneath the layers of pain, the woman who’s afraid of almost everything yet calmed by his presence.

  “Are you ready?” he asks, not rushing me but as eager to get out of this place as I am. There’s way too much history inside these walls.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  We walk to his car in silence, and he opens the door for me. I laugh—not because it’s chivalrous, but because the car doesn’t fit him. Sure, he’s a fancy doctor with a big paycheck, but he’s also a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of guy. A country boy with a city job.

  “This girl I was with made me get it,” he tells me.

  It’s the first time he’s mentioned dating someone. I never thought to ask because, when I dream about Nolan, he’s mine. I didn’t even consider what I’d do if he wasn’t available.

  “You really have to stop doing that,” I tell him as I climb into the passenger seat.

  Holding on to my door, waiting to close it, he says, “Doing what?”

  “Reading my mind.”

  “It’s not me, Meadow. You’re just easy to read sometimes. I see the wheels turning, and then I respond before you ask.”

  “So, you are physic.”

  Laughing, he closes my door and jogs around to the driver’s side.

  “If you’re cold, you can turn the heat up.”

  It’s a little chilly, but I think it’s mostly my nerves, not the temperature inside the car.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I spit out unexpectedly. Because it’s eating away at me now.

  Pausing for a second, he glances at me, and my heart skips a beat. If I were still hooked up to the monitors, they’d be beeping out of control. My room would be filled with nurses, and I’d have those little sticky patches all over my chest again.

  “No, Meadow. I haven’t even dated in about nine months.”

  He’s telling the truth. You don’t look at someone the way he just looked at me if you’re taken.

  “There’s no chance of you getting back together with your ex? Who sounds like a gold digger by the way.”

  He smiles, and I get lost in the little lines around his eyes that crinkle up, wondering about all the different experiences that put them there. All the laughs, jokes, heartache, and pain.

  “She wasn’t a gold digger.
The exact opposite actually. The whole thing was a joke.”

  “You bought a car because of a joke?”

  He’s never struck me as the impulsive type. But, if you have the money, who am I to judge?

  “Well, I needed a car regardless, but the joke was about me looking more like the patient than the doctor.”

  My stomach drops to the floor. That’s exactly what happened this morning when Cash walked in the building and saw me with Nolan. He thought I was seeing another patient, and I’m sure he believed we were plotting a way to drink our way out of rehab. Because that’s all I was good for—messing up and ruining what opportunities I had left.

  “She sounds like a handful,” I tell him.

  “She’s a sweet person. Full of life, and she has a really good sense of humor.”

  If she’s so great, then why isn’t he still with her?

  “You sound like you miss her.”

  “I have for a long time,” he says, gripping the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles turn white.

  “Then, why don’t you try again?” I’m jealous. It’s hard to pretend I’m not.

  “It’s complicated,” he says.

  Complicated.

  If anyone knows complicated, it’s me. I’m the one who woke up and didn’t remember my life or the man I’d married.

  Nolan doesn’t elaborate on why it would be difficult though, and as much as I want to press for more information to see what I’m up against, he looks like he’s a million miles away.

  They must not have ended on good terms, and I don’t want to piss him off by dwelling on that. There’s nothing worse than being forced to talk about things that make you miserable.

  “Would you mind if I stopped to check on my neighbor? She’s on the way back to the center, and with her condition, I don’t like being away for too long.”

  Considering I’ve kept Nolan busy for nearly twenty-four hours, the least I can do is agree to a stop. It’s not like I have anything to look forward to once we get back to the center. The best part of rehab is sitting beside me.

  “I don’t mind, Nolan. Do whatever you need to do.”

  “Just don’t tell Ms. Lucia. She’ll lose her mind. I’m sure she’s had to contact the social workers since you’re technically serving time,” he jokes.

  “Like one big criminal.”

  He pulls in front of a house and then looks at me. If eyes could speak, I’d have just heard a thousand words.

  “You’ll never be a criminal, Meadow. Plus, you’re too gorgeous for stripes.”

  “Six,” I whisper.

  If he hears me, he doesn’t say anything. He unbuckles his seat belt and opens his door. “I’ll just be a minute. Don’t move,” he says over his shoulder. Then, he leans his head back inside and winks, his way of letting me know he’s only being bossy because he has to.

  Nolan trusts me. There’s no doubt in my mind.

  Ms. Lucia would never leave me sitting in a car and expect me to still be there when she got back. Even Cash didn’t leave me alone in public.

  Three months ago, I might have run away from Nolan. But, wherever he is, that’s where I want to be. I have no desire to break the rules or take advantage of his kindness.

  His phone dings with a message, and I realize he left it sitting in the console. I think it’s a text message, one I hope isn’t from Ms. Lucia. I want to run the phone inside, so he has it, but he told me not to move. I can’t risk breaking his trust, so I stay put and let it keep dinging with messages.

  After the third one, temptation gets the best of me, and I pick it up. Expecting to need a password, I’m shocked when the screen slides open, and his entire world is lying in my palm.

  Most people would probably race to read the incoming text messages or glance at social media, but my finger hovers over his picture application, and I press it.

  Hoping for clues about Nolan, I scroll through the pictures, glancing at the door every few seconds so that I don’t get caught.

  But, when I flick the screen one more time, the world stands still.

  An earthquake could split the road in half, sucking the car into a giant sinkhole, and I still wouldn’t notice. Because inside Nolan’s phone are pictures of me.

  I’m in bed sleeping with the covers lying haphazardly over my naked body. It’s not a bed I recognize—not the one at the treatment center or the one in the house I shared with Cash.

  Where am I?

  Frantically, I search the rest of the photos and stop when I come across a house that looks just like the one in front of me. I’m standing on the porch, wearing scrubs, and my hair’s in a ponytail. I have a bag over my shoulder, and I’m smiling. I wish I knew what I was looking at.

  The next picture, I’m in a car lot, standing next to a car that looks identical to the one I’m sitting in. The last three digits on the license plate are in the photo, so I get out of the car and run around back to see if they match. They do.

  Am I the girl who made him buy the Mercedes?

  The last picture in his phone is of the two of us, side by side. Nolan’s kissing my cheek, and my face is all scrunched up with yellow icing on the tip of my nose—lemon poppy seed.

  Grandma’s favorite.

  twenty-nine

  NOLAN

  “Nolan, honey, she’s outside in your car. The car that she helped you pick out. You have to tell her the truth,” Mimi insists after I gave her a quick rundown of what’s been going on.

  I know she’s right. But, from the moment I saw Meadow, I’ve been hoping that she’ll remember me on her own. The last thing I want is to become another Cash. And maybe I wouldn’t be if our relationship didn’t happen to fall in a period of time that’s been erased from her mind.

  “It’s risky, Mimi. I don’t know how she’ll react. What if she wants to drink?”

  “Well, you can’t pretend like it never happened. That girl has suffered enough. And, if she finds out on her own, it’ll only destroy her more.”

  “I’ll look like I’ve been keeping secrets. Even though I only want to do what’s best for her.”

  “Exactly. Your intentions are good, son, but your plan is shit.”

  Leave it to Mimi to set me straight.

  I thought waiting was the right thing to do. Because I just got Meadow back, and I wasn’t ready to lose her again. That’s the last thing I’d ever want.

  “How do I tell her, Mimi?”

  “Show her with your heart,” she says.

  My heart. She’s had that from the moment I walked inside this house and saw her with Mimi.

  “I can’t use the pictures though. That’s how her husband drove her crazy.”

  “A husband she obviously doesn’t want,” she reminds me. “Women are complicated. Much more so than men. But they always know what they want, even when they say they don’t. So, find that out, read between the lines if you have to, and then you’ll have all the answers you need.”

  She makes it sound easy and impossible, all in the same breath.

  Standing up, I glance outside to make sure Meadow’s okay. I do a double take when I don’t see her inside the car. She was up all night, so maybe she wanted to rest and put the seat back. But, when I pull the curtain back further, I see her standing at the back of the car, looking at a phone.

  Tapping my pockets, I realize I was in such a hurry to see Mimi that I left it in the car.

  Just yesterday, I removed the fingerprint reader on it because it was giving me trouble. I couldn’t risk getting locked out of my phone. That means, Meadow has access to every text message, all of my contacts, and the photos I’ve saved.

  Fuck!

  The photos of me and her, the ones that I couldn’t bring myself to delete after she left me. Those three were my favorite and spoke the loudest in terms of our relationship.

  “Is everything okay, Nolan?”

  “I’m not sure, but I have to go.”

  “Go make it right. She’s the one, Nolan. I knew it then, and I k
now it now.”

  I’ve known that all along, too. But, after I give Mimi a quick hug and turn back around, I don’t see Meadow’s shadow behind the car anymore.

  Panic doesn’t begin to describe what I feel. How am I going to explain to Ms. Lucia that I misplaced Meadow? I wasn’t supposed to stop anywhere. It was my responsibility to get her back to the center, and now, I have to call the cops because I lost my patient.

  Pushing Mimi’s walker out of the way, I run for the door. Her visiting nurse should be here any minute, and I pray like hell that she passes Meadow, so I know which way to go to find her.

  But, when I open the front door, Meadow’s standing on the other side, her entire body trembling.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  She holds up the phone and shows me a picture. Not just any picture. An intimate one of her sleeping in my bed. It was taken two days before the accident. Three days before I planned to ask Meadow to sell her condo and move in with me.

  I was serious about the two of us, and we spent most of our free time at my place anyway. It seemed dumb for her to waste her money when I had a warm bed and enough space for all her stuff.

  “I can explain,” I tell her.

  “I’m scared, Nolan. I don’t know what’s happening, and I really want a drink.”

  I’ve run out of time, and now, my bad decisions have caught up with me. I should have told Meadow sooner. Because there’s nothing worse than seeing her like this, shaking and afraid.

  “Just breathe,” I tell her. “Come inside, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Screw the time stamp on her hospital discharge papers. The hell with Ms. Lucia and the center. Everything will just have to wait.

  thirty

  MEADOW

  According to the photo in Nolan’s phone, I’ve stood on this porch before. The fact that I have no idea who even lives here though makes me feel like I’m going crazy.