Chapter 8 The Memories

I took a deep breath and willed my voice not to shake. I couldn't handle any more sympathy right now.

"I'm pretty tired. I'm just going to head up to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning," I said, turning to walk toward the stairs.

"Ok, hon. Are you sure you're OK?" Sherry asked.

I raised my glass of wine, which was filled a little more than usual. "Not really, but this will help."

"Goodnight...let us know if you need anything," Chris added.

By the time I'd reached their guest bedroom, I could barely hold back my emotions any longer. I guzzled the wine - wishing I'd brought the whole damned bottle with me - as I changed into my oversized sleep shirt. I went into the attached bath to complete my nighttime routine out of habit. I washed my face, put on moisturizer and then grimaced as I brushed my teeth and the minty-fresh toothpaste mixed with the taste of the red wine I'd just had.

I plugged my phone into the charger next to the bed before sinking down onto the plush mattress, fluffing my pillow under my head in an effort to get comfortable. I was mentally drained, but I knew I wouldn't be able to shut my mind down anytime soon.

I stared at the ceiling as the images ran through my mind as they had so often lately. Snapshots of my life with David that I now looked at through new eyes - eyes that were no longer covered by rose-colored glasses.I was searching for some sign, some hint that I hadn't picked up on, some indication that something was off.

We had met in college. I was a freshman and David was a senior in the five-year architecture program. He had graduated high school with a full year of undergrad prerequisites under his belt thanks to the A/P college classes he took in school, so he completed his program in just four years on campus. He completed his master's degree in eighteen months while interning for Randall's firm, before buying into the partnership. He had pushed himself to succeed, driven by a burning desire to leave his humble beginnings behind.

We came from different backgrounds, although we had been dating for a while before he realized just how vastly different those backgrounds were. He had been attending college on a full-ride scholarship with little money to spare. His part-time job barely covered any extra expenses beyond what the scholarship and his internship paid for, and he had no family support. His father had died of a drug overdose when he and Scott were young - David and I had actually bonded over the fact that we both lost our fathers at a young age - and his widowed mother had passed away the year before we met. She'd had a heart condition, undetected for far too long because she didn't have medical insurance and had struggled to get by as it was. She didn't have extra money to go to the doctor, and had assumed that feeling run down, getting dizzy and being short of breath was due to overwork. By the time she had collapsed at work one afternoon and was rushed to the hospital, it was too late. Her heart was failing, and nothing could be done. She'd soon left behind nothing more than outstanding medical bills and two heartbroken sons.

I remembered our first date. He'd taken me on a picnic to a local nature park, and we had hiked the trails afterward. He'd taken my picture in front of a field of wildflowers, and for the longest time, that photo sat on the corner of his desk at the office. I had no idea when that photo had disappeared or where it went. It had been replaced at some point by one of the two of us attending a black-tie fundraising gala last year.

On our picnic date, he had apologized for not being able to take me out to any place "fancy", but I had truly loved it, completely charmed by the sweet romanticism of it all - and by the man who had planned it for me. David had refused to allow me to pay for anything that first few weeks.It was a source of pride for him, until I came up with what I had called the Freebie Funday. We took turns planning and paying for the least expensive date possible, making it into a competition to see who could plan the most fun for the least amount of money.

That first year together we had explored every free festival, museum exhibit and park in the state, often carpooling with friends to split the gas expense of the drive. Our favorites were the small-town roadside attractions, like the statue of the giant pink elephant, or the world's largest tree stump. We had eaten more picnics in that year than most people do in a lifetime, and I'd loved every minute of it. David insisted we always have a candle and music for our evening picnics, often telling me that once he was an architect, he would take me out for the finest candlelight dinner in the city. He had kept that promise, and St. Charles on the Circle had become our go-to restaurant to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, and any other special occasions we had.

Thinking about David taking Vanessa to our special restaurant felt like a sharp knife slicing into my chest - a brief moment of numbness followed by a burning, stinging pain. Unable to stop myself, I grabbed my cell phone from the nightstand and pulled up Instagram, searching for Vanessa's profile. I scrolled down to look at the photo she posted of her "incredible dinner with an incredible man", clicking on the picture so that I could enlarge it. I studied the photo, but there was no sign of David, just his place setting and wine glass on the table opposite hers. She had her fingers resting on the stem of her wineglass, and I noticed the bracelet she was wearing. It was a diamond tennis bracelet, presumably the same one she mentioned in the texts I'd been shown earlier. What was even more interesting is that it was identical to the one he had given me for our anniversary two weeks prior to this photo. A week after our anniversary dinner, I'd been unable to find it. I'd torn the house apart, looked all through my car, even walked a grid pattern in the yard in case it fell off in the grass, but there was no sign of it.

At the time, I had figured it would turn up sooner or later, as many things had over the months before that. I'd gotten very forgetful and scatterbrained, especially in the weeks after the miscarriage. I would forget things that David told me or lose things and then find them later in the oddest places. I'd found my cell phone in the linen closet once, and a book I'd been reading was found in the freezer. I'd thought I was losing my mind for a while and David had even encouraged me to start seeing a therapist at the beginning of June. She felt that I was simply having a delayed reaction to a traumatic event, exacerbated by hormonal changes my body had gone through, and had briefly prescribed an antidepressant which just made my fogged brain even foggier. David had been understanding for the most part, although he did lose his patience at times. Losing the bracelet was one of those times. Now, I was left wondering if he'd bought his mistress a matching bracelet to mine, or if he'd just given her my damned bracelet! Honestly, I wasn't sure which option made me angrier.

I tossed my phone back on the nightstand and rolled over, punching my pillow with a little more force than was called for. I eventually drifted off to sleep, only tohave a disjointed dream of David drowning and pulling me underwater with him. I awoke with a gasp, tears streaming down my face, a little after 4:00 am.

I was still tossing and turning at daybreak, and decided it was pointless to lie in bed any longer.I got up and showered, before drying my hair and pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I was going to have to go back home for more clothes soon, if nothing else. I dreaded the thought.

I made a light breakfast and was sitting at the kitchen island when Sherry walked in, still in her robe and looking in desperate need of her morning caffeine. I told her to have a seat, and made her a cup of coffee, knowing she was fairly useless until she'd had her first cup for the day.

"Bless you," she said gratefully as I sat the cup down in front of her."You look like you didn't sleep a wink last night," she said with a frown.

"I got a few hours in, but I just couldn't turn my brain off," I said, taking my spot on the stool next to her.

"Maybe you should call your doctor to see if they will prescribe sleeping pills or something for you," she suggested. "Just for a little while at least."

I shook my head sharply."Nope, I tried that once a couple of years ago, remember? I'm one of the lucky ones who has a weird reaction.It made me sleepwalk.David had an entire conversation with me in the middle of the night before he realized it.I'd set the alarm off, trying to go sit out on the deck to read at 3:00 am."

"Oh hell, I'd forgotten that. Well, maybe you can try some melatonin or something.You're going to make yourself sick with all this stress and no sleep."

"I know," I sighed.I heard Chris shuffling down the stairs, and looked over to greet him as he walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning. Do you want some coffee?"

"Good God, yes.We stayed up too late last night finishing that movie." He peered closely at me. "No offense honey, but you look like hell."

"Chris!" Sherry scolded him, swatting him on the arm.

He winced and shot me an apologetic grin."Sorry, Lila. You do look really tired though."

"No offense taken, I promise.I was awake most of the night, trying to figure out what's going on. It's funny, I used to think that I knew David better than anyone in this world. We were so attuned to each other's thoughts and emotions. Now, I wonder if any of it was real. Did he change into this awful person, or is that who he was all along, and I just didn't see it?"

"He changed, Lila". Chris said sadly. "I've racked my brain since Horton's visit yesterday, and I think he changed, and we all missed it. It was so gradual we didn't notice, but now - looking back - I can see that things were a little off."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He started distancing himself. He didn't even play in the golf league this season because he said he was working such long hours, but he always seemed to have time to go out with Scott. Whenever we would all get together, he didn't have much to say. I even asked him a couple of times if he was OK, thinking he wasn't feeling well or something. He was constantly on his phone. His insomnia was getting worse, and he was pretty damned irritable sometimes," he finished.

"Lila," Sherry said gently. "At the time, I just put it down to grief or shock, but he changed a lot after your miscarriage." I couldn't help but flinch at her words.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'm not trying to make things worse. I just remember being surprised that it took him so long to get to the hospital once Chris reached him that night, and then he didn't even stay with you when the nurse offered to bring a rollaway bed in. Then, when you were released from the hospital, he said he was too busy to take time off to stay home with you after that first day, so Idid it. I stayed with you for the next three days to look after you because you couldn't even climb the stairs without help. None of that was the David I knew."

My mind was spinning, memories of the past year or more flashing through my brain like pictures on a movie screen. David coming home later and later. More frequent business trips. Excuses for missing dinners or get-togethers with friends. Getting pissed off over the smallest things - or ignoring me for days on end. It was true. All of it.

"He stopped calling me 'baby' all the time. You guys used to tease me that he'd forgotten my name because he never called me Lila. It was always 'baby', remember that?" I asked, my voice strained as I tried to hold back the sob I could feel building.

I thought about his texts with Vanessa. "Obviously, he found somebody else to call 'baby' instead."