I Faked Amnesia, He Called His Lover His Wife

The day I got out of the hospital, I ended up as a guest in my own home.

A little wooden sign Nathan and I had picked up on a trip used to hang on the master bedroom door.

Now a crystal ornament Ivy liked hung there instead.

My clothes had been stuffed into cardboard boxes and piled in the storage room.

Ivy had her arm hooked through Nathan's as she looked at me.

"Claire, the doctor said you can't handle any stress. I just want to take care of you. That's the only reason I'm putting you in the storage room for now.

"Don't worry. As soon as your memory comes back, I'll help you move back to your own place."

Nathan spoke up, his voice flat. "This is my home with Ivy."

Ivy lowered her head, but she held on to his arm even tighter.

I stood in the entryway, holding my bag from the hospital.

Something in my chest twisted.

I looked at Nathan, waiting for him to explain. Even a single word would have been enough.

But all he did was take Ivy's scarf off for her, then bend down to set her slippers at her feet.

"Guest slippers are on the bottom shelf."

The gray slippers were the ones we used to keep for repairmen.

I bent down and put them on. My heels stuck out the back. Without meaning to, I gripped the handles of my bag tighter.

Dinner was seafood soup.

I'm allergic to shrimp, and Nathan knew it.

On our anniversary, he'd even made a point of telling the restaurant to keep shrimp out of my food.

Now he ladled out a bowl and handed it to Ivy with a tender look. When he noticed I hadn't touched mine, he frowned.

"Ivy spent all afternoon on this. Don't be picky."

My throat went tight.

"I'm allergic."

The table went quiet for a moment.

Ivy hurried to take my soup away, her eyes going red.

"This is all my fault. Nate and I have been together so long that he only remembers what I like."

Nathan pulled out a napkin and wiped her hands.

"You don't need to apologize. Her memory's messed up right now. She's probably remembering it wrong."

I wanted to argue, but the words got stuck in my throat.

So I just got up and went to the kitchen for some water.

As I passed the trash can, I saw an empty box of the stomach medicine Nathan always took.

The night before, he'd had a stomachache at the hospital, and I'd asked a nurse to find some medicine for him. It had taken ages.

I bent down to pick up the box. Ivy followed me in and lowered her voice. "That's Nate's medicine. If you don't know what it's for, leave it alone."

I looked up. My fingers had gone cold and numb.

She took the box, tossed it back in the trash, and called out to Nathan in a sweet voice, "Nate, I warmed up some milk for you."

Nathan took the cup, and his eyes went soft.

Watching them move around each other with the easy familiarity of a married couple made my heart ache.

I wanted to tell the truth right then. But the hurt made me suddenly realize there was no point.

Fine. We'll all keep playing our parts until the day I leave for good.

That night, I slept on a little cot in the storage room.

I could hear the TV through the wall.

Ivy was scared of horror movies, so Nathan turned the volume down, held her close, and patiently explained the plot.

Whenever I came home late from work and asked him to watch just ten minutes of a reality show with me, he'd say it was childish.

At 11, I went out for a glass of water and saw Ivy asleep on his shoulder.

Nathan held up a hand to shush me. "She's a light sleeper."

I stood there for a moment, holding my glass.

He frowned. "Do you need something else?"

"Where's my laptop?"

"Under the desk in the storage room. Be quiet when you get it. Don't wake her."

As I turned, my elbow knocked over a decoration.

Nathan instinctively reached out to steady me, the way he used to.

But before his fingers touched me, he glanced down at Ivy in his arms and immediately pulled his hand back.

That half inch between us made my eyes burn.

I looked down so he wouldn't see.

Back in my room, I opened my laptop and emailed Marcus, the company's VP. I resubmitted my application to lead the Southport data center project.

Three months ago, I'd pulled my application so I could stay in town.

Out in the living room, Ivy woke up and whined that her neck was sore.

Nathan rubbed it for her, then leaned down and kissed her.

I watched through the door for a few seconds. Then I hit Send.