2

The next day, Ivy offered to take me to my follow-up appointment. She took my hand right in front of Nathan.

"Claire, I promise I'll help you get your memory back."

Nathan opened the car door for her and waited until she was settled before he looked at me.

"You sit in the back."

The seat that used to be mine was Ivy's now.

My neck pillow used to sit on the passenger seat. Now a cartoon cushion Ivy had bought sat in its place.

When the car braked hard, Nathan's arm shot out in front of her, and my forehead slammed into the back of the seat.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"Put your seat belt on. Stop making people worry about you."

I held my forehead and didn't answer.

His concern sounded more like a scolding, but it still made my chest ache.

At the hospital, Ivy helped me into a chair. She was the picture of a perfect friend.

Dr. Mark Quinn went over my chart and asked if I'd had any headaches or trouble sleeping.

Ivy sighed and answered before I could, "She came out in the middle of the night and stared at us. Is she having trouble accepting that she's lost her memory?"

I pulled my arm away. My voice came out rough. "The doctor asked me."

Ivy gave Nathan a wounded look.

His face darkened.

"She's worried about you."

"If she's worried about me, she should let me speak for myself."

Mark asked them to wait outside.

Before Nathan left, he warned the doctor, "Don't play along with her mixed-up memories."

Once the door was shut, Mark hesitated. "Is he really your best friend's husband?"

I tightened my grip on my test results, looked up at him, and lowered my voice. "Dr. Quinn, I need you to do me a favor."

After we left the hospital, Ivy suggested we go to the mall for lunch.

She spotted a white dress she liked, tried it on, and turned to face Nathan.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful."

"Claire likes white too. Why don't we get her one?"

Nathan glanced at me.

"You wouldn't fit into her size."

I'd been a swimmer in college, so my shoulders were broader than Ivy's.

Nathan used to tell me how good I looked in off-the-shoulder dresses. Now all he had to say was that Ivy's size wouldn't fit me.

For a second, I almost asked him.

Have you really forgotten, or did you stop caring about me a long time ago?

The salesclerk suggested another style, and he shut her down.

"No need. She has plenty of clothes."

Ivy came out of the fitting room in the white dress, but somehow, a large coffee stain had appeared on the skirt.

She looked down at the stain, and her eyes went red right away.

"Claire, I only asked you to hold my bag for a second. How did you spill coffee on the dress?"

The salesclerk rushed over and examined the skirt.

"This is a limited edition. If the stain doesn't come out, you'll have to pay full price."

I looked at Nathan. "I didn't do that."

Ivy bit her lip and explained, sounding hurt.

"I know you didn't mean to. But you're the only one who touched my bag."

Nathan's face hardened. "Claire. Apologize."

"I never touched her dress."

I pointed at the security camera by the fitting room door. "Pull the footage and you'll see who did it."

But Ivy grabbed Nathan's hand right away, her voice trembling. "Forget it. Maybe I wasn't careful. Let's not embarrass Claire over a dress."

Nathan yanked his hand away from hers and shot me a cold look.

"She's giving you a way out, and you're still being so petty?"

The salesclerk brought the bill. Ivy went pale when she saw the total and grabbed Nathan's sleeve.

"Nate, I didn't mean to. I just didn't think it would be this expensive."

Nathan didn't hesitate. He pulled out his card and paid for the dress.

Once the payment went through, he crumpled up the receipt and tossed it in the trash.

"Happy now?"

Watching him clean up her mess, I finally knew for sure.

The man who used to stand by me was now firmly on her side.

Back at home, I got a video meeting invite from Marcus.

The competition to lead the Southport project was fierce, and the previous project manager had suddenly quit. The company needed me to submit a financial model within three days.

I said yes. At one in the morning, Nathan knocked on my door and told me to get out of the study.

"Ivy has a meeting in the morning. Your typing will keep her up."

"There are two walls between us."

"But the noise will bother her."

Ivy stood behind him.

"It's okay. I'll just sleep with the covers over my head."

Nathan stroked her hand and turned to me.

"Go work in the kitchen. It's farther from the bedroom."

I looked at him, the last of my hope slowly fading.

I took a pair of noise-canceling headphones out of a drawer and shoved them into Ivy's arms.

"A gift for your husband. Tell him to stop getting in the way of other people's work."