Do You Remember(44)

“Tess, look at me.”

I lift my eyes to meet his. All the anger from a moment ago has vanished. “What?”

“I’m not trying to drug you. You have to believe me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

I shake my head. “So what was in that drink? I saw something.”

He rubs at the back of his neck. “You’re right. There was something dissolved in that drink. But it wasn’t anything bad. It was your medications, Tess. Prescribed by the doctor you see for your head injury.”

“What medications?”

“For your seizures.” He tugs at the hem of his T-shirt. “You were getting horrible seizures after your accident. Your whole body would shake, and you hit your head twice when it happened. One of the times you hit your head, the bleeding in your brain got worse. You need to be on your seizure medications.” He frowns. “But lately, you’ve been refusing to take them because you think I’m drugging you for some reason. So I started putting them in your drink. I’m sorry. I didn’t do it to upset you. I just thought it would be easier this way.”

I think of the ominous message I found scribbled on my thigh this morning. “I don’t believe you.”

“Fine. Do you want me to show you?”

Before I can answer, Graham gestures at me to follow him, and he leads me down the hallway to the downstairs bathroom. If this is a game of chicken, he’s playing it very well. He opens the medicine cabinet and pulls out two orange pill bottles.

“These are your seizure medications,” he says. “We have you on once-a-day medications because getting you to take them in the morning was impossible. I mean, I don’t blame you. You usually have no idea what’s going on in the morning, and you’re not eager to swallow a bunch of pills.”

I take the bottle of pills from him. My name and the name of the drug are written on the bottle and underneath in smaller letters, “FOR SEIZURES.” There’s a doctor’s name and prescribing number.

“You can call the pharmacy if you want,” he says. “I’m telling you the truth. And here…” He takes his phone out of his pocket, types something in, then hands it to me. It’s the website from Mt. Sinai with a photograph of the doctor whose name is on my prescription bottle. Dr. Leonard Sawinski. “That’s your neurologist. He’s not a quack. He’s the chairman of the whole department.”

I look in the bottle of pills. It’s about half full of large capsules. They would be easy to break open and pour into a glass of water.

“They make you pretty groggy though,” he says apologetically. “Usually you just want to go straight to sleep after you’ve had them. But sometimes you realize I slipped you something and freak out.”

Is that what happened last night? I thought he slipped me something and wrote the note to myself?

“I don’t know why Harry keeps bothering you,” he sighs. “Maybe… I don’t know, maybe he believes he’s doing the right thing. Or he’s still in love with you. But I’m the one taking care of you. I’m your husband. I’m just trying to do what’s right. It’s… hard.”

Graham’s head drops down. He almost looks like he’s going to start crying. And I realize at this moment that I believe him. These are real medications. Prescribed by a respected physician.

“Tess?” There’s a groove between his eyebrows. “Say something.”

“I…” I look into the bottle of pills again. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

He squeezes his hands together. “I’m not going to force you, okay? But I want you to take these pills. I’m scared about you having another seizure. Dr. Sawinski said if you have another bleed in your brain, it might affect your ability to walk… or speak.”

I close my eyes. I remember how panicked I was this morning when I woke up and realized nothing was the way I remembered it. What if I woke up and couldn’t speak? What if I woke up and one side of my body didn’t work anymore? This is bad, but it could be worse.

When I open my eyes again, Graham is still standing there. Patiently. Waiting to see what I’ll decide.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll take the pills.”





DAY THREE





Chapter 27


If you relax and try to have a good day, you will be much happier. Just remember that the people around you care about you very much, and only want you to be safe. Do what they say. You are in good hands. Trust me.



I repeat my own words to myself like a mantra as I sit in my palace of a kitchen, watching my handsome husband who I’ve never met before make me breakfast. This kitchen is unbelievable. I just wish I could remember how my kitchen got this way. And how I got this way.

I smell something burning on the stove while Graham takes a call on his phone. He obviously smells it too, because he rushes over to turn off the stove. I’m worried it’s too late though.

“It’s just a tiny bit burned,” Graham assures me as he ends his call and tosses his phone on the counter. “It still tastes good.”

That’s yet to be seen. “Do I have a phone?”

Graham hesitates a beat. “No. I’m sorry. You couldn’t figure out how to use it and you kept losing it.”