Do You Remember(68)

She clasps a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry!”

She grabs a paper towel to help him, but he shoves her away, hard enough to make her stumble. His face is bright pink. “That was boiling hot! You could’ve scalded me! I swear to God, Camila, sometimes I think you’re just as dumb as Tess!”

Camila clasps a hand to her chest and takes a step back. “I apologize. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbles. “I’ve got to go change.”

He pushes past her and heads for the stairwell. I watch him sprint up the steps, feeling mortified by my husband’s behavior. How did I end up marrying a man like that? I don’t understand. And now it feels like I’m stuck with him forever. All because I got into a stupid car accident.

Unless my father can help me. I hope Harry is successful…

“I’m so sorry he spoke to you that way,” I say to Camila.

There’s a crease between her eyebrows. “Tess, did I ever tell you about my Abuelita? And about when she died?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. If you did, I wouldn’t remember, would I?”

“No,” she concedes. “But I remember.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about. I grab a stack of napkins off the kitchen counter. “We should get all the soup cleaned up…”

“Tess.” She grabs my arm to stop me, her fingernails biting into my skin. “Listen, I’m sorry Graham makes up those bullshit stories about the way the two of you met.”

The scarf story. I knew it was a fake. “Oh…”

“You don’t deserve that.” Camila’s eyes are on mine. “You don’t deserve any of his lies. You deserve the truth. Everyone deserves to know the truth.”

The truth? What is the truth? I can’t even begin to grasp it. Even if I figure out how my life became this way, all my revelations have vanished by tomorrow. Maybe I discovered the truth last week or the week before. And I’ve just forgotten it. And if I discover it today, I’ll just forget it again. It’s like I’m in some sort of repeating hell.

“Tess.” Camila’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “I have something for you.”

I realize she’s holding out her hand. And in her palm is a small key.

“This opens the top drawer of the desk in Graham’s office.” She places the key down on the kitchen island in front of me. “Everything you need to know is in there. Go now. Quickly—while he’s changing.”

My mouth falls open. It hits me that the spilled soup wasn’t an accident at all. She did it on purpose so I would have a clear shot at Graham’s office while he’s changing.

“Camila…”

“Go,” she says. “I’m sick of these lies. You deserve the truth.”

I pick up the key from the table. I close my fingers around it. I don’t know what she’s talking about. I don’t know what is in his desk drawer. But she’s right. I’ve been searching for the truth. And this woman has literally handed me the key to everything I’ve been wanting to know.

I leave my bowl of soup behind and follow Graham’s footsteps up the stairs. But instead of going to the bedroom where he’s getting cleaned up and changed, I stop at the room before it. His office.

The door is ajar. He had been working there before lunch and probably planned to come back. I tap it open, taking in the sight of his large bookcase, the leather loveseat, and the mahogany desk.

I close the door behind me.

Graham’s desk is in the corner of the room. There are several drawers, all closed. I try them, one by one. They’re all filled with papers, probably related to the company. When I finally get to the top right drawer, it doesn’t open.

Then I notice it has a keyhole the same size as my little key.

Before I can fit my key into the lock, my phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out—the number I dialed this morning is flashing on the screen. It’s Harry. I don’t have much time, but I take the call anyway.

“Tess,” he gasps. “I… I just saw your father…”

“Hang on—there’s something I need to tell you.” I look down at the key in my sweaty hand. “Harry, Camila gave me the key to Graham’s desk drawer. She said there’s something in there I need to see. So I’m up in his office while he’s changing.”

“Tess…” His voice is shaky and quiet. “Don’t open that drawer.”

“What?” Did I hear him correctly? “You don’t understand. Whatever he’s been keeping from me, it’s in this drawer. If he’s been drugging me or… look, I’ve got the key in my hand. I’m going to open it right now.”

“No. No. Look, can you just…” He sounds almost frantic now. “I’m driving over to your house right now. Can you wait? I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Don’t open the drawer.”

“In ten minutes, he’ll have figured out I’m in here!” I hiss into the phone. “This is my only chance. What’s wrong with you?”

“Tess, please… I’m begging you… just wait…”

I let out a huff. “Forget it, Harry.”

Before he can protest again, I hang up the phone. I sense now that this is what I’ve been waiting for. For weeks—maybe months. The answer to my questions. The truth, like Camila said. Why is this happening to me? Why is Graham doing this to me? How do I get out of here? I’m going to get the answer, and this time I’m not going to forget it so easily. Never again.