Remember Me?
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“I think we've pulled it off.” He looks more relaxed than he has all evening. “Narrow escape with that alarm. Trust Jon to save the day. Hey, there he is! Jon!” I clutch Eric's arm even more tightly as Jon walks toward us. I can't even bear to look at him. Eric claps him on the back and hands him a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. “Here's to you,” he exclaims. “Here's to Jon.” “To Jon,” I echo tightly, taking the smallest possible sip of champagne. I'm just going to pretend he doesn't exist. I'm going to blank him out. A beep from my bag disturbs my thoughts, and I pull out my phone to see a new message. From Jon. I do not believe this. He's texting me in front of Eric? I quickly press View and the message comes up. Old Canal House in Islington, any evening from 6. We have so much to talk about. I love you. J PS Delete this message. PPS What did you do with the fish?? My face is burning with fury. Rosalie's words ring in my head. You just have to swat him away. “It's a text from Amy!” I say to Eric, my voice shrill. “I might just quickly reply...” Without looking at Jon, I start texting, my fingers charged up with adrenaline. Yeah. Right. I suppose you thought it was a laugh, taking advantage of the girl who lost her memory. Well, I know your stupid game, okay? I'm a married woman. Leave me alone. 266 I send the text and put my phone away. A moment later Jon frowns at his watch and says casually, “Is that the right time? I think I'm fast.” He takes his cell phone out and squints at the display as though checking, but I can see his thumb moving over the keys and I can see him reading the message and I can see his face jerk with shock.
Ha. Got him. After a few moments, he seems to recover. “I'm six minutes out,” he says, tapping at the phone. “I'll just change the clock...” I don't know why he's bothering with an excuse. Eric's not even paying any attention. Three seconds later my phone beeps again and I pull it out. “Another text from Amy,” I say disparagingly. “She's such a pain.” I dart a glance at Jon as I put my finger on Delete, and his eyes widen with consternation. Huh. Now that I know the truth, it's obvious he's putting it all on. “Is that a good idea?” he says quickly. “Deleting a message without even reading it?” “I'm really not interested.” I shrug. “But if you haven't read it, you don't know what it says...” “Like I say”I shoot him a sweet smile“I'm not interested.” I press Delete, switch off my phone, and drop it into my bag. “So!” Eric turns back to us, glowing and ebullient. “The Clarksons want a repeat viewing tomorrow. I think we have another sale. That's six units, just tonight.” “Well done, my darling, I'm so proud of you!” I exclaim, putting an arm around him in an extravagant gesture. “I love you even more now than I did on our wedding day.” Eric frowns, confused. “But you don't remember our wedding day. So you don't know how much you loved me.”
For God's sake. Does he have to be so literal? I try to control my impatience. “Well, however much I loved you then... I love you more now. Much more.” I put my champagne glass down, and with a defiant glance at Jon, pull Eric in for a kiss. The longest, most slurpy, lookhow- much-?I-?love-?my-?husband-?and-?by-?the-?way-?we-?havegreat- sex kiss. At one point Eric tries to draw back, but I clamp tighter, pinning his face to mine. At last, when I think I might suffocate, I release him, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and look around the emptying room. Jon has gone.
Chapter 15
My marriage. That's my priority. From now on I'm going to focus on my relationship with Eric, and nothing else. I'm still a bit shaken the next morning, as I go into the kitchen for breakfast and take the jug of green juice out of the fridge. I must have been crazy last night. I have the dream husband, handed to me on a plate. Why would I jeopardize that? Why would I kiss some guy in the back bedroom, whatever his story was? I pour a little green juice into a glass and swirl it around to look like dregs, which is what I do every morning. (I can't drink that pond-?weed stuff. But neither can I disappoint Eric, who thinks green juice is almost as great as loft-?style living.) Then I take a boiled egg from the pan and pour myself a cup of tea from the pot that Gianna made earlier. I'm really getting into this low-?carb start to the day. I have a boiled egg, bacon, or egg-?white omelette every morning without fail.
And then sometimes a bagel on the way to work. Just if I'm starving. As I sit down, the kitchen seems calm and tranquil. But I'm still jittery. What if I'd taken things further with Jon? What if Eric had found out? I could have wrecked everything. I've only had this marriage for a few weeksand already I'm risking it. I need to cherish it. Like a yucca plant. “Morning!” Eric breezes into the kitchen in a blue shirt, looking ebullient. I'm not surprised. Last night's launch was the best they've ever had, apparently. “Sleep well?” “Great, thanks!” We're not sharing a bedroom yet, nor have we tried sex again. But if I'm going to cherish my marriage, maybe we should be getting more physical. I stand up to get the pepper and brush deliberately against Eric. “You look great this morning.” I smile up at him. “So do you!” I run my hand down his jawline. Eric's eyes meet mine questioningly, and he puts a hand up to meet mine. I glance quickly at the clock. There isn't time, thank God. No. I didn't think that. I need to be positive. Sex with Eric is going to be great, I know it is. Maybe we just need to do it in the dark. And not talk to each other. “How are you... feeling?” Eric says with a cryptic little smile. “I'm feeling fine! In a bit of a hurry, though.” I flash him a smile, move away, and gulp at my tea before he can suggest a quickie against the oven. Thank goodness, he seems to get the message. He pours himself a cup of tea, then takes out his BlackBerry as it beeps.
Ha. Got him. After a few moments, he seems to recover. “I'm six minutes out,” he says, tapping at the phone. “I'll just change the clock...” I don't know why he's bothering with an excuse. Eric's not even paying any attention. Three seconds later my phone beeps again and I pull it out. “Another text from Amy,” I say disparagingly. “She's such a pain.” I dart a glance at Jon as I put my finger on Delete, and his eyes widen with consternation. Huh. Now that I know the truth, it's obvious he's putting it all on. “Is that a good idea?” he says quickly. “Deleting a message without even reading it?” “I'm really not interested.” I shrug. “But if you haven't read it, you don't know what it says...” “Like I say”I shoot him a sweet smile“I'm not interested.” I press Delete, switch off my phone, and drop it into my bag. “So!” Eric turns back to us, glowing and ebullient. “The Clarksons want a repeat viewing tomorrow. I think we have another sale. That's six units, just tonight.” “Well done, my darling, I'm so proud of you!” I exclaim, putting an arm around him in an extravagant gesture. “I love you even more now than I did on our wedding day.” Eric frowns, confused. “But you don't remember our wedding day. So you don't know how much you loved me.”
For God's sake. Does he have to be so literal? I try to control my impatience. “Well, however much I loved you then... I love you more now. Much more.” I put my champagne glass down, and with a defiant glance at Jon, pull Eric in for a kiss. The longest, most slurpy, lookhow- much-?I-?love-?my-?husband-?and-?by-?the-?way-?we-?havegreat- sex kiss. At one point Eric tries to draw back, but I clamp tighter, pinning his face to mine. At last, when I think I might suffocate, I release him, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and look around the emptying room. Jon has gone.
Chapter 15
My marriage. That's my priority. From now on I'm going to focus on my relationship with Eric, and nothing else. I'm still a bit shaken the next morning, as I go into the kitchen for breakfast and take the jug of green juice out of the fridge. I must have been crazy last night. I have the dream husband, handed to me on a plate. Why would I jeopardize that? Why would I kiss some guy in the back bedroom, whatever his story was? I pour a little green juice into a glass and swirl it around to look like dregs, which is what I do every morning. (I can't drink that pond-?weed stuff. But neither can I disappoint Eric, who thinks green juice is almost as great as loft-?style living.) Then I take a boiled egg from the pan and pour myself a cup of tea from the pot that Gianna made earlier. I'm really getting into this low-?carb start to the day. I have a boiled egg, bacon, or egg-?white omelette every morning without fail.
And then sometimes a bagel on the way to work. Just if I'm starving. As I sit down, the kitchen seems calm and tranquil. But I'm still jittery. What if I'd taken things further with Jon? What if Eric had found out? I could have wrecked everything. I've only had this marriage for a few weeksand already I'm risking it. I need to cherish it. Like a yucca plant. “Morning!” Eric breezes into the kitchen in a blue shirt, looking ebullient. I'm not surprised. Last night's launch was the best they've ever had, apparently. “Sleep well?” “Great, thanks!” We're not sharing a bedroom yet, nor have we tried sex again. But if I'm going to cherish my marriage, maybe we should be getting more physical. I stand up to get the pepper and brush deliberately against Eric. “You look great this morning.” I smile up at him. “So do you!” I run my hand down his jawline. Eric's eyes meet mine questioningly, and he puts a hand up to meet mine. I glance quickly at the clock. There isn't time, thank God. No. I didn't think that. I need to be positive. Sex with Eric is going to be great, I know it is. Maybe we just need to do it in the dark. And not talk to each other. “How are you... feeling?” Eric says with a cryptic little smile. “I'm feeling fine! In a bit of a hurry, though.” I flash him a smile, move away, and gulp at my tea before he can suggest a quickie against the oven. Thank goodness, he seems to get the message. He pours himself a cup of tea, then takes out his BlackBerry as it beeps.
