I tried not to shudder when I remembered how Maya had stared at me, as if she could somehow see into my soul. I figured we were about the same age, but she seemed older, wiser and way more self-assured. Being assertive like that didn’t come naturally to me, something Dominic Martel had picked up on easily, and used to his full advantage. I’d noticed how Maya spoke, too, always direct and with certainty, and in the few encounters we’d had, I’d never heard her use a single filler word—not an uh, or an um, not even a misplaced like. She knew exactly what she wanted to say, and expressed herself so precisely, it was as if she’d rehearsed for weeks. Charismatic, interesting, sexy and seductive were words to describe Maya. Where did that leave me? Intimidated, that’s where.

I grabbed a sandwich from a small store in town and added a bottle of white wine on a whim. Back at the motel I sat on the plastic chair outside my room, absentmindedly eating food I didn’t want, and leaving the alcohol to cool in the fridge. My belt would need another hole soon if I didn’t eat properly and on a regular basis. Had Ash been the Jack I knew, and he’d noticed my shrinking frame, he’d have burst in with a giant, cheese-laden pizza, and a stack of Patti’s blueberry pancakes bigger than my head.

My face fell, replaced by the fear he’d never know me again, wouldn’t remember anything we’d ever shared. All our inside jokes and all our memories were now mine and mine alone. Losing him once had been hard enough, but a second time, especially when he was in front of me, so close yet out of reach... I didn’t think I was made to withstand those levels of heartache. I’d loved Ash more than anyone. We’d had a future together. He was the first man who didn’t make me doubt myself, who let me be me, and loved me for who I was. A good man, Fiona had said. Except he’d lied. And because of that I now doubted everything.

I sat back, pulled out my phone and was about to dive into research about amnesia before changing my mind and searching for local doctors instead, scrolling down the short list until I found the name Ash had mentioned: Dr. Adler. “No time like the present,” I said, putting my sandwich down and dialing his number, explaining who I was, and why I was calling, in ten seconds flat.

Dr. Adler cut me off as soon as I mentioned Ash’s name. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss—”

“I understand. Confidentiality and all that. But could I come and talk to you about amnesia in general? Please? I’m so lost and I don’t know what to do.”