I’m not sure how long I stood on the sidewalk, replaying the memory over and over. And each time I did I felt it again—a shot of absolute conviction this was real. Matt had proposed; I had said yes.
But with each replay the questions grew. Why hadn’t Matt said anything about this? And why had no one else mentioned the engagement? Despite the memory of the proposal so clearly formed, I couldn’t grasp on to anything else—had no idea what had happened next. There was no memory of telling my parents our happy news. I recalled nothing about a wedding at all—except, of course, the confabulated one I had with Daniel.
I held my hand up again, stared in disbelief as I pictured the diamond band. If Matt had put a ring on my finger, where was it now?
39
Back at Alex’s place after the run and memory of Matt’s proposal, I dug through the few drawers in her kitchen until I found an old take-out menu and pen—in my haste I’d forgotten my notebook at Jenny’s—then sat on the bed and, with a quivering hand, wrote out the questions I needed answers to.
Did Matt propose?
Where is the ring?
Why has no one told me about this, especially Matt?
What am I going to do about it?
I nervously chewed the end of the pen while I glanced at the four questions.I should call Matt and ask him outright, I thought, regardless of how messed up things were right now between us. But then what? Where did that leave us? Something had happened between the proposal I remembered and my accident, and I wanted to arm myself with more information if at all possible before I talked with Matt. So I called Jenny instead.
“Lucy! Thank God! I’ve been calling you nonstop. Why was your phone off? What happened to you last night? Why did you disappear? Are you okay?” Her words came out in a rush, and I waited a few seconds to make sure she was done before I spoke. “Lucy? Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here,” I said. I had decided not to bring up anything about Margot, needing to focus on one thing and one thing only: my engagement to Matt. But once I heard her voice, I struggled against a rush of anger, thinking of my conversation with Margot, her pregnancy, the fact she had worked with Jenny not so long ago. With a sigh I tamped it down, would save it for another time. “Why didn’t you tell me Matt and I were engaged?”
Silence. Then, “What the hell are you talking about?”
I was exasperated. “Jenny, I know Matt proposed. Irememberit. But what I can’t figure out is where the ring went, and why no one—no one at all—has said anything about it.”
She drew in a deep breath and spoke slowly, yet with conviction. “Lucy, I swear to you I don’t know anything about Matt proposing.”
Now I was silent.I never told Jenny Matt proposed? I was thrilled to be engaged.I remembered the joy of it, the way it felt when he put the ring on my finger—like the world made sense in a way I hadn’t before thought possible. Jenny would have been my first call, I was sure of it.
“Matt proposed? Seriously. I had no idea.” She sounded like she meant it. “Maybe...maybe it’s another false memory?”
“But I remember itso clearly.” All the bubbling, joyful energy that had filled me since the memory came back disappeared, leaving my limbs heavy and my stomach churning. “It felt so real,” I added weakly.
Jenny spoke carefully, gently. “I’m sure it did, Luce,” she said. “But haven’t all the memories felt real? You were convinced Daniel was your husband.”
I frowned as I listened to her. She was right, but I wasn’t ready to toss the memory of Matt’s proposal in the same box with my confabulations. “I know,” I replied, my tone carrying more of an edge than I intended.
“It doesn’t mean it isn’t real,” she said. “But for sure you didn’t tell me. Sorry, hon. I wish I could make all this easier for you.”
“Trust me, so do I.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against the pillows, my hamstrings protesting from my lack of proper cooldown after my run.
“Do you want me to come over?” she asked. Then I heard a voice—distinctly male—in the background and I realized Jenny wasn’t alone.
“Sounds like you’re busy. Who’s there?”
She lowered her voice to nearly a whisper. “Thomas. The actor,” she said. “Wait, you probably don’t remember him. I’ll text you the details, and a picture.” She raised her voice back up to a normal level. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Lucy?”
“Like you said, it’s probably another false memory. I’m going to lock it up with the others and move on.”
“Right. Sounds good,” Jenny said, obviously distracted. There was a muffled whisper as she tried to continue our conversation and also speak with Thomas the actor.
“Maybe we can meet up later?” Jenny didn’t respond, and I realized her focus had fully shifted to Thomas, and whatever was currently happening between them. “Listen, I’m going to go, okay?”
“Oh, sure. But I can chat more if you want. Just a lazy Sunday over here.”
“Go enjoy yourlazySunday,” I said pointedly, which made her laugh. I was jealous of Jenny, with her overnight guest and undamaged memory. What I wouldn’t give to switch places, even if only for one afternoon.
