Jesus fucking Christ, Cal. Pull your shit together.
I tried to shake off the shitty feeling. Tried to brush off the complex concoction of emotional baggage that currently sat on my shoulders as I headed to her room, reminding myself of Dr. Jenkins' advice.
Just take it slow, one day at a time.
3
Emily
It was official. I'd been snatched from my life and placed in some kind of alternate universe.
As a believer in multi-dimensions, this was the only possible explanation for my current predicament—the actual reality that perhaps I was living with retrograde amnesia was too painful to contemplate. Hence, my current fixation on the parallel universe theory.
It's either that or you've somehow lost who you are.
And that thought was even more painful and absurd than the possibility of inter-dimensional travel.
My fancy phone beeped, a message coming in.
Mother-in-law
I hear you’ve been discharged. I’ll expect to see you for lunch at the club this week.
Of all the people I’d expected to be blowing up my phone, she wasn’t one of them.
Cal drove us from the city down the coastal road toward Capricorn Cove. The city wasn't far, only an hour or so on a bad traffic day. We'd moved to the Cove the year before our engagement, the year after we'd graduated from college. I'd landed a job as a school music teacher at the local school while Cal had been forced into the family business, making the daily commute to the city for work.
If I'd ever doubted the diagnoses before, this drive cemented it—I had amnesia. The landscape looked at once familiar and foreign. New roads and houses had sprung up as if overnight, while unfamiliar businesses now resided in established store fronts making me question what was reality and what was fiction. Even natural objects had changed, familiar landmarks shaped by time and nature.
These incremental variations, some large, some small, were enough to unsettle me.
"How you doing over there?" Cal asked, hitting the indicator to take us up the cliff road.
"I mean…." I raised one shoulder in a half-shrug. "This feels a little surreal."
He chuckled. "I can imagine. I can't even think of what to point out to you. What to warn you about. I'm so familiar with everything that it's hard to remember what has changed."
I blew out a breath. "I'm sorry."
He shot me a look. "Don't be."
I bit my lip, watching the road. "Cal?"
"Mm?"
"This new house we have. Is it…."
How do I say this without sounding like a dick?
"What, baby?"
"Is it like these?" I plucked at the clothing he'd brought me to wear.
He frowned, briefly glancing over before he turned back to focus on the road. "Sorry, babe. Not sure I understand the question."
Fancy. Expensive. Tight. Something your mother would own.
"Very different to our little cottage?"
