Until We Are Gone
Releasing July 30, 2018
The man grabs my hand and laces his fingers with mine, careful not to jostle the IV. Nothing about his hand is familiar, and I’m left wondering if it’s okay to be touching at all.
“Who are you?” I ask him, wondering why he still hasn’t told me his name. If he’s someone who saved me, then I want to know. I need to know. “Are you the pilot?”
He sucks in a breath, and the tears flow harder down his cheeks. There’s a long, uncomfortable pause, and he barely blinks.
A few seconds later, he clears his throat and says, “Cash. I’m Cash. Your husband.”
I search his face for anything familiar. A dimple. A wrinkle. Maybe a freckle. But nothing about him triggers a single memory. I should feel more than this. I should have love for the man I married. I’m not sure how long ago, but we exchanged vows. Vows I don’t remember. And I’m sure I wore a white dress, probably my dream dress, and I don’t even know if it was made of lace or satin. My first Holy Communion dress was an expensive chiffon, and I hated that itchy material, so I’m sure it couldn’t have been chiffon.
Cash brushes his finger down the side of my face, chasing away a tear. I didn’t realize I was crying.
“I think I want to be alone,” I whisper.
He pauses and then lets go of me.
I wait for him to say something, but he just tucks closed fists into his pockets and stares at the floor.