Page 29 of The Liar I Married

My thoughts are broken by the creaking of the heavy oak door.

My stomach squeezes as I see John standing in the doorway.

His expression is as composed as normal but I see a flicker of unease in his eyes.

As he steps into the room, the familiar scent of his cologne reaches me and mingles with the musty aroma of old books and polished wood. I peer at him over the rim of my cup.

“Jessie. We need to talk.” He closes the door firmly behind him and takes the chair opposite mine.

It’s surreal that this man that I love with all my heart and know so intimately is little more than a stranger.

It’s as if I’m seeing him through someone else’s eyes, as if our life together never existed.

As if it’s been one long dream—or maybe a nightmare.

I smile at him. “I’d love to talk to you, John.

I’m so lonely here and I miss my home. It’s very nice here, and I appreciate you moving me from a sterile hospital room but I want to go home. I want to be with you and the girls.”

“I know it’s difficult for you and it’s hard on me too.” He shakes his head. “It’s not that.”

He appears conflicted and John is the most decisive man I know.

I sigh. “If it’s about the papers, I’ve already told you, John, I’m not signing.

I’ve spoken to Mr. Collins and he agrees with me that I need more time before I make important decisions.

By signing them now, they could easily be challenged in court.

I have memory loss. It might never come back but I need to give it time.

Mr. Collins said I can take all the time I need. ”

“This isn’t just about the papers, Jessie.

” He runs a hand through his hair, his agitation evident.

“It’s about us and everything that’s happened.

We need to talk it out. Since you woke up, it’s as if the problems between us have magnified.

Look, I know I’m not perfect but if we can discuss what’s troubling you, we can start afresh. ”

A surge of anger shimmers through me. I have so many unanswered questions they are suffocating me. “How about we start with the reason you turned off my life support?”

“The doctors told me you were gone, Jessie.” A shadow passes over his features and his face tightens.

“They said that your brain function was minimal and, if you survived, you’d be a vegetable.

I couldn’t stand to see you suffer a moment longer.

” He leans forward, cradling his head in his hands.

“The doctors told me you’d recover after the induced coma so I insisted on many procedures to make you look the same.

You’d suffered significant facial damage in the wreck.

I did this so you’d be happy. After the last one you didn’t recover as expected.

It was my fault for trying to make you perfect again. I only did it because I care for you.”

He didn’t mention the word “love” and I finish my coffee as if what he’s saying is having no effect on me.

I keep my voice low and civil. I don’t want to fight with him but I need to get my point across or this discussion is useless.

“They obviously made a mistake, didn’t they?

It was too soon after the wreck to make a decision like that.

Brain-dead is dead, low brain function is alive.

I was in there fighting and you didn’t even give me a chance to recover, and we discussed this in length when we married.

I made it quite clear that I valued life. You disrespected my wishes.”

“I’m sorry, Jessie.” John reaches out a hand to me and then drops it. “I don’t know what to say.”

I fix my gaze on him. I feel tears running down my cheeks. I don’t want to cry. “Tell me the truth, John. I was just a burden to you, wasn’t I? You sent me here to die so you didn’t have to look at me.”

“No! I did it because I love you. I couldn’t stand seeing you like that.” He looks at me, his eyes pleading. “I blame myself for the accident.” He narrows his gaze. “Do you remember anything at all about that night?”

I shake my head. “Only hitting the tree, and that’s a muddle of bad dreams and reality.

I’m slowly remembering things that happened.

I know I was taking art classes and I met a writer named Alex.

I recall confronting my father over my grandma’s letter; from then on it gets a bit fuzzy.

I don’t have any recollection of an argument with you.

I know we had one but what it was about eludes me right now. Do you want to fill in the blanks?”

“I can’t.” John leans forward in his chair.

“I’ve spoken to Dolly today and she said the doctor is very happy with your progress but insists you should try and recall what happened.

” He stands and moves his chair closer; he sits and takes my hands.

“He said he could try hypnosis. Sometimes it helps but remembering naturally is the best thing. So I declined the offer.”

I meet his gaze. “See, you’re making decisions without asking me. I’m your wife, John, not a child or a pet. I need to know what happened. I would have agreed to the hypnosis. I want to get my life back and come home. I need my family. I need you.”

“That can’t happen, not yet.” John drops my hands. “Not until I’m sure you’re fully recovered. I can’t care for you while I’m working. It’s best that you’re here with Dolly.”

I want to get angry and slap his face but he looks so tragic.

He just doesn’t understand. “I don’t want to be here with Dolly.

She won’t tell me anything. She doesn’t discuss anything with me apart from what I like to eat.

Every time I bring up the girls, she changes the subject just like you do. Why won’t you tell me about the girls?”

“It’s complicated.” John stares at the thick plush carpet as if unable to meet my scrutiny.

“Your exact memory of what happened that night right up until the wreck is crucial to what happens next.” He lifts his gaze slowly.

“It’s not just me and the doctors who need to know what happened.

The cops are involved and it’s taken moving you here in secrecy to keep them off your back.

The doctor is protecting you to some degree but it won’t last forever.

Once they know you’ve regained consciousness, they’ll be here on the doorstep, demanding details, which you obviously can’t give them. ”

I stare at him. “The cops are involved? I hadn’t been drinking. It was just an accident.” I grip his arm and squeeze hard, my nails pressing into the skin beneath his shirt. “Why is that? Did I kill someone?”

My head spins at the implications. Did I kill my girls?

Is that why nobody will talk about them?

A pain stabs at my head like a strike of lightning as a flashback penetrates my mind.

I’m suddenly there inside my shiny bright red SUV.

I’m trembling with anger and the vehicle is weaving across the road.

Someone is shouting at me and I’m screaming back at them.

A hand closes around the steering wheel and aims me at a tree.

I’m fighting to gain control but it’s useless. I’m living my nightmare.

“Jessie.” John is shaking me. “Jessie, what’s wrong? Do you remember something?”

I taste blood in my mouth as I open my eyes.

My lip is sore from biting it. Someone was in the car with me and caused the accident.

Who was it? I look into John’s expression of concern and shake my head.

I don’t trust him. Is he worried about me remembering who was in the vehicle?

What if it was him? Why the big cover-up?

Did he try to kill me? The reason he flicked the switch on my ventilator suddenly made sense: His affair with Ms. Lawson, and my massive inheritance.

He is unaware that I changed my will, and he’d assume the old wills we made together still stand and as my husband my estate would go to him.

Everything points to him wanting to get his hands on my money.

I massage my temple willing the scene in my head to return.

I need to concentrate on the hand clamped on the wheel but the memory fades as fast as it arrived.

I look at John. He claims he wasn’t with me that night.

Is he lying? “I’m sorry. I get sharp pains in my head but they pass quickly.

I’m fine. Now tell me why the cops are involved. ”

“I’m not allowed to discuss anything about that night, Jessie.

Including what the cops want to speak to you about.

” John blows out a breath in frustration and runs a hand down his face.

“I blame myself for the accident. I did something stupid—I know that now.” A sound like a wounded animal escapes his lips.

“When the doctors couldn’t discover any reason why you were in a coma and said it was as if you’d given up the will to live, I went ballistic. ”

I reach for my coffee and sip the lukewarm brew. “I’m not surprised. Everything that was going on in the months before the wreck was traumatic. I remember most of it. You not coming home for days on end, and flaunting Ms. Lawson in my face.”

“How could you say such a thing?” John leans back in his chair and his expression hardens.

“Rebecca is my lawyer. I need her at the meetings when I make deals with clients. Taking responsibility for people’s investments in the market has legal ramifications.

” He shakes his head. “You’ve always had it in for her, haven’t you?

Maybe if you tried to get to know her, you will see she is no threat to you. ”

I shake my head and tears sting my eyes. “I’ve seen the way you look at her and the way you talk to her, I’m not stupid or blind.”

“Jessie, please, you need to believe me; there’s nothing going on between us.” John grabs my hands. “I’ve never been unfaithful to you.”

Lies pour from his mouth and I drag my hands away from him and wrap my arms around my chest. My cheeks are wet with tears and I try desperately to hold back the sobs threatening to break free.

“So many things have happened between us. How do you expect me to believe you anymore? Everything that comes from your lips sounds like a lie.”

“I know things have been difficult, Jessie, but I’m here now and I want to make things right.” Desperation creeps into his voice and he gives me his best hangdog expression.

Right now nothing he says will work. I’m angry for the hell he put me through. I was never worthy of his love until I inherited the estate. “What do you mean by ‘make things right’? You turned off my life support and now you want to control my inheritance. How can I ever trust you again?”

“Let me stay here tonight, Jessie.” Determination flashes in his eyes. “I want to be here for you to prove that you can trust me.”

I’ve wanted him to say that for so long. My resolve wavers but the doubts and fears are too strong. “Not yet, I need time to figure things but I do want you to visit me more often. Seeing you is unlocking my memories and, good or bad, we should face them together.”

“I’ll come by as often as possible.” John stood and then bent to brush a kiss over my cheek, like he would his mother. “Just don’t shut me out. Don’t forget I was there that night and I’ll be able to help you sort through the memories once they start emerging.”

He left, closing the door softly behind him.

I sink back into the armchair, despair and exhaustion washing over me.

As his footsteps disappear along the passageway, the empty room fills with the ghosts of doubts and unanswered questions.

I can’t trust John yet. Not until my mind unlocks all the answers I need.

Our conversation spins around in my head.

It’s been twelve months since the wreck and the cops still want to speak to me.

Why? I lost control and hit a tree. I search my mind.

Someone was in the car with me—or is that just part of my nightmare?

If I was alone, apart from my girls, in the car that night, who did I kill?

I push my knuckles into my mouth to stop the scream.

The reason no one will mention the twins slams into me. I killed my girls.