Chapter 3
“Itried calling him multiple times, and he didn’t answer.” Shanna cinched her phone with her shoulder while she mixed the soup on the stove. “Do you think he’s forgotten me already?”
“Give me a second to check,” Gran said on the other side. “He wouldn’t have yet. It’s barely been a few days.”
Maybe, but for some people, it only took a few days. Then again, even if she was starting to slip Simon’s mind, why wouldn’t he pick up the phone out of curiosity, if nothing else?
“Oh, no. Oh, dear,” Grand said. “He’s ghosted you.”
Shanna slumped her shoulders, catching the phone just before it fell into the soup. “So he’s ignoring me now?”
“I mean, literally.” Gran’s voice took on a heavy, sad tone. “Shanna, he’s dead.”
***
In the end, Shanna should have expected it.
Perhaps, deep in her heart, she did. She knew Simon would forget her—who in her life didn’t?
When he didn’t recognize her after waking up, she attributed that to the side effects of the ritual.
He only needed a good night's sleep, and he’d come back to his senses.
He was fully sensible now—and he still had no idea who she was.
“My wife,” he slowly pronounced. He searched her face, but those glittering blue eyes she remembered as full of laughter and mischief were now focused, pinpointed on her like a hawk’s.
A sudden nervousness rose in her stomach, as if she were a misbehaving student put on the spot by a teacher. She’d often tried to reconcile the Simon she’d met in Vegas with Simon Montague, the CEO of Aries Tech, and right now, she was getting the latter.
“You’re not my wife.” He scoffed. “I’m not married!”
“It happened quickly. We met in Vegas. Your company was having a conference, I was …” Sucking at my life, as usual. “There. We had a few drinks, then we decided to get married in a chapel nearby. The next day …” She rubbed her fingers together. “You went home and had the accident.”
He sat back down, supporting his forehead with his hand. “I remember Vegas like it was yesterday. We unveiled our newest phone.” He stared into the distance. “I’d remember if I got freaking married that night!”
Shanna resumed her seat at the dining table, gazing at him from the corner of her eyes as her heart sank deeper and deeper.
Despite everything, despite her life telling her otherwise, she’d held on to hope that Simon would be the exception.
The one to remember her. Like in a fairytale, their love would be too strong, even for her curse.
Some would call her a fool for believing in such love.
Those people would be right. She was a fool—not just for believing in fairytales, but for thinking one drinking date with a handsome, funny guy would end her curse.
“We both drank,” she said, hating how close her voice came to breaking.
“I suppose we did some stupid things. Can’t blame you for forgetting.
” The words about her curse hung on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t utter them.
Perhaps, if it were the Simon from that night, she would.
With him, she’d have gone to the end of the world.
“I can’t believe it.”
She got up and rummaged through her bag left on the sofa.
She brought back the marriage certificate and their photo—hugging and laughing under the flower arch, he in his rumpled business clothes, she in the cheap taffeta wedding dress she’d gotten from the girl in the bathroom, both drowning in golden confetti.
Simon stared at the photo and the certificate as she put them in front of him. “Fake,” he said. “Photoshopped.” But he narrowed his eyes, inspecting the photo as if he didn’t quite believe his own words.
“I have the actual paperwork, too.” She followed with the contract. “If you still don’t want to believe it, I don’t know how else to prove it.”
His eyes continued to narrow as he read through the contract, then gazed at the picture again. “This—”
A bang rattled the front door, and it burst open as Jinx rushed into the room.
Of all the tricks she’d tried to teach her dog, door opening had not been one of them—and of course, it would be the one he’d mastered.
Jinx tilted his head and perked his ears. Simon twisted in his chair, and as if Jinx had been given a signal, he sped toward him, tail wagging in full circles like a helicopter about to take off. With a leap, he jumped at Simon, who reacted just in time to catch Jinx’s front paws. “Whoa, boy!”
“Jinx!” Shanna clapped her thighs, but it was useless—Simon was the center of Jinx’s universe.
“All right now, take it easy.” Simon scratched Jinx behind the ears, still leaning away. “Uh … Jinx.” He tilted his head and frowned. “Jinx?”
“Yes, that’s his name,” Shanna said.
Simon ignored her, continuing to stare at Jinx. “I remember this dog. But he was a puppy.”
“He was four months old back then, yes.” She hated that she immediately regained a sliver of hope. If he remembered Jinx, maybe he would—
“But why do I remember the dog and not you? If I were that drunk, I’d have forgotten everything.”
She swallowed, forcing her voice into a more cheerful tone. “Oh, who knows. Strange are the effects of alcohol.” As he continued to pet Jinx, she asked, “So you believe me now?”
“It’s so bizarre. I remember Vegas. I remember the color of the carpet in the casino, which floor the auditorium was on, I remember playing with this puppy by the Golden Luck Fountain …
” His eyes softened a touch. “But everything you say—drinking with you, marrying you, you … I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”
There wasn’t as much regret behind that I’m sorry as she wished for, but it was all moot, anyway. No amount of regret would bring that Simon back.
And perhaps it was time for her to finally let him go.
She collected his coffee mug and headed for the kitchen counter.
“Your stuff is in the box over there.” She pointed to the woven storage box next to the front entrance.
“Your wallet and clothes—well, Raleigh’s clothes, so you might not like them.
If you want, I can drive you into town to buy anything else you need. And then you can … leave.”
“Thanks.” He checked the box, scowling as he pulled out a leather biker jacket. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”
Shanna nodded and turned away, absently patting Jinx.
She brought out the golden heart locket, hidden under her tunic, and brushed the worn-down surface.
For three years, she’d carried Simon’s soul in it—since the day she’d realized the mistake she’d made during the resurrection ritual.
While in it, Simon couldn’t do anything, but sometimes she felt like the locket warmed up, and she imagined it was him, trying to let her know he still remembered, still cared.
That he trusted her and waited for her to fix him so they could finally be together.
And now the locket was empty, and Simon was just a few feet away—but he could never be further.
She blinked to keep the oncoming tears from her eyes and turned back. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
***
Outside the house, Simon took a breath of fresh air and tilted his face to the sun. He didn’t think he needed it—it seemed like yesterday when he’d been out and about, enjoying life—but when the air, infused with the warm spring breeze, hit his lungs, it felt like an awakening after a long sleep.
Shanna followed him, ruffling her hair, then tying it back into a loose bun. She headed toward a mint green Beetle.
“That’s your car?” He followed with a delay. “Very … vintage.”
So vintage, in fact, she had to unlock it by sticking an actual key into the lock. Strange as it was, though, it fit her. In her frilly yellow tunic with a crochet collar and a skirt with a floral print in a dozen colors, Shanna looked like she could be filming an ad for this car.
Some time in the seventies.
“It’s not far to town,” she said as she opened the door on her side. “We’ll go to Ralph’s Convenience Store. He should have what you need.”
Simon opened the door on his side and bent to get in. “Good. Does he have pho—ouch!” He jerked back, rubbing the top of his head. How had he hit the car? He swore he’d bent.
“Simon!” Shanna rushed to him, eyes scanning his body. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine!” He extended a hand to keep her at arm’s length. “I hit my head on the door frame.”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.
“Let’s go.” He sat down with more care, drawing his knees up to fit inside the small passenger compartment.
The car wasn’t vintage only on the outside—there wasn’t a single sign of digital technology in here, either.
No touchscreen with relevant information, an analog fuel gauge, drum brakes …
“They didn’t have anything from this century? ”
“Huh?”
“At the car dealership.”
She rolled her eyes and put the key into the ignition. The car sputtered to life, and with a jerk—which might have been intentional on her part—they drove off.
Ralph’s Convenience Store greeted them with a fading sign above the door and a cut-out of a bear on its hind legs leaning wonkily next to it, the opening schedule hanging around the bear’s neck.
Shanna had rolled down her window as they drove along the main street and waved and greeted people as they passed.
“Morning, Mrs. Phyllis!” “Hey, Bobby!” “Lester, shouldn’t you be working? ”
Some smiled and greeted her back, but a couple only stared, and while their faces were unfamiliar to Simon, their expressions weren’t. He imagined they looked much like he had an hour ago, when he’d first seen Shanna and wondered who the hell she was.
Maybe her constant fussing—she’d tried to hug him at least twice—wasn’t because of him and the supposed connection they had. Maybe she was just friendly. Maybe she enjoyed greeting everyone, even strangers and brief acquaintances.