How I wish I had a garden like this.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI loved flowers and tending to them. This garden was well taken care of. Trees were trimmed, and plants were watered, for there wasn\u2019t a yellow leaf in sight. A shadow blocked the warmth of the sun. I shivered while the breeze flipped some leaves and the hem of my pink dress. I never liked pink. Straightening the fabric of its skirt, my hand brushed over the white buttons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I like those, though.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cDo you mind if we walked together around the garden, love?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I snapped my head to the man, who I forgot was standing there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What\u2019s wrong with me?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nHe smiled again, and I couldn\u2019t look away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I know this smile. His name is on the tip of my tongue, but I can\u2019t find it.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nhuffed in frustration. His smile turned into a laugh. Nothing was funny, but I didn\u2019t mind seeing his dimples. He gave me his hand in a silent question. I took it because I couldn\u2019t say no to a blond man with dimples. He pulled me up. Snaking his arm around my waist, he kissed my cheek, a quick peck that sent my heart into a frenzy. I pulled away, staring at his face. These blue eyes were familiar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo I know you?\u201d I asked, breathless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A hint of his perfume teased my brain, but the memories were veiled with a semi-transparent curtain. They seemed within my reach, but I couldn\u2019t see them. He smiled at me. His eyes crinkled, adding ages to his handsome face. It was then that I saw the white hair filtering at the sides of his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, we know each other quite well, actually.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nA hint of his perfume teased my brain, but the memories were veiled with a semi-transparent curtain. <\/p>The Life He Said Was Mine<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\nI tensed instead of relaxing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There goes my chance to ask him who he is. I should\u2019ve asked that instead.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI smiled at him while I crumbled inside, dreading that he\u2019d ask something, and I wouldn\u2019t know how to answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Is he an old friend? A family? An ex?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI looked away, my eyes widening at the possibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019d be awkward.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI allowed myself a second to freak out. I shook my hands to ease my nerves, but a larger hand covered mine. I flinched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Get a grip<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\nI took a deep breath and smiled at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is a beautiful garden.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He beamed at the compliment, and I sagged in relief.
\u201cCome on. I know you want to play in the swing.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stopped in my tracks, looking between him, the house and the vast garden that surrounded us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs this your house?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stopped as well, still holding my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, it is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLovely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe wind on my face and the butterflies in my stomach whenever the swing went high never faded in my mind.<\/p>The Life He Said Was Mine<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\nSomething contracted in my chest. This was everything I dreamed of. I almost wished all this was mine, the man included.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t take credit for it though. My wife did the whole job.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A bang hit me hard in my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How lucky she is.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cShe has good taste. Not everyone chooses the traditional cozy style anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I fixed my eyes on the house, waiting for the lump in my throat to ease.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s what you always say, \u2018people have no taste nowadays\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It sounded like something I\u2019d say. The pain increased in my chest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Was his wife my friend? Or worse, my sister?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cWhere\u2019s your wife?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stopped, clutching the chain of the swing. He looked at me with a sad smile, then walked around to face me. He stopped when the only thing separating us were my fidgeting arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou are my wife.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Heat veiled my cheeks when he cupped my face. I couldn\u2019t breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m his wife?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nLike a stubborn blank page, my brain refused to cooperate, so I stared at him, blinking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He\u2019s kidding.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI searched his face for a trace of humor, but all I found was sadness. He stroked my cheeks with his thumbs, lost in his own world. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his hands around my face. He looked in my eyes and smiled his disarming smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve been my wife for thirty years,\u201d he said, eyes shining with a pride I wished I could feel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re my lover, my friend, and I\u2019ll cherish you till the end of my life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My eyes welled with tears. I wanted to believe him, but I didn’t remember him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Who forgets their spouse?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI took a ragged breath, as if the pain in his eyes was crushing my ribs. He rested his forehead against mine and whispered for himself more than for me, \u201cYou don\u2019t remember me, but I know you love me, and I love you more, Amelia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re my husband? What\u2019s\u2014\u201d Embarrassment tied my tongue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAsk away. It\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe stopped when the only thing separating us were my fidgeting arms.<\/p>The Life He Said Was Mine<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n\u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d I croaked the question, wishing the ground to swallow me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEdgar.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry I can\u2019t remember you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. It\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hugged me, even though he was the one who needed a hug.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How horrible it is for me not to remember him. My husband.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re my husband for real?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes, for real.\u201d He chuckled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI have good taste\u2014\u201d I gasped, looking at the house. \u201cDoes that mean\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis is our home, Amelia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This is my home. This is my husband. And I can\u2019t remember anything.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nTears rolled down my cheeks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTell me more.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sat me on the swing and stood behind me. He didn\u2019t push as I expected. He collected my hair in his hand, brushing it with his fingers, and weaving it into a French braid,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He said, \u201cWhat do you want to know?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWere we happy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe are.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow did we meet?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIn your sister\u2019s house. She set us up on a blind date.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded, taking everything in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou were late,\u201d he said, a smile in his voice. \u201cBut when you came, you took my breath away. I couldn\u2019t say a word the whole evening.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo.\u201d I laughed. \u201cYou\u2019re kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s true. I glued my eyes on the News channel like my life depended on it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I turned my head to him, still not believing. The way he looked at me, smiling with the sun shining through the leaves of the tree was familiar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can\u2019t imagine you as a shy person.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not. I don\u2019t know what happened that day. You bewitched me or something, but you thought I wasn\u2019t interested.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan you blame me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We laughed like the old friends we must\u2019ve been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat happened next?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNothing. I couldn\u2019t approach you, but I couldn\u2019t forget you either. It wasn\u2019t until I was searching for a house that we met again. You were the real estate agent, and, boy, I made you show me tens of houses.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That’s insane.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI turned to sit facing him. \u201cTell me more. What was your job?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was an associate professor at the time, but I came from a business background. I had my own company.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHad?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI passed it to your kids, beautiful.\u201d He tapped my nose while I hung on every word he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m a passive associate now. Sometimes they ask for my expertise, but other than that, I just collect my money at the end of the year.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy son David.\u201d I nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\nI loved the life he said was mine.<\/p>The Life He Said Was Mine<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\nHis eyes lit up, confirming my words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDavid and Anna. They lead the company together.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy daughter Anna?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I loved the life he said was mine.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nHe pushed the swing, and I flew in the air my baby hair tickling my cheeks. Warmth spread in my chest, and I couldn\u2019t stop smiling. The swing brought me back down towards him, and a picture flashed in my head–Edgar in a black Tuxedo while I walked towards him in my white dress.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sent the swing to the sky again, and I felt like I was at the top of the world. The pride I once saw in his eyes blossomed in my chest. I loved this life he described. I planted my feet on the ground to stop the swing. I stood up and hugged him. His heart drummed against my ear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThank you for everything,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hugged me hard, and I heard him\u2026sniffle? I peeked at him. He was smiling, but the red lines in his eyes weren’t there earlier.
\u201cHi, Lucy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My sister’s gaze lingered on Edgar, asking him something with her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAmelia, this is Anna, our daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh, Anna. My daughter. You look exactly like my sister Lucy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The resemblance is fascinating.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cHow are you, Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m happy. I\u2019ve you all in my life.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Edgar took my hand. He motioned to the house and said, \u201cHow about you go inside. I\u2019ll be right behind you, sweetheart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOk.\u201d I didn\u2019t look at him. The front door was open, and I couldn\u2019t hold my excitement to see the inside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hope there\u2019s a fireplace made of stones like these walls.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nI trailed my hand over the edgy surface.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I like the earthy look it gives.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cHow is she today?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cShe\u2019s great, actually. She even remembered David.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The porch was paved with large stones. It gave the house a rustic look.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a good thing. It kills me to see what dementia is doing to her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I entered the house, and there it was–A magnificent fireplace, right where it should be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Whoever designed this place is a genius.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nIt was well placed. It drew all the attention to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was no fire in it, though. I needed to light a fire before my kids came from school. It was freezing outside. I crouched next to it. There weren\u2019t many logs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ll use these, then I’ll get more.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing, beautiful?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I jumped and turned towards the door. There was a handsome blond man, leaning against the wall. His smile was familiar, but I couldn\u2019t remember where I saw it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI should light the fireplace,\u201d I told him, turning back to my task.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s August, Amelia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThere isn’t enough logs here.\u201d I threw in the few I found.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet\u2019s go grab a bite, then we\u2019ll see about these logs, shall we?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He gave me his hand in a silent question. I took it because I couldn\u2019t say no to a blond man with dimples.<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe gave me his hand in a silent question. I took it because I couldn\u2019t say no to a blond man with dimples.<\/p>The Life He Said Was Mine<\/cite><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"The breeze played with my hair, sending a strand over my eyes. I pulled it away and frowned. The once midnight-black mane had now some white strands. I flipped my head to the side, looking at the waterfall of salt and pepper. When did this happen? I reached to brush my fingers through it, but<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":4844,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[23,31],"tags":[32,8,33,7,34],"class_list":{"0":"post-39","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-romance","8":"category-short-stories","9":"tag-featured","10":"tag-fiction","11":"tag-picks","12":"tag-short-story","13":"tag-trending"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=39"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4843,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/39\/revisions\/4843"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/4844"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=39"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=39"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/goodcompanylit.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=39"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
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