Chapter 138

Hannah

I stood there frozen, my heart sinking as Noah shook his head in confusion. He blinked, pursing his lips; this was no prank or cruel joke. He genuinely didn’t remember—just as he hadn’t remembered our meeting date.

“You don’t… you don’t remember?” I all but whispered, trying and failing to keep my voice from quivering.

Noah furrowed his brow and shrugged one shoulder as if it were nothing. “No, I don’t,” he said. “Are you sure that was us and not one of your friends? You and Viona, maybe?”

A knife twisted in my gut. No, it hadn’t been me and Viona. It had been me and Noah. Just months before our wedding. The summer I was nineteen and he was going on twenty. It had been an incredibly hot day, and our families had been preparing for the annual summer picnic. The memory of us stealing those roasted quail eggs was one I had always treasured. Years had passed, but I had never forgotten that day, not for a moment. Even now, I could still taste the sticky yolks and feel the summer breeze on my cheek. Meanwhile, Noah had forgotten it as if it were nothing more than a fleeting dream. And now he stood there staring at me like I was insane.

“Um…” I froze, my throat bobbing as I swallowed hard. Words failed me. I felt empty, like a puppet whose arms were hanging dumbly at its sides. I opened and closed my mouth several times, but no words would come. What could I even say? What could I even do?

Moments like that day we stole the quail eggs felt so pivotal to me. But not to Noah, apparently. They were just blips on his radar, nothing more than a burden to remember. How much did he remember about his relationship with Zoe, I wondered? Every moment, I guessed. I doubted he had lost even a second of his time with her to the years, but with me… Hell, I still hadn’t forgotten that he hadn’t even gotten our meeting anniversary right at that party.

“Hannah?” Noah’s gruff voice snapped me out of my daze. “What is it? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

I quickly blinked back the tears welling up in my eyes and swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. Part of me wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him, screaming in his face. I wanted to knock some sense back into him, force him to remember. But I knew, deep down, that it was no use. He couldn’t remember. Or maybe he just wouldn’t.

“Get it together,” I thought to myself. “This doesn’t change anything. You knew it was this bad.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, forcing that tight smile once again—soon, it would be permanently glued to my face. “I think you’re right—it was me and Viona. But, um… I’m getting tired. I’m going to head to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Without waiting to give either of us another chance to speak, I turned and hurried down the…