Page 38 of Don't Forget Me
Stephen. Past tense. It clicked into place. Why there was a brilliant manuscript tucked away in a desk drawer. Why Nick got so upset when he found her in the study.
“What was Stephen’s dream?” She needed to hear him say it, to confirm the beautiful words were by his brother.
But he didn’t. Nick calmly took out the Upwords board and the little white tiles that could spell anything they wanted them to. There was a metaphor in that, but Elizabeth didn’t want riddles and hidden meanings. She wanted answers, to know this man she’d started to think no one really knew.
Nick started his first word. W. R. I. T. E.
He probably cheated to get those tiles, but she didn’t care as long as he communicated with her. “Stephen wanted to be a writer?”
Nick’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “He did.”
Elizabeth used his W to create her own word. W. H. A.T. She already knew the answer, but she wanted him to tell her, to trust her with his secrets. This tentative friendship could be the handhold both of them had been searching for.
A thousand emotions raced across Nick’s face, through his eyes, into the creases of his brow as he fought himself, fought his words.
“Screenplays.” His shoulders fell as if he gave in to himself. “I bought this house because it was a good place for him to write.”
Reaching across the table, Elizabeth slid a finger down the back of his clenched fist, over the curves of his knuckles, feeling the tension ease beneath her touch. His fingers uncurled, flattening against the wood of the table as she wedged her own underneath, tugging his hand into hers.
His palm was smooth, something she hadn’t noticed in their two handshakes. His fingers curled around hers, his eyes never leaving their joined hands as if it was a problem he couldn’t quite figure out.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“Just someone who knows what loss feels like.”
His eyes took on a glassy quality, but not a single tear escaped as he blinked them away and met her gaze. His mask slipped just the slightest bit, letting her see a man who was no different from her.
A man trying to make his way in a world full of pain and sorrow. But there was joy too, and she made a vow to herself that she’d make him see that. They didn’t know how long they’d be here, or what happened when it was time to leave, but she’d only ever lived in the moment.
And this was no different.
“Come with me.” She stood, pulling him with her.
“Where?”
“I’m going to teach you about one of the best parts of life.”
He lifted a brow. “And what is that?”
“Swimming.”
13
NICK
Swimming.
The one word that made the hair on Nick’s arms stand on end. Liz didn’t let go of his hand as she pulled him from the house into the hot afternoon sun.
“You don’t have a bathing suit on.” He put all his effort into keeping his voice from shaking.
“Does that matter? I didn’t before either.” She shot him a grin over her shoulder. “I know you’re scared of the water, and I just want you to know it’s perfectly cool for an adult to not know how to swim.” She shrugged. “Even one who owns a lake house.”
“Li—”
“Come on.”
He didn’t have the heart to stop her when she looked so excited. Letting go of his hand, she took off running down the grassy slope from the deck, her feet thundering onto the worn wooden boards of the dock. She didn’t stop until she reached the end and launched herself into the air with a scream, her legs flailing out behind her, and he couldn’t help but laugh as she hit the water.
