Page 87 of Don't Forget Me
“Hollywood Magazine does investigative pieces?”
“Well, no. But I don’t work there anymore.”
“What?” Elizabeth leaned against the counter.
“They wanted me to return to L.A. and move on to a new assignment, but I’m not done here, so I quit.”
“What’s left here?” Nothing. There was nothing here. Only a man who didn’t remember the woman who loved him and a world who’d never really believe she’d known him at all.
“Does the name Justin Cormack mean anything to you?”
“No.” A door opened, and Elizabeth caught sight of her dad in the hall. He gave her a tentative smile as he entered the kitchen to make his coffee. He’d probably never trust anything she said again after Nick didn’t remember her. She turned away to look back out the window. “Should it?”
“I’m not sure yet, but, Liz, I’ve been investigating Nick’s accident. Something isn’t right here. My brother thinks I’m only seeing a story because I want to. I’m sort of lacking people who believe me right now.”
“Yeah? Join the club.”
“That’s why we need each other. If you really know Nick, tell me one thing. Is he the kind of person to take drugs at a charity event and get behind the wheel of a car?”
No. That was the thing. The Nick she knew never would have put others at risk like that. Himself, sure, but not anyone else. She’d seen the brokenness when she told him the results of his actions. “I’m not sure the guy I got to know is the real Nick Jacobs.”
“Or maybe he was more real than the version the rest of us know.” She paused. “Listen, Liz, there’s something here. I know it. And I won’t stop until I get to the bottom of it. Whether Nick remembers you or not, his life is on the line here. He could go to jail. I can’t believe you’d want that.”
No, she’d do anything to help him. But… “You don’t know him. What’s in this for you?”
“I have spent my entire career wanting to make a difference. It’s why I became a reporter. Writing about gossip puts only bad things into the world. For once, I want to be able to do good. What do you say? Help me save a movie star?”
When she said it like that, it sounded ridiculous. And still, Elizabeth couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips, the first in a while. “Sure. Yes. Let’s help a movie star.”
Even though to her, he’d only ever be a man, one with the same fears as everyone else. Vulnerable. Kind.
As she got off the phone with Jasmine, her heart felt a thousand times lighter. Nick might not ever know who she was. He might not remember the way he’d kissed her or how they’d shared every part of themselves. Their pasts, their fears, their hopes.
He might not ever remember what she was to him.
But she’d never forget him.
Maybe that was enough.
“All right, kiddos,” she yelled toward their door. “Time to wake up. Want to see if this momma of yours can make her special pancakes with one hand?” Her cast bumped the counter as she reached into a tall cabinet for the flour, a reminder that she may have been hurt, but she was still here.
Still with the people who loved her most.
And somewhere out there, maybe there was a tiny memory of a lake house and two lonely people who were never meant to meet.
33
NICK
Rest. Don’t put weight on your legs.
Heal.
Easier said than done.
A month after opening his eyes and nothing had become any clearer for Nick. It wasn’t a surprise, the doctor said, that he was still having issues. He did have memory problems, after all. Memory problems they said could be permanent.
He’d lost a year of his life, much longer than the weeks they told him he was in a coma. He couldn’t remember anything that had happened in the last year. Not the movie that was supposedly almost done filming but had now been put on an indefinite hold. Not coming to the tiny Florida town he’d woken up in.
