Page 25 of This Love
Infinity. That’s what it was. An infinity sign with a small heart.
There were words along the edges. It was hard to make them out in reverse, but I took my time.
The words read, the heart remembers.
But I didn’t.
Not anything.
I flipped the book open again to a random page.
Men can’t be trusted.
I scanned the page. I was living with a bunch of women then. I sounded upset and scared.
This I could relate to.
I flipped to another one.
Taking photos is the best! The words were above several images taped into the book.
At least I sounded happy there. Maybe it wasn’t all bad.
Another page had a photo of a long counter. A man with a heavy beard stood behind it, in front of a huge sign that read, “Big Harry’s Diner.”
Beneath it, I had written a paragraph.
Big Harry saved you. He owns a diner on South First and gave you a job, helped hide you from your mother, and gave you money for your first college classes. If you are ever in trouble, Big Harry is the one to find.
Huh. Had anyone mentioned Big Harry? This man wasn’t at the hospital. Where was he? Would he help me this time? I had no idea where to look.
I closed the cover.
I was so tired.
I wanted to be alone. Lie down. Not think anymore.
Chapter 9
Tucker
When Ava emerged from the bathroom, she’d taken her hair down.
Marcus and I stood from the kitchen chairs.
She didn’t seem angry or frightened, just tired. I had no idea what she’d read.
When she didn’t speak, Marcus said, “We made a plate of food for you. You’re probably hungry.”
She frowned, clutching the book in front of her. “How do I know if I’m hungry?”
Marcus glanced at me. He had never seen Ava in the first hours after a memory reset. You could take nothing for granted. Even though she might understand a word like hungry and that it meant you should eat, the experience of feeling hungry wouldn’t connect until she was taught it.
I needed to take the lead on this. “Your stomach might make noises. You might get a headache. But mainly, when you see food”—I held up a plate with a croissant and some cheese, leftovers from the brunch—“you want it. Bad.”
Her eyes focused on the plate. Yeah, she was hungry. I set the plate on a space I’d cleared and pulled out a chair. “Sit here. Eat.”
She did, keeping the book in her lap, her back tall and rigid, like she might bolt at any moment. She picked up a cube of cheddar and popped it into her mouth.
