Page 102 of One Foggy Christmas
“You can’t be that sure. From the sound of things, I’m a different person now than I was before. I have a jagged scar across my forehead and sunken cheeks. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the person you loved and married.”
“When I married you, I vowed to enter a contract of mutual decay.”
“Like, you said that in our vows?”
“No, I just mean that no matter how we change or deteriorate, we promise to love each other through it all.”
I shake my head, trying to stop my mind from thinking back to that day and what Nash said. The promises he vowed to keep that I couldn’t carry anymore.
Am I weak to divorce him?
In some ways, it’s taking the easy way out, but in other ways, it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. How do you look at a man desperately in love with you and tell him his love isn’t enough? Tell him that, despite giving you the world, you’re still searching for something more.
It’s pure torture.
But Nash let me do it because it’s what’s best for me. No questions asked. No huge guilt trip. He loves me enough to letme go graciously. I’ll forever be grateful for that. I’m not going to punish him now by taking half his company.
“I don’t want Superior Health,” I say to Stetson.
“But do you know how much money you’d be giving up?”
“I don’t want it. Take it out of the settlement.”
“I know you feel bad about how everything went down between you two, but you’ve beat yourself up about it enough. You don’t need to buy his forgiveness by giving up hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“I’m not trying to buy his forgiveness. I just don’t want it.”
It’s not mine. Not really.
I give Stetson a pointed look. “Take it out and take out the Chicago house. He can have that too. Then I’ll sign the papers.”
There’s an edge of annoyance behind Stetson’s voice. “If you say so.”
It’s the right thing to do.
I may not love Nash the way he wants me to, but I still want what’s best for him.
SADIE
I sit in thebackseat of my parents’ car, staring up at Nash’s brownstone in Chicago. Even though I know he’s not here, I stay in the car while my family loads boxes into the U-Haul trailer. All the furniture and house stuff remain with him. My dad asked Nash to pack up anything that was only mine, like clothes and belongings. Now that the divorce is final, this was the last step in severing our life together—a hard step.
“That’s all the boxes.” My mom opens her car door and climbs inside.
I hear my dad shut the back of the U-Haul and lock it.
“Let’s get out of the city, and then we’ll find a place to eat dinner.” She looks back at me with a smile. “Does that sound okay?”
“It’s great.” I put on a brave face even though sadness holds my heart.
Nash and I are really over now.
It’s what I wanted—a necessary step in moving forward with my life—but what kind of person would I be if I didn’t feel sad about how it all ended? Sad about the turn of events that upended both of our lives?
My parents said I didn’t have to drive to Chicago with them. They thought coming here might be difficult for me. It’s been easier to let them handle cleaning up the messy details of abandoning the life I don’t remember. But once Nash mentioned to my dad that he’d be out of town for a meeting the weekend they planned to come, I decided it was a safe trip I could make.
I’m not ready to see Nash. It’s all too raw.
Even though losing my memory isn’t my fault—just an unfortunate accident with sad consequences—the aftermath is hard to face.
