Because when I try to reach for my life, really reach for it, there are gaps.
Huge ones.
Sharp ache hits me out of nowhere as I search through my memories.
The day before the conference. I remember leaving the house. I remember seeing Dominic in the back. I remember the blonde woman kissing him.
But before that? Nothing but darkness.
I try harder.
What was I doing earlier that day? What was I wearing? What did I eat for breakfast? My mind draws a blank.
A hollow space where something should be. Panic creeps into my chest as I search deeper. My childhood. My parents. Their faces, I can’t see them. I try to picture my mother. Her smile. Her voice. Nothing comes. Just empty fog. My breathing becomes uneven. Why can’t I remember? Why does it feel like I’m searching through someone else’s life?
Because it wasn’t mine. The thought hits me so suddenly it makes my knees weak. It was Era’s. Not mine.
Dominic suddenly reaches into his coat. “I need to show you something.”
Before I can react, he pulls out a small notebook. My stomach turns over on itself. I recognize it instantly. My hands begin trembling as he places it in front of me.
“You wrote in this every day,” he says softly. “Your diary.”
I take it slowly. The pages are worn, the edges softened from being opened again and again. My fingers shake as I flip the first page.
Tuesday
The handwriting is familiar.
But it doesn’t feel like mine.
Dom burned the pancakes again this morning.
A small smiley face sits beside the words.
He tries so hard though, so I ate them anyway. They tasted like charcoal but I told him they were perfect.
Chest pain slices through me, quick and precise.
Sometimes I watch him cooking and think about what our kids might look like one day.
Would they have his eyes?
I hope they do.
The words blur as tears fill my eyes as I turn the page.
Wednesday
Dom worked late again tonight.
I waited up because he always pretends he’s not tired when he comes home.
I made him tea.
He fell asleep halfway through drinking it.
I think I love him more when he doesn’t know I’m watching.