JOEY
I watched the sleeping form of my wife, and I couldn't help the wide smile on my face.
She was here. Back home with me.
At long last.
It felt weird to watch her deep asleep on the bed we've shared together for years, especially considering the fact that the bed had been robbed of her warmth for years.
But she was back now. And that was all that mattered.
No matter how weird I might feel just by looking at her back in our room like she always belonged, I knew it was a good type of weirdness.
And even though I had the feeling that she didn't really warm up to the house like I expected her to, I decided not to overthink it.
It was probably a normal reaction. She has memory loss, and was of course seeing the house for the first time. Through a new lens.
It was okay for her to be…lukewarm.
Whether I liked it or not, I had to keep reminding myself that it was not anything personal.
It was due to her memory loss. And nothing more.
Lydia shifted, and I quickly held my breathe. We agreed to not rush things, which led to us deciding to sleep in separate bedrooms.
It was her idea, of course. Of course I thought it was weird. But whatever she wanted was what I had to do.
Afterall, I just got her back.
Gently tiptoeing away from her, I walked out of the room and shut the door very quietly.
I wanted to shout with joy, to throw my hands in the air and dance with reckless abandon.
I wanted to throw a party and invite the whole world to celebrate with me. Lydia was back.
She was under my roof, sleeping in my bed.
When she left me three years ago and was declared missing, I was so devastated.
My heart was torn between anger and worry. I was mad at her for leaving without an explanation, and worried that something terrible might have happened to her.
And now that she was back, I could put all of that behind me. I guess there was a tiny part of me that always hoped that she would be back.
With a wide, loopy grin on my face, I strode down the hallway and made my way to my study.
Locking the door securely behind me, I walked to my desk, unable to stop myself from unlocking the last drawer beneath my desk.
There was a single document in the drawer, and I stared at it for a long moment.
Now that my sweet wife was back, I knew that we would have to work together to coax her memory back into her brain.
And I would help her. She needed to remember, for herself, and also for my sake.
I needed to know why.
But whatever happened from this moment onwards, I had to make sure that this document remained a secret to her.
The content of the paper could very well ruin whatever it was we were trying to build back after so many years of nothing, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let anything ruin this second chance.
So I picked up the document, stared at it for a long moment, and walked to the fireplace.
The flames burned bright and high, and I could feel the hotness on my face.
Without stopping to think about what I was about to do, I stretched my hands into the fire, the document dangling from my fingertips.
The fire surged, and I watched as the edge of the paper curled into smoke.
And then all of a sudden, I snatched my hand away from the fire.
The edge of the paper was crisp from being so close to the fire, but otherwise, it was unharmed.
Maybe it would be better to keep a copy. Some part of me was so reluctant to get rid of the document, and I walked back to my desk with the paper in hand.
There was little to no chance of Lydia ever finding it out. It was going to take her a long while to be fully integrated into the house.
Besides, I had taken an effort to specifically not bring her into my study as part of the tour.
She had no reason to come in here, and even if she did — led here by chance, fate, coincidence or whatever — I was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to figure out the password to the drawer.
So the document was pretty much safe.
Still, as I placed it back in the last drawer, I could not shake the feeling of unease that was slowing seeping into my body.
Apart from getting rid of the document though, there was nothing else I could do. So I locked the drawer, changed the passcode from what it was, and eventually walked out of the study.
I ran smack into Lydia.
She was standing before the door, and there was a curious expression on her face. I was startled at seeing her there, and my surprise seemed to register on my face.
"Lydia! What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice slightly shaky.
She shrugged.
"I just decided to take a walk around the house. Look at stuff all over again," she responded.
I nodded. "That's nice. But I…I thought you were sleeping," I mentioned. My wife raised her eyebrows at me, and I tried not to shrivel under her gaze.
"Not anymore, as you can see. What room is that?" she asked.
I chuckled dryly as I rubbed my neck, trying to come up with a response that would not come off as suspicious.
"You didn't show me the room during the tour," she said again, and there was a strange gleam in her eyes as she spoke.
"I did not? That must have skipped my mind. I am so sorry about that," I apologized as I took her hand gently, trying to lead her away from the study.
Lydia didn't budge.
"Show me."
I sighed, fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose.
I wanted to refuse and say no, I wanted to find a very lame excuse and lead her away from the room. But I could not.
Walking away right now was only going to make her more suspicious, and that would not be a good thing.
Besides, the drawer was locked. There was no chance of her going all Sherlock on me and demanding to see what was in there, right?
Right.
I smiled at her as I tried to still my nervous heart and nodded.
"Alright. It's just my study. There's nothing much about it, really," I explained as I pushed the door open.
Lydia didn't spare me a glance as she walked in. My heart pounded violently against my chest as I walked in behind her, and I tried so hard not to grab her hand and drag her away from being so close to the damning document.
My wife took a long time looking around, and with each second that passed, my heart rate went higher.
After what was several long minutes of torture, she shook her head and turned towards the door.
"You have good taste," she said casually.
Relief slammed into me.
"Thank you. Do you mind…"
I was about to suggest going back downstairs when she stopped moving.
Her gaze was on something I couldn't see from my position, so I moved closer to her.
My heart stopped in my chest when I saw what she was looking at.
Lydia was looking at the drawer.