"She didn't want you to know. In her clearer moments, she sees a bit of how her mind's deteriorating and she writes about how she wants you to think the best of her so she can't tell you. Won't tell you. But one thing doesn't change throughout."
He waits as if he's waiting for me to hit him.
"She loved you, Ryan. Loved you so much. She blamed herself for the affair--"
He makes a small choked sound.
"I know. But she forgave you too. She loved you with all her heart, and she truly thought she was doing the right thing by running away. No, I shouldn't say that. She wasn't running away. She was running to where she could be happy with you."
Ryan shuts his eyes and drops his head again, then says "I'll be right back" in a voice thick with tears and bolts from the room.
I lean against the couch, my own emotions churning. She'd been so wrong but she'd been trying so hard to be right. And she loved him. I don't know if he'll ever read the diary, if he even should, but it glows with love. She adored him from the moment she met him and she didn't stop until she lost her memories.
And maybe not even then, given how quickly I fell in love with him.
I don't know what will happen now, but I'm so deeply glad I found out the truth. I'm so glad I know Donna loved him. It makes it feel right that I do too.
I sit alone for five minutes or so, then hear, "Kate?" and look up to see Ryan in the doorway. He's pale, and I think he's been crying, and the love that squeezes my heart makes it hurt so beautifully I can barely breathe.
"Kate," he says again, and holds out his hand to me.
I go to him, not knowing what he wants but knowing I'll always be drawn to him, and lay my hand in his.
We stand together for a long moment, then he says, "I should have told you about Grace. From the beginning."
I shake my head slowly. "I don't know any more. You were doing what she wanted."
"Do you forgive me for not telling you?"
I nod.
"Do you still love me?"
The roughness of his voice makes it clear how hard it is for him to ask, and I don't hesitate. "I do. I always will."
He sinks onto one knee.
My heart leaps like a startled animal. "Ryan?"
He reaches into his pocket then holds up a ring. My engagement ring. "Kate Anderson, will you marry me?"
Donna Merrill, this body, was already married to him. Kate Anderson isn't, but there's nothing I want more. "I will. I love you, Ryan."
He slides the ring onto my hand, my left hand where it belongs, then stands and pulls me into his arms. "I love you, Kate. Now and forever."
We hold each other close for one long beautiful moment then he releases me and slips both hands into his pockets. He pulls out his left hand first and presses something into my right.
As I look and realize he's given me his wedding ring, he takes my left hand and gently slides off the engagement ring. I'd protest except I see my wedding band between his fingers.
"I, Ryan, take you, Kate, to be my wife," he says softly, emphasizing my name. "To have and to hold, from this day forward, now and forever."
Tears slide down my cheeks as he eases the wedding ring onto my finger then tops it with the diamond solitaire.
His eyes wet too, he murmurs, "Your turn," and holds out his left hand to me.
"I, Kate, take you, Ryan," I begin, then my throat tightens too much to speak. I look into his eyes, see the love and the pain and the hope there, and take a deep breath. "I take you to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, now and forever."
I slide the band onto his finger. The feel of it binding us together is indescribable.
Our eyes meet and I say, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. That's the next part, right?"
He smiles. "It is. Nice job. Then comes the best part. You may kiss the bride."
He pulls me in gently, tenderly, and kisses me the same way. I wondered how that felt, the kiss I saw in the wedding video, and now I'll never have to wonder again. It feels like paradise.
When it ends, we cling to each other and my looming tears fade away. I don't need them. I have nothing to cry about. It feels so good to be in his arms. My husband's arms.
I raise my face to his. "So what happens next at this wedding of ours?"
"A bunch of speeches and eating, I guess. That's usually how weddings go."
"I'm not hungry and I've got nothing particular to say. You?"
"I'm fine on both fronts."
His eyes are intense on mine and heat's pouring from him into me. I know what comes next and I want it so badly I can't wait any more. "Then it's the wedding night, right?"
He takes my face in both hands and kisses me with such love and hunger I'm whimpering in an instant. He guides me up the stairs, kissing me on every step, then past the guest rooms and into our bedroom.
I'm about to say I don't want to be in there, in Claire's awful décor, but when I look around I'm so surprised I nearly forget what's about to happen. The room is transformed. The heavy furniture is gone, replaced by things more suited to the rest of the house, but it's more than that. Vibrant color everywhere, soft fabrics, gorgeous pillows... I recognize one and realize it was in my home office.
I turn to him, confused, and he says, "I wanted to have you in here with me. You. Kate. And all the bright colors you wear. I missed you so much. This seemed like the best way to do it."
"It's beautiful," I say. "It feels like..."
He waits until I can fight back the sudden emotion and say, "It feels like home."
"Good," he says, but he doesn't get to say anything else because I pull him close and kiss him again.
Then there are no words, except mumbled endearments and gasps for more, as my husband undresses us both then makes love to me for the first time. Every touch on my naked skin, every caress I give his, every delicious sensation, it's all new to me, and he knows it and he loves it and I love it too.
With lips and hands we each learn the secrets of the other's body, and soon we are locked together in passion and love and then my world explodes in waves of heat and joy and ecstasy and he groans and buries himself in me.
"I love you," he murmurs when his breathing has settled a little.
"I love you too. I never imagined it could be that good."
He kisses my ear. "Glad to hear it, because you're stuck with me now."
"Oh, the horror."
He laughs and kisses my mouth long and sweet.
When I can speak again, I say, "So what's next? What happens now?"
"Kate, my love, I don't know. But I can't wait to find out."
One Year Later
Ryan and I sit close together at the restaurant table.
"Think the hostess remembered us?"
I giggle. "She might have. Stuff your hands full of bread and go talk to her."
"You go."
I pretend to be offended. "I can't. It'd be inappropriate."
He pats my bulging stomach. "Baby won't mind."
"Baby's on my side, you know. Since he kind of needs me at the moment."
He laughs. "Sure, for now. But in three months, once he's out and I start buying him presents..."
I fake indignation again. "You're going to bribe our child to love you?"
"Maybe. But first..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box which he lays on the table before me. "I'll see if it works on you."
"Too late," I say, "since I already do love you."
"Maybe you'll love me more."
I begin unwrapping the gift. "Impossible."
But I realize he might well have managed it when I see the stunning amethyst necklace we spotted in a store window months before. I'd made him take me back a week later when I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I'd been so disappointed to find it gone. "You... how did you get this?"
He grins. "Went back and bought it the day after we saw it since you loved it so much. I've been saving it for our anniversary."
"You're wonderful. Thank you. It's been the best year of my life," I say.
He takes my hand and kisses it. "Me too."
For a while after our private wedding, he found it difficult to say how happy he was with me because it felt disloyal to Donna. I understood, though, and we talked openly about it, and eventually he relaxed into our new life together.
"I didn't get you anything," I say, sneaking my free hand into my purse in my lap. He's halfway through saying it doesn't matter when I find and hand him a box of my own. "Anything except this, I mean."
He laughs. "You're a devious one, Kate."
"That's why you love me."
He grins and unwraps the box, and I watch him and wonder yet again how I got so lucky. True, my memories haven't come back, and by now no doctor thinks they will. But Ryan and I have built new ones over this past year that will last me a lifetime.
The way his eyes lit up with tears and happiness when on Christmas Eve we discovered I was pregnant, our joy at the ultrasound picture that showed we would have a son, the deep satisfaction of seeing my work as Hannah's CEO help her business become the hottest thing in Toronto fashion... these are things I'll never forget.
Not to mention the pride in my husband's face as I replaced Donna's non-disclosure form with one allowing Grace to contact me after her eighteenth birthday if she wishes. I don't have many answers for her, but I'll share everything I can. Secrets cause too much pain.
That's why I insisted we admit that I'd become Kate, admit it to everyone. I couldn't hide my new identity unless I kept everyone from getting close to me and I wouldn't do that. People were shocked, of course, but within weeks they were used to calling me Kate and to occasionally having to explain a reference I'd forgotten. After six months, I legally changed my name. I didn't want to pretend to be someone I'm not. I don't ever want to do that again. I have a life I've built from scratch that fits me perfectly.
I work from home most of the time, in my gorgeous vibrant office on the second floor of a house that's becoming more colorful every time I shop. It turns out that Ryan would have liked a little more color but didn't want to push Donna into it, but he doesn't have to push me at all. I go to Toronto once a month or so to meet with Hannah, and occasionally to drop in and see how Ned's doing with what he's still calling MMC even though I sold it to him because it's just not me any more, and every time I'm there I make it a point to find something new and alive for our home.
Doctor Fern, my Ottawa therapist, encourages this, saying that the energy of the things in the house will help boost my energy and mood. Whether it's that, or the drugs and therapy and my sheer love of my new life, I'm not sure, but for the last year I haven't suffered any significant depressive episodes. I'm so grateful, and if more hot-pink pillows might keep me out of the darkness I'll buy them by the truckload.
Even Claire has come around a bit, although we're never going to be anywhere close to best friends, because she can see how happy Ryan is now and of course because she's going to be a grandmother. Jake hasn't come around, and we haven't spoken for months, but I hear from Hannah, who got over her crush on him by falling into a relationship with her web site designer, that he's doing well. I hope so. Without him, everything would have been so different. I might never have made it back to Ryan.
Ryan, whose voice rouses me from my thoughts. "Kate, it's gorgeous," he says, looking at the heavy gold money clip I bought to replace his flimsy one. "And it's engraved."
He peers at it and I say, "Where are your glasses?"
"At home," he responds, as I knew he would. He's only had the reading glasses a few months and still can't accept that he needs them. I think it's adorable.
"Shall I read it to you then, old man?"
"Fine, young but aggravating woman."
I take the clip back. "The front just has your initials."
"I'm not that blind yet. What about the back side?"
I clear my throat. "It says, 'To the one I'll never forget.'"
He reaches across the table and takes my hand, his eyes full of love and a deep peace. "Now and forever, Kate."
"Now and forever," I echo, and I feel our son kick within me as if he agrees.
FINDING MY HAPPY PACE
Chapter One
Amanda's call woke me from a sound sleep. "Do you know what he said?"
Struggling to regain consciousness, I said, "What? Who?"
"I told him I thought I might be pregnant, just to see what he'd say, and he laughed and said he'd never marry somebody stupid enough to get knocked up without meaning to."
Obnoxious on his part, and of course it took two to "get knocked up", but I felt sure James had known she was trying to trap him and had done a surprisingly neat job of sidestepping. I wouldn't have thought he had it in him.
"Megan!"
Her sharp voice startled me. "What? I'm here."
"Good. Stunned, right? I know, he's such a jerk. That's why I need your help tomorrow afternoon. He's going to his parents at three for his cousin's birthday and I want to have his stuff on the street when he gets back. I won't stay with a guy who wouldn't support me and my baby."
The non-existent baby she'd only have conceived to snare said guy. My stomach twisting, I sat up and rubbed my eyes until they could focus on the clock. Seven-fifty. I'd set my alarm for eight. How did she always manage to do that? "Amanda, I can't. Tomorrow's my race. I'm running 26.2 miles starting at seven in the morning. Even by three, I won't be in any kind of shape to move his stuff."
She didn't speak, and I sank back into bed feeling proud of myself. I'd told her clearly and without fuss that I couldn't help and why. I'd tried so many times and now I'd finally managed it. She would understand and everything would be--
"But I need you," she said, her voice full of tears. "I finally see it this time. He'll never be who I want him to be. Come on, I need you. I can't do it alone and I don't know anyone else who'll help me."
I shut my eyes, wishing I hadn't answered the phone.
I'd truly thought I was ready to confidently take care of my own needs.
The sincerity and passion in her voice told me she truly thought she was permanently ending her relationship.
No doubt we were both wrong.
When I didn't speak, because the battle raging within me still had no winner, she said, "Megan, please. I get how unhealthy this is now and I won't let him come back."
She had said almost exactly those words at least three times before. Each time she'd welcomed him back into her life. But what if this time she really meant it? "Amanda, I can't," I said, then winced at the indecision in my voice.
She heard it too, no doubt, because she told me again and again that she appreciated everything I'd done before and that this time would be different.
I held out as long as I could, but I'd grown up never refusing, the consummate yes girl, and though over the last few months I'd realized she was taking advantage of me eventually I said the one thing I knew I shouldn't.
"Okay. I'll be there."
"Thanks. You're the greatest."
The greatest sucker.
*****
I spent the morning reading and packing up my gear for the next day, including shower stuff and a change of clothes so I could go help Amanda, while regretting over and over that I'd agreed. When noon rolled around, I had a carb-heavy pasta lunch then headed out into the crisp October air to pick up my race kit with my running buddies, leaving a little early in the hopes I might get to see Andrew alone.
At the subway station, though, I lost that extra time to a long and barely moving line to buy tokens. I read my latest book-club novel on my phone as I waited, trying to lose myself in it to tune out the grumbling people around me. Did they think their complaining would help? It couldn't make the wait any shorter or less annoying for them but it was annoying the stuffing out of me. Not even my book could distract me from--
Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I looked over, and
a man who looked rather like my grandfather smiled at me and said in a befuddled voice, "Is this the line to buy tokens?"
I nodded, and he said, "Thank you, dear."
I smiled and went back to my book, but before I could get into the story I noticed the man didn't leave. Instead, he took a tiny step forward, so he was still partly beside me but also inching in to cut in front of me, and stood still.
"The line starts back there," I said before I thought about it.
"What?" The sweetly confused tone vanished from his voice in just that one word.
I looked back and pointed at the end of the line, easily ten people away. "That's where the line starts."
He gave a disgusted huff and stomped off to where I'd indicated, and I went back to my book feeling a twinge of pride for having calmly protected my place in line. It only lasted a moment, though, before my frustration over having given in to Amanda made it disappear.
I kept reading, trying to distract myself from my feelings, and eventually I got my tokens. A short subway ride and walk later, I stood with Jeanine under a huge "Welcome, MarathonToronto participants!" banner in the lobby of the hotel hosting the race expo. When Andrew arrived a minute after me, he smiled, his blue eyes warm but something in them telling me he wasn't any clearer about what had happened between us the night before than I was, and said, "Well, ladies, it's race weekend. Are you excited?"
"Ecstatic." Jeanine yawned. "Exhausted. Let's get our kits."
We followed her to the appropriate lineup, and soon we'd each picked up a reusable shopping bag with the race logo emblazoned on it and settled down in a quiet corner where we could check out our loot, especially the three most important items in the bag.
First, the plastic chip we'd each lace onto a shoe to time our progress through the race. Second, our official race bibs, rectangles of thick waxy paper printed with our race numbers and first names, which we had to wear on our shirts to prove we were registered. Third, and most exciting, our black race t-shirts.
"No wearing this shirt before the race, or during it." Jeanine shook her finger at me. "Most people consider it bad luck."
Toronto Collection Volume 2 (Toronto Series #6-9) Page 45
