A better accountant than him? Is he joking? Anyone would be better! At least, anyone who isn’t stealing money from me. I get another jab of pain in my temple—time to wrap this up.
“I’ve locked you out of all the computers,” I say briskly. “I alerted security, and if you’re not gone in the next half hour, they’re throwing you out.”
It finally hits him that I’m serious. “Tess. Please…”
“I also want you out of my house.” I feel the sneer on my lips. “I had Jeanne pack up your bags and I left them on the front porch.”
He sucks in a breath. “Tess…”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “You’re lucky I didn’t burn your crap. I never want to look at you ever again. You’re going to hear from my lawyers shortly. If you don’t sign the divorce papers immediately, I’m calling the police and pressing charges.”
All the color has drained from Graham’s face. “Please don’t do this, Tess. Look, this was all a misunderstanding.”
It takes all my self-restraint not to laugh in his face. “I’ve got a meeting downtown right now. When I get back, you better be gone.”
I don’t wait for a response. I’ve said everything I have to say. It feels awful enough to know that my own husband did this to me. And if I hadn’t hired a second accountant, I might never have known. He might have kept siphoning money out of the company as my punishment for making him sign that prenup. And when he got enough money in the account, then what? Would he have saved it as a nest egg just in case, or would he have up and left me for somebody like Taylor?
Luckily, I’ll never get to know.
I’m already running late for my meeting. I take the elevator down to the parking garage, and the valet brings me my Toyota. I was never interested in getting a sports car like Graham has. But maybe now I’ll treat myself to something better. Something fast and cute.
Although the Toyota goes plenty fast.
The streets are relatively empty, so I accelerate as much as I dare. That nagging pain in my temple flares up one more time, and I remind myself that pretty soon, Graham will be out of my life forever. One headache out of the way.
I press my foot down on the gas and the car leaps forward. Vaguely, I’m aware that I should slow down. But I don’t want to. I press the button to lower the windows and it feels so good to have the wind whipping at my face as the scenery zips by. Graham is going to be gone. That asshole will be out of my life. Thank God.
As my foot descends onto the gas, the windshield disappears from my view. And then everything turns white again. A second later, I’m back in my living room again. Sitting on my sofa.
For a moment, I just sit there shaking. I don’t know what that was, but something tells me that what I just experienced was the memory of something that really happened to me. I discovered Graham had been stealing money from my company （and not to mention cheating on me）。 And then I tried to leave him. Except…
Was that when it happened? Was that when I got in the car accident that destroyed my brain?
As quietly as I can, I dig my phone out from underneath the couch cushion and stare at the screen. I need to talk to Harry. I need to tell him what I remember. Except there are no other replies from Harry. He has truly decided to leave me alone.
Tomorrow, I won’t remember any of this. I won’t remember my flashback about what Graham did to me before my accident. I won’t remember what a liar he is. I won’t even remember that Harry contacted me. I’ll wake up in the morning next to Graham, and it will be like this day never happened. I’ll read that letter I wrote to myself and think this is my life. Maybe Graham will let me have my phone or maybe he won’t. But there will be nothing else.
The thought of it is like a hand squeezing my heart.
I’ve got to do something.
I run into the kitchen and grab the pen on the kitchen island. I don’t know how much time I have before Graham comes back downstairs. I take the pen with me into the downstairs bathroom and close the door behind me. There’s no lock.
I pull down my pants. On the inside of my right thigh, as high up as I can manage, I write the words:
Find Harry.
Then I write the phone number I have for him underneath.
I’m taking a chance. It’s possible Graham could spy the words I wrote on myself. Or the writing could wash away before I have a chance to see it. But I’m hoping it won’t. I’m hoping this will be a way to help me remember.
I pull up my pants and come out of the bathroom. Ziggy is waiting for me outside, panting excitedly. At least he’s happy.