“Hi,” Luna said.
“I texted you this morning,” Griff said. “Did you get it?”
“No. I think my phone is off.”
Luna searched the motel room for her phone.
“I just took Sam to the dog park. I’m not far from you. Want a ride?”
“To where?” Luna asked.
“To the house,” Griff said.
Luna felt like she was missing something. “Uh…”
“Don’t you want your car?” he asked.
“Oh, right,” she said. More details returned. “I can get an Uber.”
“I’ll pick you up,” Griff said, quickly ending the call.
Sam the dog was reluctant to relinquish his shotgun position, so much so that Luna suggested she take the back seat. Griff got out of the car and physically removed his giant retriever. Five minutes on the road and no one had said a word.
Luna had many questions. She started with one she thought she could manage. “What was that thing about your mom last night?”
“After our dad died, Owen told me he thought Mom might have hastened Dad’s death. He was angry when I asked her about it. What did he think I was going to do?”
“What did she tell you?”
“She neither confirmed nor denied,” Griff said. “But she was stung by the accusation. That was the end of our relationship for many years.”
“I’m sorry,” Luna said.
The subject of Vera was easy compared to everything else they needed to discuss.
“Why aren’t you asking about Scarlet?” Griff said.
“Griff, I don’t know that I’m ready to be convinced. It would change my whole life,” Luna said. “I love him. He’s my best friend. He’s my family. He’s all I have.”
Griff felt a familiar stab of jealousy. “When I met your husband, he said he’d heard about me,” Griff said.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that normal? We tell partners about our pasts.”
Both of them understood that the conversation was dangerous, but neither knew where the land mines lay.
“Why’d you tell him I broke your heart?”
“Because you did,” Luna said. “I don’t blame you. I understand.”
Griff felt a sudden surge of anger. He’d never seen her as the kind of person who could reimagine history so far from the truth.
“You ended it. You ended everything,” he said. “You just disappeared. Then you sent a text, said that it wasn’t working, something like that. I tried to call. I don’t remember everything. I know it was over. You made that clear.”
Luna rummaged through her memory banks, trying to make sense of Griff’s narrative. It didn’t jibe with anything she could recall. There were many moments of her life that felt fuzzy, but there were some things she couldn’t forget.
“I didn’t send that text or anything like it,” Luna said.
Griff felt as if he and Luna were having conversations in different realms. For fourteen years he’d wondered what had happened, why Luna had suddenly lost interest. He’d worked so hard to get over it—it never occurred to him that he hadn’t.
“Are you sure? It was a long time ago.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Fuck.”
Griff turned off the main road and continued along the canopy of trees. He pulled onto the gravel road and parked the car. He opened the back door and released Sam, who ran off into the distance. Luna and Griff got out of the car and silently followed Sam as he trotted off past the house. They strolled through a wooded area to a clearing with a small pond. It glimmered like a disco ball.
“This is what I remember,” Griff said. “My father died and you just disappeared, like you didn’t care at all. I was calling you. Maybe not that often. I was working long hours. I reached out one night. You sent that text. I gave up. I figured Owen had confided in you after I asked him about Scarlet. I always believed that you sided with him, that you couldn’t have both of us in your life.”
Rationally, Luna understood that memories were shape-shifters, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by that idea.
“I didn’t know any of that,” Luna said.
“Did something else happen?” Griff asked. “It seemed like you wanted out before the funeral.”
Luna wasn’t sure she should say anything. Was there any value in digging up the past?
“You need to tell me the truth,” Griff said. “I’m starting to feel like a puppet in my own life.”