I wrap my arms around him. “Are you as excited as I am?”
He looks off in the distance and doesn’t reply for a beat or two. “Actually,” he finally manages, “I’m excited about the whole bowl of treats; our new life, the new job, new friends and growing old together, watching the girls grow up, being a grandpa.”
I smile up at him. “You’ll be a great grandpa.”
He squeezes me. “And you’ll be a mighty fine grandma. The sexiest grandma in town.”
I laugh. “Oh well, you know, there’s a lot of competition down there, lots of sexy grandmas in Phoenix.”
He trails his finger along my cheek. “Not as sexy as you.”
I smile. “Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” I tease, “granny panties and all.”
He laughs. “Speaking of which,” he starts as his fingers toy with the band of my cotton panties. “I’m loving this t-shirt and panties thing you’ve got going tonight, but I’d love to see you in that hot granny nightie,” he teases, “the one with the pink flowers.”
“The one I wear when I want to keep you off me?”
“Yeah,” he says. “You do realize it doesn’t work?”
I laugh, and bury my hand under the grey cotton of his t-shirt. “Yes, that’s why I wear it. I know it drives you wild.”
“You know what else drives me wild,” he whispers against my ear. “You, in nothing at all.”
“Well,” I laugh. “That’s pretty easy.”
And without a moment’s hesitation, I peel off my Cubs t-shirt and flash him a huge smile.
EPILOGUE
…letters.
Six months later.
Dear Mirella,
I hope you and your family are well. I’ve wanted to write to you for a while now, and have finally summoned the courage to do so.
We are very well. We’re better than we have been in ages, in fact. I’m still working, but have cut back my hours drastically to focus on Weston’s recovery and the children. This tragedy was a blessing in disguise. It made me realize how much I’ve taken Weston for granted. I need to be here for him.
Ashton and Elizabeth are doing very well at school and are busy as always. Lizzie asked me about Chloe once, and I told her you had all moved to Phoenix. Of course, she asked if we could visit. I told her it wasn’t possible, unfortunately.
I thought you’d want to know, Weston is thriving too. It’s been strange for him to rediscover his life, and everything he’s missed these last few years. At first, he was slow to process, slow to do things, and had trouble focusing. But he’s responded well to therapy and is now as good as new. The doctors are baffled by his condition and are studying his case. He was diagnosed with Psychogenic Amnesia or Isolated Retrograde Amnesia, as it is sometimes called. He still hasn’t recovered his memory, and at this point, the doctors feel it may very well be a permanent condition.
I don’t know if you ever knew this, but a few years back, Weston and I lost a child. His name was Jonathan and he was only six months old. And Weston never recovered. He was never the same after. And neither was I. We were lost. It almost tore us apart.
And now it seems we’ve been given a second chance. We are in love again. He looks at me the way he used to, years ago.
I’ve told him about Jonathan. I’ve shown him photos. The story broke his heart, but his pain is nowhere near what it was, because he doesn’t remember him. I am very saddened by this — by the fact that my husband doesn’t remember our lost child. But perhaps this is his mind’s way of dealing with the heartbreak. Weston is a man who feels more than most. He feels very deeply.
He has also been doing very well at work, falling into all his old routines, even the methodical OCD over-organizing. He’s still the same person in many ways. His partner Simon Hersch has been a godsend, keeping Weston on top of things in the midst of this unexpected turn of events. He’s also taken charge when necessary, and has taken Weston under his wing. The company is still flourishing.
Not too long after his accident, I was rummaging through his office to get a few things for him and I found a framed photo of you and a CD of photos. I must tell you I’ve destroyed them. I don’t want him to remember you. I’m