Almost as if he was waiting for me to remember something.
I should have been suspicious.
Instead, I convinced myself there was a simpler explanation.
He liked me.
And, if I was being honest, I was beginning to like him too.
After I left the hospital, Richard stayed in my life.
Our relationship moved quickly.
A few months later, he proposed.
I said yes.
Our wedding was everything I’d dreamed of—beautiful flowers, soft music, friends laughing beneath glowing lights.
For most of the evening, I truly believed I’d finally found the happiness I deserved.
Except Richard was acting strangely.
During dinner, his hand shook so badly that wine spilled over the rim of his glass.
Later, while everyone danced, I noticed he’d disappeared.
I found him alone on the terrace, staring into the darkness.
He was drunk.
Much more drunk than I’d realized.
“What’s wrong with you tonight?” I asked.
