Life as I Know It Read Free Page B

for me?” he asked gently. “Isn’t there lots you want to know?”
    I had questions all right, but they were more along the lines of “What the hell is happening to me?” than the sort he would be expecting me to ask.
    “Lauren?”
    Sighing, I realized that I was going to have to play along, if for no other reason than in the hope of getting some answers to this nightmare. I withdrew my hand firmly, then asked, “How old am I then?”
    My voice sounded petulant even to my own ears, and his smile wavered momentarily as the depth of the problem came home to him. I shook my head and he sighed and ran his tongue over his lips, somewhat fearfully.
    “You’re thirty-five, Lauren. We married when you were twenty-five and I was twenty-seven. We were—still are, very much in love.”
    “When’s my birthday?”
    “The nineteenth of June.”
    “No, it’s not,” I told him firmly. “I was born on the twenty-ninth of April. I wouldn’t have forgotten a date as ingrained in me as that!”
    Grant avoided my eyes and shrugged. “It’s only a small detail, sweetheart.”
    “Okay, then,” I said, taking a deep breath and trying to pull myself together. “How old are these children of ours?”
    “Sophie’s eight, Nicole is six, and the twins are just four.”
    We sat in silence while I contemplated the hideous possibility that I was the mother of four children. I’d had very little to do with children in the past. My job as a legal secretary was with a small law firm, where I did far more than just typing reports, legal papers, and documents onto the computer. I also assisted one of the solicitors by researching areas of law for cases he was working on, took dictation, and transcribed records, proofread letters and legal documents, and, more interestingly, went to court, police stations, and client meetings to take notes.
    Aspiring to become a solicitor myself in the near future, I had been about to embark on a law degree and didn’t have much time to myself, let alone to consider marriage or children.
    The memory brought me up short. Perhaps it was time to tell the truth. “It’s not that I’ve lost my memory,” I tried to explain to the man beside me. “I have memories—it’s just that they’re different from the ones you say I should have.”
    “We should ask Dr. Shakir about it.” Grant eyed me suspiciously. “There may be some medical condition that has sparked unreal memories in you.”
    I remembered the notes I had transcribed the last time I had been in the office, and realized that I could recall them almost word for word. I pictured my boss’s diary, where I had entered the times and dates of his appointments with clients and his court appearances for the following week. I could even remember what I’d had for supper on Friday evening after getting in late from work.
    “My memories are real to me,” I told him.
    Grant shook his head tiredly. “I don’t know, Lauren. This is hard for me to take in, too. I’ve been awake all night, waiting for you to come around. And the children are missing you, they’re really confused…”
    He broke off, giving me a sideways glance, and I noticed him anxiously twisting the wedding ring on his finger. I looked down at my own left hand, which because of the pain in my shoulder had been tucked under the covers. While he watched, I peeled away a corner of the white hospital tape that was holding the drip in place, exposing my ring finger. I gasped. A thin gold band gleamed back at me.
    This was one hell of a dream, I told myself, hastily covering the ring over again with the tape. But dream or otherwise, Ihadn’t missed the signs of anxiety in his demeanor when he’d mentioned the children.
    “What else?” I queried. “About the children? You were holding something back then.”
    “I was going to add, ’especially Teddy,’” Grant said quietly.
    “Teddy?”
    “Edward, the younger of the twin boys,” he explained. “There were complications at