Chapter 2

The hospital hallway reeked of disinfectant.

I slumped against the wall, with the test result sheets spread out on my lap.

The doctor didn't throw out any scary medical terms. Instead, he spoke slowly.

"Have you been forgetting things a lot lately?" he asked.

I nodded. "Sometimes I forget my keys, where I was going, or what I was about to say."

The doctor glanced at me. "It's going to get worse."

I gripped the paper so hard that it crumpled in my hand. "Will I forget people?" I asked.

The doctor was silent for a moment and said, "It's possible."

I didn't say anything more.

It was drizzling when I walked out of the hospital.

My phone buzzed with a message from Charles.

[My head hurts.]

Another one came in.

[Sophie, come home.]

And then another.

[Emily's here too. She's been crying for ages, afraid you'll misunderstand.]

I locked my phone. Raindrops hit the screen, blurring the words into a mess.

Charles and I had been soaked by rain like this before.

Back then, he was flat broke, and we squeezed into a tiny attic above an old photo studio.

The roof leaked. He spent the whole night holding a basin under the leak.

I joked, "If you ever get rich, would you think I'm too broke for you?"

He crouched by the basin, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and said, "Sophie, if I ever judge anyone, it sure won't be you."

And afterwards, he did make it.

The top photo studio in Brighton had his name shining out front.

At that time, he took down the original sign and placed it in my arms.

"Half of this place is yours," he said.

I believed his words.

When Emily came back, I even made her compotes myself.

She was sitting on our couch, wearing the infinity bracelet I'd made for Charles.

"Sophie, do you like it?" she asked. "Charles said it was too old, but I think it fits me perfectly."

Back then, I had no clue they'd already been together for a long time.

Now, when I got home, there was one more pair of women's shoes in the hallway. Pink and white, the toes still wet from the rain.

Emily poked her head out from the kitchen.

"Sophie, you're back?" she said. "Charles said he forgot what kind of soup you like, so I made it how I like it."

Charles was sitting on the couch, a cooling gel patch stuck to his forehead.

As soon as I walked in, he jumped to his feet.

"Sophie, where have you been?" he asked.

I took off my shoes and said, "The hospital."

He stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Charles asked.

Emily came over with a bowl, jumping in before I could answer. "Sophie, did you still feel upset? It's all my fault," she said.

She held the bowl out to me and added, "Don't be mad at Charles. He's been calling your name all day and wouldn't even take his medicine."

I didn't reach out for the bowl, and didn't answer her either.

Steam drifted lazily from the rim. That bowl was left by my grandma for me. I'd once taped a note to it. [For Sophie's use only.]

There was a lipstick stain from Emily on the rim now.

I took the bowl, walked to the kitchen, and poured the soup down the sink.

Emily's face went pale. "Sophie..."

Charles strode over and asked, "What are you doing?"

The water swirled down the drain, carrying the soup with it.

I put the bowl down. "She can't use this bowl."

Charles frowned. "It's just a bowl, Sophie."

I turned away. "Then let her use your bowl."

Emily started crying again. "Charles, let it go. I shouldn't have come here in the first place."

Charles grabbed her arm. "Don't go."

Then he turned to me. "Sophie, can't you let things go for once?

"I'm already this sick, and you still want me to choose between you two?"

I looked at him and asked, "Didn't you say you couldn't even remember her?"

Charles swallowed hard. Emily instantly lowered her head and said, "Sophie, it's my fault. I shouldn't have embarrassed him."

Suddenly, I felt completely drained. Not the kind of tired that made you want to fight. It was the kind where even explaining was impossible.

I picked up my grandma's bowl and walked back to my room. Charles followed me to the door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to bed," I replied.

"Let's talk."

I shut the door.

He pounded on the door.

"Sophie," he called, "I'm not feeling well today. Can you stop being so unreasonable?"

The room was dark. There was a note stuck to the nightstand. [Take medicine before bed.]

I stared at the note for ages before it occurred to me that my medicine was still in my bag.

When I opened my bag, an old photo slipped out.

On the back, there was something Charles had scribbled ages ago. [When summer comes, Sophie will give her hand to Charles.]

His handwriting was terrible back then. I traced the words with my finger.

From outside the door, Emily spoke softly, "Charles, stop knocking. Sophie might already be tired."

Charles was quiet for a moment. "She never used to be like this," he said.

Emily let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe she's scared because I came back," she murmured. "The more she's scared, the more she loves you."

Their footsteps slowly faded down the hall.

I flipped the photo over and wrote a line on the back. [Until today, Charles is still lying to me.]

Then I added another line. [Sophie, don't let your guard down.]