"I have to go,too," I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "My mom's waiting for me." It was only half the truth.
I went around the circle, giving each of my friends a tight hug, saving Ben for last. I tried desperately to keep the tears from...
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•°Corinne's POV°•
The boisterous mood from dinner had settled into a comfortable hum, but Richie, ever the agent of chaos, couldn't let it lie. He turned his scrutinizing gaze on me, a mischievous glint in his eye behind his glasses.
"Corinne," he began, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Are you a millionaire?"
The question was so absurd and out of the blue that I blinked. "No," I said with a soft laugh. "Why?"
"Is your husband a millionaire?" he pressed, undeterred.
"Richie, I'm not married," I stated plainly. A look of genuine confusion crossed his face.
"Then how were you able to afford that car?" he asked, gesturing vaguely toward the parking lot where Charles's sleek, expensive sedan was parked.
I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head. "Oh, that. It's actually my boss's car. He's a billionaire, which makes a lot of women want him, but it always ends badly for them since he's only interested in men."
"Well, damn," Richie whistled, impressed.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Ben watching me. His expression was unreadable for a moment, then I saw it—a subtle release of tension in his shoulders, a quiet, almost imperceptible look of relief. I shyly took a sip of my beer, letting the familiar bickering and jokes of the others wash over me like a warm blanket.
After the table was cleared, a waitress brought a bowl of fortune cookies. The cheerful, cliché end to the meal felt deeply ironic.
"Thank you." "Thank you."
Bill picked one up, looking at Beverly. "Like, Rogan-Marsh? Half my wife's closet is Rogan-Marsh?" he asked, sounding impressed. Beverly just nodded,a proud little smile on her face, making Bill laugh. "That's... That's huge." "That's our line.Me and my husband, Tom," Bev said, reaching for a cookie. As she moved, the sleeve of her blouse rode up slightly, and I saw them again—the faint, unmistakable marks on her arm. I’d thought I imagined them earlier, but now I was sure.
"How long have you been married?" Bill asked. Beverly deftly avoided the question, changing the subject. "Hey, we saw your movie, by the way."
I felt a gaze on me and turned my head to find Ben staring intently. I tried to read his thoughts, but his eyes were a complex storm of sadness, longing, and a deep affection that made my heart stutter. That couldn't be right. Could it?
"You did?" Bill asked, pleasantly surprised. "Oh,my God! It was so good. It was so scary," Bev gushed. "And the ending sucked?"Bill asked with a wry smile. "Yeah,it did. I'm sorry," Beverly apologized through her laughter. "That's all right."
"What?" Beverly asked, noticing Bill was staring at her strangely. "Nothing.This is just so weird," Bill stated, looking around at all of us. "Yeah." "Just all this.All these memories. People that I don't even remember forgetting." His words sent a chill through me. It was the same for all of us—a strange, impossible amnesia that was only now lifting.
