Little ones laughed while building sandcastles. Couples walked hand in hand. The world kept turning despite my pain.
It took hours for me to stand. My legs trembled as I approached the sea, but I saw them as my toes touched the moist beach. Three people—a man, a lady, and a three-year-old kid.
The girl bounced from footprint to footprint in the sand, squealing. She was embraced by the man who laughed. My heart stopped.
Marcus was the man. Ground tilted beneath me as I gasped. I kneeled in the sand, my lungs failing.
“Marcus!” I choked on the name and sobbed. She followed him as he ran toward me. Are you okay?
Do you require inhaler? He inquired softly, crouched beside me. His voice was calming, but his eyes were blank.
“You’re alive,” I said, touching his face with a shaking palm. “Marcus, you’re alive.”
He frowned. “Do you know her?” she whispered.
Shaking his head. Sorry, madam. You must be wrong.
My name is Daniel.”
It’s not! Marcus it is! My name is Lily, your wife.” Tears obscured vision.
“How can you forget me?”
A woman kneeled beside him. She said gently, “Maybe we should help her back to her hotel.”
I don’t need help! I screamed, panicking.
“My husband should stop pretending to not know me!”
Little girl sobbed and hid behind woman’s leg. Marcus (Daniel) stood, jaw hardening. “Come on, Rachel,” he urged gently, taking her hand.
The three of them left, leaving me shaking in the sand. There was a knock on my motel door that night. The beach woman was there when I opened it.
“I just want to talk,” she whispered. “Please.”
I retreated reluctantly. “My name’s Rachel,” she said.
“Until today, I didn’t know his real name was Marcus. No idea either.”
“What are you discussing?” I demanded. Three years ago, Daniel washed up near our town.
He had no ID or belongings. He was unconscious and badly hurt. I was his hospital nurse.
After a coma, he had no recall of himself. Nothing. Even his name was unknown.”
My hands reached my mouth.
Rachel said, “I helped him through his recovery,” crying down. We fell in love somewhere. Daniel accepted my daughter from a prior relationship.
She has a great father.”
World tipped again. Marcus didn’t lie about dying. He stayed with me.
He lost everything—even himself. “Can I talk to him?” I whispered. Rachel nods.
“Yes. He was shaken, but you deserve a chance.”
Silently, we drove to her house. Marcus (or Daniel) was on the couch when we arrived.
Catching my breath. “Marcus,” I whispered, approaching. Looked blankly at me.
Im sorry… No memory of you.”
“I can show you pictures,” I answered hastily, searching for my phone. I browsed our wedding, vacation, and birthday photos. I hoped his expression would show familiarity.
But he inspected the photos like strangers. I opened an ultrasound photo. My throat shut.
“We were having a baby,” I muttered. “When you left, I lost the baby.”
Sadness softened his gaze. I’m sorry you went through that.
I wish I could recall. Perhaps I’m failing you.”
The small child ran into the room and jumped into his arms before I could respond. Dad, you promised to play!
He kissed her hair and chuckled. I did, didn’t I? Rachel apologized in the doorway.
I attempted to stop her.”
That moment, I saw it. The way Marcus gazed at Rachel and the child. His look made me believe I could accomplish everything with him by my side.
But now they owned that look. I looked at the images on the walls: Marcus cradling the girl, Marcus and Rachel smiling in the sun. They were family.
His family. “No,” I muttered. “Can’t do this.”
He asked, “What do you mean?”
“The Marcus I knew died three years ago.
Your identity has changed. Your heart belongs with them. Not with me.”
Lowering his head.
I’m sorry.”
Don’t be. I never said goodbye. Now I can.”
My voice was steady despite tears.
“Goodbye, Marcus. Or Daniel. Your current self.
You have your life; I need mine back.”
The night air chilled my tear-streaked cheeks as I left the house. Finally, I could breathe after three years. His new life was not mine.
Restarting was necessary. Finally, I could live.
