After You Broke Me, I Became a Star

We met the next day at the state-run restaurant in town.

Director Ellison was sitting by the window, easy to spot.

Just as Bernice had said, my face turned out to be a genuine advantage.

He barely pressed me on anything, and was even somewhat enthusiastic.

Once we'd settled on a departure date for Harbor City, he left the restaurant first.

But as I was seeing him off, I ran into Nelson.

Joan was standing beside him.

A young, handsome, educated sent-down student paired with a poised, haughty woman who never put a foot wrong in public. Side by side, they really did look like they belonged together.

I glanced once, then looked away.

I was turning to leave when Nelson seized my arm and yanked me back.

His voice came low and furious at my ear.

“Nanette, who was that man?”

“We're not even divorced yet and you're already this desperate?”

The yank sent me stumbling, and before I could catch my balance those barbed words hit me. Blood rushed to the top of my skull. My face burned.

I didn't think. I just swung and slapped him across the face.

“Nelson, you lost your memory, not your mind. Don't confuse me with yourself.”

He lowered his eyes and touched his cheek, then let out a quiet laugh.

“Who knows. You were capable of scheming your way into my life. Nothing you do now would surprise me.”

“Especially now that I've lost my memory. Makes perfect sense you'd go looking for a new target.”

Bernice lost her temper. “What is wrong with you, Nelson? You didn't give a damn when Nanette was pregnant, and now you want to play gatekeeper?”

Silence.

Until Nelson swept me with that look of disgust, eyes trailing from my head to my feet.

And spat out the words: “Lying again.”

The tension I'd been holding finally drained out of me.

Him not believing it was a good thing.

If he had, he'd latch onto me all over again. Whether out of duty or something else, the bitterness inside him would only keep growing until it towered over everything. And I already knew exactly what he'd say.

I could practically hear it.

“Nanette, you'd even stoop to using a child. Is there anything you won't do?”

First the drowning.

Then the baby.

His resentment would never run dry.

Our marriage was never going to be happy.

I'd endured two years of that life already. There was no reason to keep going.

On the way back, Bernice smacked herself on the mouth, kicking herself, and apologized to me.

“I can't believe it. All he'd have to do is pay the slightest bit of attention, or go to the hospital and ask, and he'd know the truth. Why is he so determined to believe you're lying?”

Why, indeed.

I'd once asked Nelson that same question.

But his stance never wavered, his gaze cold enough to cut, as if even a simple question from me were an unforgivable offense.

I only understood later.

It was resentment.

He resented saving me and being forced to marry me because of it.

He resented that because of me, he and Joan could never be together again.

So when someone floated that one idle suspicion—“Funny how Nanette just happened to be saved by Nelson. You don't think she did it on purpose?”

He believed it.