Read Lost In Me (Here and Now) for Free Online

their own, and an active imagination to go with it.
    Mom adjusts her purse on her shoulder. “Try to sleep tonight. I know it’s hard, but it’s important if you’re going to recover.”
    “I will,” I promise.
    Mom turns her smile on my fiancé. “Max, would you be a doll and walk me out? I know you need to get going too.”
    Max nods, and it takes everything in me to keep the smile on my face. Effing seriously? He’s leaving me?
    “Of course I will.” He winks at me. “You know how to get me if you need me.”
    If I need him? I would have thought that was obvious.

 
    A LMOST PERFECT.
    I’m surveying my life as if from the outside, and that’s how it looks to me. Almost perfect. Sure, I have these bruises and I’m banged up from my fall, but everything else? My apartment. My business. My body. Max…
    He looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in the world. And I’m wearing his ring. I might not remember how my life got like this, but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it this way.
    I wander around my apartment, feeling a bit like a rude visitor peeping in on someone else’s life. The kitchen is clean, the refrigerator full of water bottles, apples, and carrot sticks. The freezer isn’t much better, with little more than frozen berries and chicken breasts, and the pantry is sparse. Mom brought me a half-gallon of milk and some fresh fruit, but I still need to go grocery shopping. I find a notepad on the counter and start a list:
    Grocery shopping: Bread, milk, cereal, pasta
    I stop writing and stare at the list I’ve made. These were foods I ate before. What do I eat now? I’ll have to be careful about what I buy. I’m sure I worked hard to lose this weight.
    My mind goes to the stairs again. The fall. Max’s words about low blood sugar and me forgetting to eat. Was that really all there was to it, or did I have to live on the meager basics in my kitchen to get this thin?
    I shake away the thought. If I’d developed unhealthy habits, my sisters would have put a stop to it. Anyway, however I got here, I don’t want to ruin my progress. Especially if we’re planning a wedding.
    A thrill runs through me at the thought. A wedding. I’m marrying Max.
    But as I go to return the notepad to the basket, a small slip of paper falls out.
    It’s a prescription for an antidepressant. And it’s dated one week ago. Why would I need that?
    My phone buzzes on the counter, and I tuck the script into the bottom of the basket for safekeeping before grabbing my cell. I don’t recognize the number on the display, and I’m not in the mood to chat anyway, so I send the call to voicemail.
    As I wander the living room area, I spot a laptop on the desk in the corner. I immediately open it, ready to peek into the last year of my life the way a stranger might—social media. A dialogue box pops up on the screen and asks for my password. I tap in my birthday, but it doesn’t take. I try my initials and my birthday. Still nothing. Those have always been my go-to passwords. I’ll have to ask Max if he knows what it is. Maybe I used our first date or his pet name for me.
    The bedroom is tidy, save for a basket of unfolded laundry in one corner. The closet isn’t overly full, but I have a nice collection of jeans and shirts in my new smaller size and a slew of black workout capris and tank tops.
    It’s a small apartment so it doesn’t take me long to see everything. I should take a shower and try to get some sleep. Tomorrow I want to learn all I can about my business and see what I need to do to catch up from my hospital stay. The idea of the water hitting my bruises with any pressure at all is more than I can bear, so I run a bath instead and sigh as I sink into the warm water. I release my hair from its clip and let it fall down my back.
    When it’s just me and the lulling beat of the water pouring into the tub, I let myself think about Max and what we might be doing if my mother hadn’t come over tonight.
    I