Page 223 of Override

"The guest room."

Her forehead creases. "This is your room."

"It was."

The distinction hangs in the air.

She studies the room for another moment before asking, "When was the last time you slept in here?"

I don't answer immediately. Not because I'm avoiding the question. Because I'm calculating the time frame.

"Eight months."

She turns toward me. "That long?"

I nod once. "The last night I slept in here was the night before I came home early."

She waits.

When I don't continue, she quietly asks, "What happened?"

I glance back into the room. "I was seeing someone." The statement feels more accurate than calling it a relationship. "She had been living here for several months." Maeve doesn't interrupt. "I returned from work earlier than expected and found another man in my bed." I don't dress it up. The facts don't improve with embellishment. "I asked her to leave."

Her expression softens. "And then you just...stopped sleeping in here?"

"The room stopped functioning."

She blinks. "What?"

I hear the confusion in her voice and realize I've explained it poorly. "The room became associated with a failed pattern."

That doesn't seem to help. I try again.

"I knew where everything happened." The bed. The doorway. The nightstand. The hallway. "I couldn't unknow it." So I adapted. "The guest room contained no associated memories."

She watches me quietly. "So...you moved."

"It was the most efficient solution."

She lowers her eyes. "I'm sorry."

The apology catches me off guard. "For what?"

"For making you think about..." She gestures vaguely toward the room. "...all of this."

I glance around the bedroom. The bed is still made. The dresser is still where I left it. Nothing in the room has changed because we talked about it.

"You didn't." Her brow furrows. "The memory was already there." I shrug lightly. "You just asked about it."

She studies my face, searching for something I'm apparently not displaying correctly. "You don't seem angry."

"I'm not."

"Hurt?"

I consider the question longer than she probably expects. "I was." Past tense. "Not anymore."

She nods slowly, but I can tell she doesn't understand.