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The knife falls from my hand, landing on the vegetables. “Lunch?”
He nods, like I’m supposed to know what he’s talking about.
“I didn’t eat lunch today.”
“We met at the deli you like so much and ate those shrimp sandwiches you introduced me to when we were dating. It was like old times again.”
My body turns to ice. “I didn’t… I wasn’t there.”
We stare at each other. Concern fills his eyes. Then pity.
Peter thinks I’m losing my mind. My husband is actually questioning my sanity. Worst of all, he pities me.
“Angelina…”
“Don’t!” I snap. “Don’t look at me like that—and don’t say whatever it is you’re thinking.”
He starts to say something, but I cut him off.
“I dropped off the kids at preschool today, then I went to the cake shop to ask if anyone saw me there the other day—”
“Did they?”
“That isn’t the point.”
He gives me a knowing look.
“She saw someone wholooks likeme. It wasn’t me. And then I went to Trixie’s salon.”
“That explains the nails.” Peter glances at my hands.
“These were done today. She also saw someone who looks like me, like Chelsea mentioned last week.”
“So, what you’re saying is that a lot of people are seeing you around town in places you don’t remember being?”
“No. They’re seeing me in places I haven’t been.” I narrow my eyes at him. “There’s a big difference, and you should believe me.”
He takes a deep breath. “You think I don’t know my own wife?”
“The woman is my doppelgänger!”
“Think about it logically. Even if she does resemble you, what are the chances she has your same height and build? The person who had lunch with me today had all of that, plus your laugh. Her voice is the same. If she was some random stranger, then you couldn’t possibly have all of that in common—enough to convincemethat she was you.”
“I wasn’t there! I was busy all morning, and I can account for every step I took. You were fooled by the woman who has been impersonating me. She knows what she’s doing, to the point of breaking into our house to wear my purple tank top.”
Peter shakes his head.
He really doesn’t believe me.
“She’s dangerous. We need to get our locks and security codes changed. What if she comes in here in the middle of the night and takes the kids again?”
Stress lines appear around his eyes. “It’s time we make an appointment with a doctor. You need help I can’t provide.”
My mouth falls open. “I’m not losing my mind!”
He trudges over to me and rests a hand on my arm. “If it’s dementia, the doctor might be able to help us put it off. This is clearly the early stages, so we have the best chance of slowing it down. They’re making incredible advances in technology every day.”
“That isn't what’s happening!”
