Ryan was ringing my phone, and I stared at it, numb. If he’d already made a decision, how long had he been keeping it from me?

He rang twice more, and I didn’t pick up. Walking down the narrow stairs, I looked around the empty bar, chairs and tables neatly arranged, bar clean and wiped-down, all ready for the evening. The little wooden cat figurine stood on the bar, next to the till; I picked it up, pushed the front door open, and sat down on the step staring dully at it, with my heart sinking with every passing moment.

Maybe this was a mistake. Please let this be a mistake. My mother, in a rare flash of tolerance and acceptance, always said that you should assume the best of people until they prove you otherwise.

A figure appeared at the end of the road. Wunderbar was stood quite a distance from the last building, and you could see people coming for quite a while before they arrived, whether they were walking down the road, or coming up from the beach. Even from this distance, I could see it was Ryan, walking fast, half-breaking into a jog for a few steps, then slowing again. I watched him approach, not really seeing him, then looked along the beach out to the sea, and back to the figurine in my hands.

“Cat!” He called when he was at least twenty feet away, out of breath. I looked at him, expressionless. “Cat, something’s come up with the investigation. I need to leave tomorrow.”

The cold, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach came back, and started to grow. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the city. I need to talk about what I’ve found here.” He stopped in front of me, breathing hard. “Look, let’s go inside, and I’ll explain—”

“And what, exactly, have you found here?” I took hold of the banister, and got to my feet, standing directly in front of him, barring his way into the bar. My heart was starting to beat faster, and I tried to keep my eyes fixed on him, as hard as it was.

He looked surprised, and reached out a hand. I stayed where I was, both hands on the banister, staring at him. “Well, it’s complicated. I’ve found something really surprising, and that’s why I have to go back at such short notice. I need to pack, but we should—”

I interrupted him again. “How long have you known, Ryan? How long have you known that the fossils were important, and this site was significant?” Please, please, let this be a mistake. Over his shoulder, out on the long, golden beach, the surf rolled in, and I turned the figurine over and over in my fingers as I waited.

He closed his eyes for a minute, and opened them again. “Cat, let me explain. If we could just go inside and talk—”

I moved to stand in front of the door, arms folded. “How long have you known?” The more he didn’t answer, the more the cold sick feeling inside me roiled and churned.

“I—look, I’ve suspected it for a while, but—” He was struggling for words.

“Ryan, I read your notebook. In your room. It says the site was significant. When did you know?”

His expression grew dark as realization dawned on him. “Wait, you went and looked through my things? How could you do that?”

“I didn’t look through your things.” I was curt, not budging as we eyed each other in front of the door. “I saw what you’d written, that’s all. Answer my question. When did you know?”

“Cat, I—” The kindly look in Ryan’s eyes I’d grown used to was gone. The look one I’d woken up to, seen as he worked, the look I’d fallen for, was gone. In its place was defensiveness, and my frustration and fear boiled over.

“Tell me the truth, Ryan.”

He put a hand to the back of his head, and stared down the road for a moment. When he spoke, he didn’t meet my eyes. “The first day I started work.”

The wind felt suddenly cold on my skin, and I realized my shirt was sticking to me uncomfortably, clammy with sweat. The first day. Before all this happened. Before—I swallowed—before we made love. My horror must have showed on my face, because Ryan stepped toward me, his hands outstretched.

“Please, Cat. I can explain. Just let me—”

I backed away from him, hard up against the door. This can’t be happening. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me.” I fumbled for the door-handle and pushed on it, almost tripping on the step as the door gave way behind me. “You’ve been lying to me all this time, haven’t you? Haven’t you?” In the sick haze I was trying to swim through, I heard someone agitated, their voice almost rising to a shriek, and I realized it was me.

Ryan followed me inside, still trying to take my hands. I backed away from him further, until I came up against the bar. My bar. I clung to it like a drowning sailor clings to a life-preserver, willing it to support my weight if my legs wouldn’t.

“Cat, I—it was a mistake, and I’m sorry. Please listen to me.” He put one hand to his forehead, and I could see he was shaking. “I should have told you earlier in the process, but—”

“Process? Is that what you call this? A process?” I spat at him, halfway between tears and rage. “What about when we slept together? Was that a process?”

“Dammit, Cat, stop twisting my words.” He turned away, and then back, and then away, and then back again. I hung on to the bar, so hard the knots in the wood pressed white into my hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Please let this be a bad dream. “Do you really think I meant to lie to you?”

I stared at him coldly. “How can I know? Were you ever honest with me about what we had—have?” I corrected myself, but right now I wasn’t sure. “Was this all just fun for you? Something to pass the time while you were away?”

He shook his head, angry now too. “Goddammit, Cat, you must know that’s not true. But right now I’m wondering what I was—” He stopped, but it was too late.

“I see,” I breathed. Every ounce of hurt was in my voice, but inside me the sick feeling was condensing into a cold fury. “I was right in the beginning, wasn’t I? You care more about your damned memories than you do about people.”

“That’s not fair. Everything I’ve done here, I’ve done—”

I carried on, remorselessly. “That’s why you don’t belong anywhere. None of this means anything to you beyond your desire to preserve things, does it?” I jabbed a finger at him, shaking. “You’ve been stringing me along this whole time, just to make things easier for yourself, so you could get your job done. Then you were going to move on, and this would all just be another one of your memories.”

He slapped both hands hard on his thighs, and the noise echoed in the empty bar. “That isn’t fair, Cat. I was going to ask you—I was going—”. His face was anguished, but I didn’t care.

“Whatever you were going to ask me,” My voice was level now, “it doesn’t matter any more. “Do you remember what you said the first night we met? That it’s better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission?” He was silent, staring at me. “Don’t waste your time begging for forgiveness. I want you out of here, now, completely, permanently. I want to,”

I paused, and in my distraught anger, I sharpened up the one word I knew would hurt him above all other, the one way I could hurt him the way he’d hurt me. I turned it over in my mind, regarding it carefully. A small part of me screamed not to do it, to instead break down in front of him and beg him not to hurt me any more, this man who I’d come to care for so much, and for whom this had all been a lie.

But most of me just regarded the word, and admired the way its edges glittered in the light.

“I want to forget you.”

* * *

He stopped moving, one hand in the air, his mouth half-open, and the hurt in his eyes was so immediate and so raw that the small part of me screamed again why are you doing this? But I’d done it now, and I couldn’t take it back.

Ryan blinked, once, twice, and for a moment I thought he was going to drop to his knees. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

I spoke again, my voice getting stronger, even though I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “I want to forget this ever happened, Ryan. That we ever happened. You took my bar from me, the only thing I felt was ever mine; you will do me this favor. I am going now, and it’s probably best if you are out of here by the time I’m back. You can leave the key inside.”

I walked past him, put the little wooden cat he’d carved for me on the end of the bar, then turned and walked out.