Available Darkness Season 2

never seemed to give too much attention to details, especially when it came to things like her apps or music. Hannah figured her secret was safe, unless she gave it away with a look of sheer terror when he surprised her.
    “Just listening to some music,” she said, painting her mouth with a phony smile she hoped didn’t look like what it was. “So, who was that on the phone?” she joked, “Your other lover?”
    “Yes,” Greg took a sip of wine. He swallowed and said, “She’s meeting us later for a threesome. I hope you don’t mind.”
    “In your dreams,” Hannah said, faking a laugh and hoping she wasn’t overselling it. She lifted her glass and sipped at her wine, but it had turned from a light plum to a sudden vinegar. She winced, set the glass back on the table, then steered the subject toward tomorrow’s plans, wondering if that would be when Greg did whatever it was he planned to do. Not that Hannah expected him to announce his secret, sinister plans.
    “So, what’s on our agenda for tomorrow?” she asked. “I’d love to go shopping in town.”
    “Yeah, we can do that,” he nodded, seemingly preoccupied.
    She wondered what he was thinking. Or what sort of conversation he’d just had. Had his boss, or whomever he was talking to, told him to act sooner rather than later? Maybe Hannah didn’t even have until tomorrow. Perhaps Greg was planning to do something tonight.
    She took another sip of her vinegar.
    “Don’t get drunk. You’ll need your senses sharp.”
    They finished dinner, stretching it out another hour with reels of small talk, as if neither were in a rush to end the evening. They even ordered dessert, which they rarely ever did, a dulce de leche cake that would have tasted amazing under any circumstances where Hannah wasn’t mulling her safety or her sanity.
    Small talk turned slightly bigger as it fell to trips down memory lane. Greg asked, “Remember that time we had that really snooty waiter who kept enunciating everything in a horrible attempt at French?”
    Hannah laughed, “Oh, God, he was awful.”
    “And how he kept getting the order wrong and acting like he didn’t?”
    “Worst waiter ever,” Hannah said, smiling while trying to mine true intentions from Greg’s guarded eyes. He stared at her intently, never breaking gaze as they spoke. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking — if he was jealous of the man in her dreams, or if it were something else, perhaps a part of Greg that was there from the beginning, with her blind to his existence until now. The trip down memory lane felt like some sort of farewell dinner, which only scraped her already frayed nerves.
    An uncomfortable silence stretched across the table and forced Hannah’s wine back to her lips. She took another sip from her glass, ignoring her admonition to stay sober. As she swallowed, a glimpse of memory swirled into her head — a man with long dark hair, piercing blue eyes, staring back at her. The man she’d seen in a glimpse while making love with Greg. The imaginary man whom she fantasized about while Greg was inside her.
    “John. His name is John.”
    The name felt familiar, not just from hearing Greg mention it, but also like a name she’d dreamed of. But there was something more there, just beyond the edge of her memory. He seemed real, like a long-forgotten love. But how could that possibly be? How could she not remember someone she loved? Hannah had never had a lot of success in relationships. Hell, her luck was so bad with men, it was a running joke with her few friends in college. Though, oddly enough, she couldn’t recall a single college friend’s name through the merlot’s haze.
    Troubled, Hannah tried hard to remember her friends more clearly, but picking her brain for a minute could barely recall a reasonably hot redhead with a big mouth, her most outspoken friend.
    Carla? No, not Carla. That doesn’t sound right. What kind of friend am I that I don’t even remember people I was so close to during the best years of my life?
    “You ask this when you can’t even remember John?”
    He can’t be real.
    “If he’s not real, why is Greg worried about him? And discussing him in secret on the phone?”
    She thought of the accident and the temporary amnesia. She didn’t remember much of the hours she’d first come to, but now she started to remember bits and pieces. She’d thought of John then, too, she realized. She’d even asked Greg where John was.
    But who is