His eyes flew open as his alarm clock sounded. He layed in his bed in shock. Turning his head to the left, he looks at the calender on the nightstand. It was the day after the crash. It worked. The bomb reset everything. That he remembered.
Did he even go to Aulstralia? He struggles to recollect the memory. Yes, on vacation. Not the original reason, which in itself seemed like a distant memory. If that much had changed, what else? Who was he know, what kind of person?
He gets up and stumbles into the shower. He turns on the water and gets in, laughing as the hot water hits him. It feels like forever since he was able to do this. His mind wanders and gets stuck, only focusing on is her? Is she even alive? Or back there in that grave?
He gets out and wraps a towel around himself and looks up into the mirror. Three years younger. He still can't get over it as gets dressed in a haze.
He gets out of his apartment and somehow knows which car is his in the parking lot. He gets in and closes the door behind him. Looks in the rearview mirror, mind a little clearer. Blonde again, no traces of the white streaks that once were or gray hair in the stubble on his chin.
Suddenly flashes of his new life come charging at him at once, the changed reality becoming clear. No more con man. He owned the apartment complex he lived in, as well as a restaurant from what he could gather.
His mind gives him enough information to head towards his business. A small place, but nice he thinks to himself. He keeps him composure as he pulls in and gets out of car and heads for the front door, hoping not to arouse suspicion. There's two young men already inside. Their names come to him in another flash.
"Hey, Kenny; Mark., He says coolly.
"Good morning, ." They answer.
He makes his way to his office and shuts the door behind him. Memories are still bombarding him. There's a bulletin board with pictures all over it. One grabs his attention. Himself and two people he doesn't recognize at first, but then they come to him. His parents. With that memory, more come to him. His mother making dinner. His father teaching him to drive. Driving. That's why they aren't alive anymore. Not because of Saywer. They died when he was nineteen, killed in a car crash. Left him all their insurance money. That's why his life is so dramatically different now.
He hears the two young men in front greet someone but barely pays attention to it, still digging in his memories for more of his family, enjoying every little thing he can recall. Then he hears approaching footsteps. He opens the door.
It's her. Her hair pulled back neatly, in a business suit. She gives him a friendly greeting with a wave and he says hello back, this time not able to hide his true emotion of shock. She looks concerned.
"You all right, sir?," She signs.
He snaps out of it. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine. just didn't sleep well.I forgot you came in today." She nods at him, and heads to her office. He's thankful his reaction was relatively mild considering the last he saw her alive was the night she died. But there she is, at her desk, typing away as if nothing happened. His new memory reminds him she works here, keeping track of inventory and anything else she can do without speaking. He hired her after she came in and basically begged for a job from lack of being able to find anything else.
Then it occurs to him as he sees the look on her face, or lack thereof. She has no memory of anything whatsoever. The realization of it hits him as he debates trying to jog her memory.
One of two things could happen. She could look at him as is he was insane at such a far fetched tale. "Hi, I'm your husband. Remember me?". Just the thought was ridiculous. The second scenario was more girm. The shock of recovering all that lost information could take a physical toll. He remembers the nose bleeds and the hemorraghing. No, not after everything they went through to save her and everyone like her who lost their lives. He had been watching her, but turns around quietly, back into his office.