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I look down, see a brown bag printed with Molly’s logo has appeared in front of my face.
“It’s not a Cheat Day.” But my fingers still close around the bag anyway.
“I don’t think Rebecca will mind,” she says. “Not after the news you had.”
“Self-medicating with baked goods?” I ask dryly.
Diane’s mouth curves. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
I inhale.
But then I unroll the top of the bag, peek inside. “White chocolate and cranberry.”
Diane scoots a little closer, mirroring my position. “Of course,” she says. “It’s your favorite.” A nod of her head. “There’s also an apple turnover in there.”
My mouth quirks up at the edges. “Bringing out the big guns.”
“Of course I am.”
My smile is small, I know it is. But considering the last hours, that I’ve managed to smile at all is a freaking miracle.
“I thought he should tell you,” she murmurs. “I want you to know that.”
Something like relief blooms in my belly.
At least until she says, “But I understand why he didn’t.”
I glare out at the vicious ocean, its waters turbulent and frigid. “I don’t,” I snap. “We were married—” I shake my head.
Are married, I guess, since we haven’t signed the final paperwork.
Are married since I’m not going to let my idiot of a husband fight this battle alone.
Are married because despite everything…
I love him.
“He betrayed your trust,” she says when I don’t go on, just narrow my eyes out at those ever-persisting waves. “He should have told you. Of course he should have.”
I sigh. “But he was trying to protect me.”
Her hand rests on my knee, squeezes lightly. “And in doing that he hurt you, and he undermined the relationship you have worked so hard to build over the years.”
My throat goes tight, eyes stinging. “Yes,” I whisper.
Her fingers squeeze again. “He should have told you,” she says again. “But he didn’t.” A light pat before she passes me a napkin, tucking it into the pocket of my hoodie. “Now you’ll have to decide what you’re going to do about that.”
I inhale, eyes sliding closed. “I know what I’m going to do about it,” I whisper.
She’s still beside me.
And quiet, nothing but the sound of the waves beating against the rocks, the other conversations around us, filling the space between us.
Patient.
Kind.
Like her son is…usually.
