Page 27 of The Husband I Left

Because I meant what I said to Victoria. By the time I’m done, none of them will ever be free of me.

Chapter 8

Genny

The day before I graduate, Nancy arrives unannounced. I’m lounging on the couch in my sleep shorts and an old t-shirt, my hair an unholy mess.

“Genevieve,” Nancy says cooly.

“Nancy.” I return just as cooly, before going back to scrolling on my phone and ignoring her.

“It’s after ten. I suppose I expected you to be dressed by now.” Nancy finally says when I show no sign of saying anything else.

“You’d think, right? Some people’s children.” I still don’t look up.

She lets out an impatient huff, not used to being ignored. “I came to ask about your dress for the party. Did you pick it up?”

“Oh, yes.” I assure her.

“Good, that’s good.” She takes a seat and folds her hands in her lap. “I wanted to talk to you about your behavior at the gala. I realize this conversation is long overdue, but I needed time to, well… to calm down first.”

And there it is. The real reason she’s here.

I put my phone down and sit up a little, tucking my feet under me. “What about it?”

“That stunt you pulled—” she begins.

“What stunt was that?” I interrupt. “The one where I showed up looking fabulous, or the one where I caught your son in an affair?”

She stiffens. “You embarrassed the family,” she says, her voice cold. “The rumors, the gossip — do you have any idea what people are saying?”

“I imagine they’re saying Oliver Sinclair is screwing his assistant and his wife found out,” I reply calmly. “Which happens to be true.”

“They’re saying you arrived with another man and implied you were having an affair,” Nancy counters, her voice rising slightly. “They’re saying you’re unstable, attention-seeking, that you married Oliver for his money and now you’re—”

“Acting like I have a spine?” I suggest. “How inconvenient for you.”

Nancy takes a deep breath. “I expect you to be on your best behavior at the party,” she says firmly. “I have invited many of my friends. Wives of Thomas and Oliver’s business associates.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“I would cancel it,” Nancy continues as if I hadn’t spoken, “but that would only give the gossips more ammunition. You will wear appropriate attire, you will be polite and gracious, and you will not cause a scene. Do I make myself clear?”

I look at her for a long moment, then give her my most serene smile. “Crystal clear, Nancy. Everything will be just fine. I’ll be on my very best behavior.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but she nods once before rising. “Good. See that you are.” She pauses, then adds, “Congratulations on your graduation, Genevieve. Despite everything, it is an achievement to be proud of.”

It’s the closest thing to approval I’ve ever heard from her, and for a split second, I almost feel bad about what I have planned for tomorrow.

Almost.

* * *

“Genny! Over here, honey!”

Turning in the direction of my mother’s voice, I spot her waving frantically, standing on her tiptoes to see over the crowd. Dad’s beside her, towering over most of the other parents, his smile visible from twenty feet away. I wave back and start navigating through the throng of graduates and their families, muttering “excuse me” and “sorry” as I bump against shoulders and step on toes.

When I finally reach them, Mom pulls me into a hug so tight I can feel my ribs creaking. She’s crying, of course. My mother cries at television commercials, songs, and books; her youngest daughter’s college graduation never stood a chance.