Page 30 of The Husband I Left

“A mother never stops worrying about her children,” she says, smoothing down my hair as she has done since I was small. “Even when they’re all grown up.”

“We should get back,” I say, smoothing my hands down my dress. “They’ll wonder where we are.”

Mom nods, but before we can head to the door, she pulls me into another fierce hug. “Whatever happens,” she whispers, “you always have a home with us. Remember that.”

I hug her back just as tightly. “I know, Mom,” I whisper back. “I know.”

Chapter 9

Genny

I have been preparing for this day for weeks. Today is the day I make Oliver regret involving me in his games. Today is the day I repay Nancy for two years of doing every single thing she demanded of me, of trying so hard to become what she wanted me to be and still going to bed after every event with my stomach in knots because I knew that in the morning she would walk in with her notebook and there would be a list of every single thing I did wrong. Today, I set Genevieve Sinclair on fire and walk away. And I will never look back.

Everything is prepared. Kylie and Harlow each have a map of the Sinclair estate that I drew for them myself. It marks out the exact path Evan’s cousin Brock and the rest of the dancers should take. The side gate by the garage that nobody uses. The long row of hedges along the eastern wall that’s tall enough to hide a small army. The gardener’s shed. The stone path that curves around the rose beds and ends at the French doors of the dining room. Kylie will be waiting, and as soon as I give the signal, she’ll make sure the doors are open.

There’s only one weak spot in this plan, one possible place where it could go wrong, and he’s just opened the front door of the Sinclair estate. “Mr. Sinclair. Mrs. Sinclair.” Frederick inclines his head and steps back to allow us entry. “Congratulations on your graduation, madam.”

“Thank you, Frederick.” I smile sweetly at him. “You look very handsome today.”

He pauses for just a moment before replying. “Thank you, madam.”

Frederick has been serving the Sinclair family since before Oliver was born, and he takes his job very seriously. He is the one who makes sure every party Nancy hosts goes off flawlessly. He has a sixth sense for disaster and eyes and ears everywhere. He notices everything. He fixes everything before Nancy has time to notice it went wrong.

If anyone is going to ruin my afternoon, it’s him.

Oliver’s hand finds the small of my back as we follow Frederick down the hallway. I move forward just enough that it falls away. His fingers brush mine and I lift my hand to tuck a curl behind my ears. He tries again just as we reach the corner, and I make a show of digging through my purse for my chapstick. He exhales through his nose and doesn’t reach for my hand again.

The guests are all congregating in one of the parlors at the back of the house. Most of them are already here by the time Oliver and I arrive: the wives and daughters of board members or investors, or families that have been friendly with the Sinclairs for years. Women who once placed bets on how long my marriage would last. Only a very small number of my own friends were invited, and I had to threaten not to come to get them included at all.

Nancy spots us immediately. She glides across the room, her own blue silk dress a perfect complement to the one her stylist picked out for me. The one currently hanging in my closet back in the city.

“Oliver,” she kisses his cheek. Then she turns to me. “Genevieve. Congratulations, dear.”

“Thank you, Nancy.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mother and sister,” she says. “Food poisoning, of all things. I’m so sorry they won’t be able to join us.”

I can feel Oliver’s eyes on the side of my face. Oliver was at O’Malley’s yesterday. Oliver watched my mother polish off an entire basket of fried pickles and then steal half of my father’s onion rings. Oliver knows no one has food poisoning. He knows I uninvited my own family from my graduation party, and he doesn’t know why, and it’s clearly been eating at him. He’s been trying to broach the subject all morning, and I’ve been dodging his questions.

“It is such a shame,” I agree. “They were really looking forward to it.”

Oliver doesn’t say a word. I don’t look at him.

“Well,” Nancy says, “please give them my best.” Her attention has already moved on, because she’s finally taken a proper look at me. Her eyes travel from my sandals up the length of my sundress, which is a bright sunny yellow covered in small daisies. Her smile stays in place, but it becomes very strained.

“Genevieve,” she says, low, stepping closer. “That is not what we decided you would wear.”

“Hmm?” I glance down at myself. “Oh. No, it isn’t.”

“Genevieve, when I spoke with you, you assured me—”

“See, the thing is, Nancy,” I cut her off, “‘we’ did not decide anything. You and your stylist did. You picked the dress; my opinion was not asked. And I decided to wear something else.” I step back and look down at myself and say, just loudly enough for those around us to hear, “Isn’t it cute? Kylie and I went to Kohl’s the other day and picked it out.”

“It’s…cute,” Nancy agrees, although she doesn’t look happy about it. Her expression is resigned. “You look quite lovely. And I also see you decided to wear your hair down. Charming.”

“I sure did,” I lean in close to her again and lower my voice. “Can I tell you a secret, Nancy? I really, really hate straightening my hair. It takes forever, it damages it, and honestly?” I straighten back up, speaking at normal volume again. “I’m not going to do it anymore.”

Nancy stares at me. Oliver stares at me. For a moment, the two of them wear the exact same expression.