Page 48 of It Should Have Been You

“I’m going to cry like a baby when you leave.”

“You’ll find any excuse to cry.”

She sighs, smiling despite the tears I know she’s fighting. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I rest my head against hers as we simply stand, not caring that people have to step around us.

“Always,” I whisper.

We remain silent for endless minutes, allowing my heart to calm to a regular beat. It’s like she knows I need the stillness. I guess she would. There are bonds much deeper than words, much deeper than skin or blood. They run deep in the marrow of our bones.

Although we’ve only been friends for two years, she’s the closest thing to family—aside from Kim—that the girls and I have.

With the girls on my mind, I slip my phone from my bag, trying to hide the obvious glare of the light it emits at my side, but Kim has beat me to it.

Kim:Girls are good. Me and Hannah are watching a movie. Isabel is still sleeping. Try to enjoy yourself.

I feel a fraction of the tightness in my shoulders ease, but I’m still far from relaxed.

“Mrs. Ellison?”

My head snaps up.

Claire’s grip tightens on my elbow, standing straight at my side like a tiger ready to protect her cubs.

And I love her for it.

I vaguely recognize the couple staring back at me with wide eyes. He’s tall and stocky. In his sixties, maybe? The lady at his side is slender, and were his hand not possessively placed on her lower back, I’d guess she was his daughter.

“Hello,” is all I can muster because for the life of me I can’t remember their names.

Your husband would know, a voice echoes in the back of my head.

Of course he would, but my husband is dead.

“How are you doing?” the blonde asks, the golden shimmer of her dress hugs every curve, her smile sympathetic but genuine.

He, on the other hand, looks at me like I’ve committed a crime and he’s the only one not falling for my act.

I should be used to that look by now, but I’m not made of stone.

Instead, I plaster the fake half-smile I’ve mastered. “I’m good, thank you.”

“We were so sorry to hear of Robert’s passing. So sad for the family.”

I nod, slow and steady, my eyes averting to the floor.

I can’t do this.

I knew there was a chance someone might recognize me, not just because of my husband, but the family I married into. The Ellisons are a prominent name and ties run deep. Although, I knew none of the family would be here tonight—they wouldn’t be welcome—not at a charity event for the shelter their daughter-in-law ran to when their son broke one too many of her bones, but I knew someone would recognize me. Especially when there’s been whispers of me selling his shares.

The man scrutinizes me again, the eyes behind his glasses like an x-ray, trying his best to figure me out, to see what I’m hiding.

If only he knew.

The half-truths they’ve heard are nursery rhymes compared to the horror movies playing in my head.

I clear my throat and reach for another glass of champagne.

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