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Lucy sighs. “Your dad is in prison. Your mom…”
Here it comes.
“She died.”
Oh.
“I think I already knew she was gone,” I say quietly, my gaze on my knees. Still, it kind of hurts. A lump fills my throat. Did I go to her funeral? Did I mourn her?
What did my father do to end up in prison?
“Did I… where was I when she passed?”
They both hesitate.
“What?”
“We don’t know where you went,” Lucy says. She grips my hand harder. “You weren’t at her funeral. Her sister organized the whole thing, but you were off the grid.”
Where was I?
“And before that?”
“Teaching.” Lucy brightens. “You were a college professor. English.”
“I feel like my mind just keeps getting blown,” I whisper.
“Your undergrad college hired you first. That’s where you were living when you met…” Lucy stops.
“Please.” Jesus, I’m practically begging.
“Henry,” Theo says from the front. His voice is colder, the disdain evident. “That’s where you met Henry.”
The name doesn’t ring a bell. I shrug, shaking my head.
Lucy groans. “This is not where I wanted the conversation to go. I wanted to talk aboutus. How much fun we would have together. Not… this.”
“Whatisthis?” I glance at the driver, who’s studiously ignoring us. “Lucy, I know I don’t know you, but you know me. Would I bury my head in the sand over this?”
Her face falls.
“Yeah, Mel. You would.”
That stings more than I anticipated.
Iwasa coward.
Deep down, I knew that. I had figured it out weeks ago. But now, it’s just a matter of changing my own perspective. This is a fresh start, and I can choose to be braver.
“Tell me.”
“You met, and fell in love with, a man named Henry Armstrong,” she starts.
She paints a pretty picture. Dazzling dates in the city—New York, that is—and a fast-paced romance. We moved in together within a few months, and he proposed after six. Whirlwind was one word to describe us, but from all accounts, we were in love.
Until the bruises started showing up.
Until I cut off my relationships witheveryone. Lucy and my other friends, any family.
