at her because there’s no way I want her to sense my panic for what has become my life. I notice her boots—the ones with lace and diamond studs on them. Collin bought them for her a couple months ago when he was at a conference up in Sedona. I hadn’t seen Tatum wear them yet, but the fact that she is makes me smile.
I remember doing the same thing when my dad passed away, and my mom.
“Cool boots,” Sadie notes, standing beside her. It’s the first I’ve seen of her since I got back from the bank. Though she can tell by the look on my face I have news for her, we don’t talk about any of it around Tatum.
But here’s where I get fucked in the ass with no lube.
It starts with another knock at the door, and at this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the devil to welcome me to hell.
This time though, Tatum swings the door open, Sadie behind her, and says, “Who are you?”
No hello, no, would you like to come in? To the point and direct. That’s my girl.
With Sadie beside me, I wrap my arm around Tatum and look up at the woman standing before us. “How can I help you?”
The girl, she’s probably Sadie’s age, wearing a crop top and leggings, has her long blonde hair pulled up underneath a hat. Nervously, she bites her nails. “I was looking for Collin Greyson.”
Tatum takes off, running into the family room and lunges for the couch while yelling, “He’s in heaven!” There’s no anger in her words, and I can’t even tell you if there’s sadness. She’s just yelling to yell because that’s what three-year-olds do.
“I’ll go check on her,” Sadie says, walking away.
My focus remains on the girl. “She’s right. He… passed away last week in a car accident.” Despite my annoyance for him or the fact that he’d obviously been lying to me for months, tears sting my eyes the moments the words leave my lips. Why? Why does emotion and love do that to you?
“Oh. You’re his wife… aren’t you?” Now there are tears in her eyes.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?”
She holds out her hand to me. “I’m Remi.”
To be polite, I shake her hand. She reminds me of a yoga instructor and incredibly beautiful in a natural way. Without a stitch of makeup, you can tell she doesn’t need it. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Well, I don’t know how to say this.” She pauses and adjusts her hair. “Can I come in?”
Nothing would surprise me at this point. It really wouldn’t. Tatum’s outside with Sadie, both of them fully dressed in the pool now and laughing. “Yeah, you can come in.”
She takes a seat on the couch and sighs for some reason, as I sit across from her on the chair. Maybe she’s the reason he had the condoms?
Ha. Look at her. No way she’d sleep with Collin. Clearly she could do better than a banker with a dad bod.
Oh, but friends, I’m wrong. Look at her face. Look closely. See the devastation? The confusion? The worry? It’s all there, like her world has been turned upside down over this news. “I came here thinking he’d be here, not that he was dead,” she admits tearfully. At this point, I’m a little concerned about her mental stability because she begins to shake. “I can’t… I think I’m having a panic attack.”
Shit. Look at her. She’s taking this worse than I did. That’s when she hits me with the fastest curveball there is. One that curves at the very last second. She looks right into my eyes, and for a moment, I take in the color of hers. I have no idea why either because what the fuck does the color have to do with anything at this point? But I stare. They’re kind and gentle. Unusual. Not brown or hazel, but gold with navy blue rings on the perimeter. Her eyes remind me of a painting I have above our bed of a sunset on a fall afternoon. There’s a dusting of freckles like sun kisses on her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
She sniffs and catches a tear. “I’m… well, I uh, we….” She pauses, draws in a quick breath, and then sighs.
My body heats up, sweat pricking every part of me. It’s like I have a fever all of a sudden. Anger smashes into my chest and then pounds