by Gia Riley
“I remember our first date. Our first kiss, and the night you made love to me for the first time. You owned my heart from the very beginning, and that’s all I ever wanted—to be yours.
“All my friends were dreaming of becoming teachers or nurses, but I saw myself as your wife, taking care of you for the rest of my life. That was enough for me, and I did my best, Connor. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.
“I can’t forgive you for what you’ve done, but I still need you to be the man I know you can be. I need you to watch over our little girl and help her find peace. She deserves it.”
“You’re angry,” Vanessa whispers with her hand on the door of the church. “It better be about Connor.”
“Why do you say that?” I try to pull myself out of the kitchen and focus on the service—even though I had nothing to do with the planning. That was all Vanessa, too.
When I left the house, I promised myself I would go through today as the respectable woman who held the title of Connor’s wife for the last seven years. The woman our friends and family knew well and enjoyed being around.
Now that I’m at the church, about to see all those people and their prying eyes, I realize they’ll want to know how it got so bad, and what part I played in him killing himself.
That makes me angrier, because none of his choices were mine. When I have to speak to these people today, they’ll want answers I don’t have.
Vanessa pulls me inside the vestibule and hands me a tiny envelope with a silver key inside. The last key I got was to Garrett’s front door. This one is nothing like that one, and I’m almost afraid to find out what it belongs to.
“What is it?”
“I met with Connor’s lawyer again, like you wanted me to. He handed over some important papers, none of which were anything to worry about.”
“Okay, and?” I ask her.
“The key is for his safety deposit box at the bank. As much as I wanted to be the one to do it, legally, all I could do was gain access for you. Other than Connor, you’re the only one who can open it. And from the way you’re looking at me, you don’t know anything about the box, do you?”
My stomach twists into a tight knot, the acid creeping up my throat all over again. Another secret. “I’ve never seen it before.”
Disgusted, she says, “I figured that was the case.”
“What do you think is inside the box?”
She shrugs and I can tell she’s not looking forward to finding out any more than I am. “Your guess is as good as mine, but the sooner you open it, the better.”
“Better for whom?” I’ve had enough surprises and disappointment to last me a lifetime. If I wasn’t so curious, I’d probably pretend I never saw the key.
“Maybe it’s just mail—or something he kept for work.”
Nothing is ever that simple with Connor. A man hiding a safety deposit box isn’t using it for mail. Whatever it’s holding was meant to stay far away from my eyes, some place nobody could ever get their hands on it.
Fighting back tears, I just want today to be over with. The church is filling up, and I still have nothing planned. “What do I say, Vanessa?”
She takes my hand and leads me toward the last pew in the back of the church. “The rest of the world doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. The people who will be here today see you as his loving wife. If you can, be her for a little while. If you can’t, that’s okay, too. You owe Connor nothing.”
Can I go back to being Mrs. Connor Campbell? The thought alone makes me nauseous. “I’m a shit liar, Vanessa. People will see right through me.”
“I guess you have your answer then,” she says as Connor’s mother joins us.
“Where’s Laney?” she asks before she even says hello to me.
I sat Laney down this morning and gave her the option of coming here or staying home. Laney chose Grace.
Considering it took her all of five seconds to make a decision, I could tell she wasn’t ready to forgive Connor yet either, even if she did miss her daddy.
“She’s with a friend of mine,” I tell Connor’s mother, leaving out the part about Grace being Garrett’s sister. The less she knows about my life now, the better off we’ll all be. But if looks could kill, I’d be lying next to Connor right now.
I can only hope they want Laney here because they realize she’s all they have left. That the best way to honor their son is to love her more than they ever have.
“What songs did you pick for the service?” she asks, rudely.
Knowing her, nothing I could have picked would have been good enough. From what I’ve heard, she’s been more ashamed of the way Connor died than his actual death. Him committing suicide has tarnished her name in her social circle and created more rumors across town than ever.
But if she really cared so much about the service, she would’ve picked up the phone when Vanessa was trying to reach out to her. A normal mother-in-law would have made sure I was okay. She did neither of those things, which makes her as selfish as the son she raised.
She won’t like this answer either, but I tell her, “The minister and my sister selected the pieces for the memorial.”
Mrs. Campbell doesn’t dignify my response with one of her own, instead she chooses to walk away from me. She doesn’t offer a single condolence, nor acknowledge how hard things must be for me and Laney. She doesn’t even offer to help.
It shouldn’t surprise me, though. After all, I’m the one who held her son back from bigger and better things. I’m the one he got serious with too quickly, and then got pregnant too fast. In her eyes, I’ve always been the problem.
Just when I start to think I’ve already reached my limit, a warm hand rests on my shoulder. Without turning around, I relax into the familiar touch. “Are you okay?” he asks.
When I turn around, the warmth in Garrett’s eyes instantly settles my nerves. My heart is still beating out of my chest, but it’s not because Connor’s mom upset me. It’s because the one person I didn’t expect to support me today showed me he’s capable of being the bigger man. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I hate what Connor did to you and Laney, Megan. I always will, but I care about you. I’m here because I love you.”
I give him a sad smile and lower my eyes to the floor. When it comes to Garrett, I often struggle to find the right words to express how I’m feeling. They’re always on the tip of my tongue, but I need help getting them out.
Right now, the urge to tell him how much I love him is stronger than ever. I’d let it all out if we were in any other place. But when I do say those three little words for the first time, I don’t want them to have any attachment to Connor.
I need them to stand tall all on their own.
And I need them to be all about Garrett.
“It’s time to take our seats,” Vanessa whispers, interrupting our moment.
Whether I want him to or not, Garrett’s by my side when I move to the front of the church and take my seat in the first pew. Connor’s mom is on the opposite side, glancing at the two of us with a disapproving eye.
From one scripture to the next, the service is laid out in a beautiful story of life and death. Songs are sung, tears are shed, and hearts are continually broken. But nothing shatters mine more than when I take my place in front of the congregation.
Standing in the back next to Connor’s father is the woman I found in my kitchen. She’s leaning on him for support like she’s known him for years. He has his arm wrapped around her, letting her cry on his shoulder.
Our eyes meet, and I see how much it pains him to be in this position. Whether he liked it or not, I’m sure he was sworn to secrecy, too.
My eyes skim over all the bodies seated in the pews, and I silently wonder how many of them knew, too. Maybe they didn’t know about our fake marriage, but there’s a good possibility they knew he was seeing someone else.
Garrett turns around and follows my line of vision. When he sees what I’m looking at
, he’s out of his seat and in front of me before I can blink twice.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers. “You don’t have to do this, Megan. We can walk out of here right now.”
I brush away a stray tear and tell him, “I need to do this before I lose the nerve.”
If anyone was questioning my connection to Garrett, there’s no denying it now. While I try to get my shit together, hushed whispers float around the church, making it look like Connor wasn’t the only one who strayed. That only fuels my fire.
Taking one last deep breath, I let the words flow however they decide to come out of me—without a filter.
“Connor Campbell was my first love. He’s the only boy I ever let kiss me, and when he did, I knew I’d marry him someday. That’s how much I loved him. Despite our teenage struggles and our differences, he was always the boy who would hold my heart in his hands. He’d protect it, cherish it, and love it. Just like I would do for him.”
“But the odds are always stacked against young love. Sometimes what we thought we had, we never had at all. So many of you are probably wondering how a wonderful boy turned into such a troubled man. It’s a question I’d like to know the answer to myself.”
“That’s what makes this so hard—not having any answers about his choices. All I can tell you is that what happened to him was the result of one too many bad choices. My husband wasn’t troubled in the ways you might be imagining, and he would have wanted to be remembered as an honest man, a loving husband, and a tender father.”
“For the rest of you who either know better, or are pretending you don’t, you already know he wasn’t any of those things. He was a liar, a fraud, and a magician. Whichever version you had the pleasure of meeting, I hope you cherish your good memories and work through the bad. It’ll take time, but maybe someday, we can all respect Connor again.”
Connor’s mother stands from the pew and walks toward me. Her finger is wagging in the air in front of my face.
“What are you doing?” she whispers, though loud enough most of the room can still hear her. “This is my son’s service. I won’t let you stand up here and destroy his memory.”
“No worries,” I tell her as a wave of calmness washes over me. “He did that all on his own.”
She opens her mouth and closes it, stunned I would have the audacity to say something so bold in a time like this. But I’m done. I’m done protecting him.
Looking down the aisle at the other woman, I continue my speech whether his mother sits back down or not.
“Like I was saying, toward the end of his life, Connor made some bad decisions. He drank too much, and he neglected his family. So, if you want to hear about the amazing man he was, you’ll have to ask the woman in the back of the church. She’ll have all the answers you’re looking for because the only person I can tell you about is the boy I once knew. He’s the one I loved.”
Connor’s father doesn’t flinch. He actually looks at peace with my decision to speak the truth, and I’m grateful for that. His son didn’t leave me with any choices. He made them for me since the day he put a ring on my finger. But today that ended. Today, I’m taking my life back—and I’m going to live it for me.
The other woman will have to live with herself for coming between Connor and Laney. Though she doesn’t look too ashamed about their choices. Maybe she loved him, too.
Garrett stands and reaches for my hand. Without a moment of hesitation, I take it. He intertwines our fingers and leads me toward the back of the church. I wait for him to tell me I made a fool of myself. Or that I’m above the kind of behavior I just displayed.
Instead he says, “This isn’t how I imagined walking you down the aisle.”
“Ohmigod, Garrett,” I tell him with a laugh—something I never expected to do today.
With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he surprises me some more. “I’m proud of you, Megan. That was a long time coming.”
He approves.
“I probably shouldn’t have said those things, but I couldn’t lie in a church.”
He squeezes my hand and gives me the reassurance I need. From here on out, I’m choosing to live for me and Laney, and now that I’ve said goodbye to Connor, we’re starting fresh with Garrett—without any secrets.
Megan
THE KEY VANESSA GAVE ME at the service has been haunting me for a week straight. I promised myself a fresh start once I left the church, and I feel like I can’t have that until I figure out what’s waiting for me at the bank.
A stronger Megan would have driven there right after the memorial, but after all I’ve been through, it never seemed like the right time to go. If it hadn’t been for all the false promises I’d been told, I’d be desperate for another piece of my husband to hold onto. But if Connor was really my husband, I wouldn’t be wondering what was in the box in the first place. He wouldn’t have kept it from me, and there would be no lingering secrets.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Garrett asks as he sets his keys on the countertop in my kitchen.
It’s been so weird living in the house I shared with Connor again. When I decided to come back, I underestimated how hard it would be—how empty this place would feel to me.
Still sleeping on my side of the bed like he might come home, I can’t get used to venturing into the middle.
I can still see Connor shaving in front of the bathroom sink. Or sitting on the couch with his feet propped on the edge of the coffee table.
He remembers to take the trash out the night before garbage day, and I never have to wrestle with the disgusting cans first thing in the morning.
All the visions aren’t that simple though. There’s nightmares, too, with so much blood on the floor. It’s splattered on the walls and the ceiling. It clings to me when I try to clean it up and suffocates me until my eyes finally open.
I can’t take much more.
“I’ll be back in half an hour. Laney already ate and Vanessa is picking her up in an hour for their sleepover.”
“So, when you get back you’re all mine for the night?”
I hesitate because he can’t stay here. We’ve discussed how wrong it feels. “I’m yours, but not in the way you’re thinking,” I tell him.
“What do you mean?”
Garrett’s kept fairly quiet about selling this house, letting me do what feels right. I hate that we’re being driven out of our homes in order to be together, though. But he’s right. It might help me shed the nightmares if I’m surrounded by things that don’t bring back so many memories. At this point, I’m desperate to try just about anything.
“I thought when I got home maybe we could check out some houses online. Maybe even go to an open house over the weekend and see them in person.”
He pauses, blinking a couple times, like he doesn’t believe I’m actually saying these words to him. Once I finally decided what I wanted to do, it surprised me, too.
“I thought you needed more time, Megs. Isn’t that why you moved out of my house in the first place?”
I realize how hot and cold I am. How all over the map I’ve been with what I want. Lately, it’s changing every day until I finally come to some conclusion I’m happy with. And this is what would make me the happiest.
“I thought that’s what I needed, but I was wrong. You’re what I need—and I’m ready.”
The entire time I’m speaking, he backs me into the corner near the microwave. Smiling, mostly because he looks like he wants to eat me for dinner, I wait for his answer.
“If you really mean it, I’m in. We can make a list.”
“I mean it, but I do have one request.”
“Name it, it’s yours.”
“I want the chandelier in your foyer. You can’t sell it with the house.”
His eyes narrow and he searches my face. “You knew?”
“It was my grandma’s, wasn’t it?”
He nods and says, “I wasn’t sure you remembered or even noticed, but I wanted it in c
ase a day like today ever came. So it could stay in your family where it belonged, instead of being thrown away.”
“I still can’t believe you bought it. It couldn’t have been cheap—it’s an antique. I can try to pay you for it. Might take me a little while though.”
“Babe, I don’t want your money. I just want you.”
His enthusiasm about living me with me and Laney again is all the reassurance I need. “It’s done, then. We’ll start looking at places as soon as I get back. Oh, and before I forget. Your dinner is in the oven.”
He glances at the oven and then back to me. “You made me dinner? This night keeps getting better.”
“You haven’t tasted it yet,” I tell him with a laugh. “But it’s stuffed shells. They’re still your favorite, right?”
He groans as he peeks inside the oven. “I’m starving. This is perfect.”
I expect him to grab a plate out of the cabinet and dig in after a long day at the hospital, but he closes the oven door and wraps his arms around my waist.
“Weren’t you starving, doc?”
“It can wait,” he whispers. “I miss you, Megs. I’m glad we won’t have to be in separate houses much longer. After living with you, being apart really blows.”
I bury my face against his neck and get lost in his cologne. “I don’t like it either. It’s hard to sleep at night. I’ve spent so many hours staring at the clock, waiting for morning to get here.”
Garrett pulls away from me and reaches for my chin. Holding it up with the tip of his finger, he kisses me softly. “The only reason you should be up all night is because my tongue is between your legs.”
I hold onto him tighter, wishing this house would disappear into thin air so we could go back to the way things were when I had him right down the hall.
“I miss you, too, Garrett. And I miss your journal messages. Promise me we can do that again—it was my favorite part about living with you.”
“Just the journal?” he questions as his hand skims the underside of my breast.
