The Good Widow

“I feel better,” Dylan said, thankful it was the truth. “I’m starving.”

“This place makes the best paninis on this side of the island, according to our concierge. But first, I wanted to show you this.” He motioned behind her.

“What is it?” she said as she turned.

“You’re looking at the longest surfboard fence in the world!”

“It’s incredible.” Dylan got out of the Jeep. “I’m going to take a selfie!” she called over her shoulder.

Dylan leaned back and positioned her phone above her head, smiling brightly. “Hey, get over here—my arm’s not long enough to get the boards in,” she yelled, just as she lost her balance and fell backward, causing several of the boards to shake slightly under her weight while an angry brown-and-white Akita barked behind the fence.

“Come on now. All we need is for you to knock all these over like dominoes!” James laughed, grabbing the phone from her. “And what’s with wanting a selfie anyway?” James said as he took the picture. “You’re not even on Facebook!”

They walked into the small general store, and Dylan’s mouth watered at the fresh quinoa salad in the deli case. She remembered the oatmeal, hoping she could get it right this time. “Maybe I’ll join someday,” she said as she grabbed a bottle of coconut water and a loaf of banana bread.

James wrinkled his nose at the black-and-blueberry chia-seed pudding and grabbed a log of goat cheese and a stick of salami instead. “Oh, really? I thought you said social media was lame.” He pulled a Road to Hana CD guide from a rack, then turned toward the pretty cashier with long black hair flowing down her back in even waves and piercing dark eyes. “Where do you keep the wine?” he asked. She pointed to the back of the store, and he headed that way, motioning Dylan to follow.

“Nick thought social media was lame,” Dylan said as James debated between a cabernet and a pinot. “I had an account when I met him, but he asked me to deactivate it.” Dylan rolled her eyes.

“Well, I hate to side with the guy, but I really don’t get it—why I’m supposed to care about what some person I went to high school with thinks about the presidential election.”

Dylan shook her head. “That’s not the problem he had with it.”

“What was it then? The cat videos?” James laughed.

“Can we change the subject, please?” Dylan frowned, recalling Nick’s words. I don’t like other men looking at pictures of you. It’s creepy.

James threw his arms up. “You brought him up!”

“I know. Sorry.” Dylan stared at their surfboard selfie on the screen of her phone. She liked how she and James looked together. His olive complexion and dark hair complemented her lighter skin tone and blonde locks. She wondered which of his physical traits their baby would inherit. “It’s just that Nick didn’t get why I wanted to be on it. I really liked being able to share my life with the people I care about.” Dylan pointed to their selfie. She knew she was testing James—that she wanted to know what he’d think of Dylan sharing their life. If there was ever going to be a time when she could.

Dylan felt herself getting hopeful as she waited for James to respond and tried to force it down. The thing was, she’d convinced herself this trip to Hawaii didn’t need to mean anything. Even as they’d let people believe they were newlyweds. And maybe she’d been lying to herself all along anyway, but that was before. Before the pink lines had appeared. Now it wasn’t up to her how to feel. This child inside of her made everything different, whether she liked it or not. But she didn’t want the baby to influence James. She wanted him to choose her before he knew she was pregnant with his child.

“Hey, belleza,” James said lightly as they walked out of the store. But even before he uttered the next words, she sensed what he was about to say. “Even if you do join Facebook again, you know you couldn’t post about us, right?”

Dylan felt a sharp sting in her chest and looked away from him quickly so he wouldn’t see her disappointment. She wasn’t moving out of mistress status anytime soon.

“I’m sorry. You know I wish you could, but obviously it’s just not possible. You get that, right?” James tilted her face back toward his. “We want to stay in control of things. Not get sloppy.”

Dylan sucked in a long breath and made a decision to push her sadness away. She leaned against the Jeep and curved her lips into a wide smile. “I totally get it.” Then she glanced around before pressing herself into James, unsnapping his jeans and sticking her hand inside his waistband. She thought of the most seductive and sassy thing she could say. “You’re my dirty little secret—just the way I like you.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


JACKS—AFTER

“Stop the car!” I scream over the wind blowing hard through the Jeep, gripping the door handle with all of my strength. When Nick doesn’t hear me, I jerk on his T-shirt and repeat myself.

He turns the steering wheel left and stops abruptly in a turnout overlooking a deep, tree-lined canyon that backs up to a rocky beach. It looks so far away that it feels like another island.

I fling the door open and rush out, sucking in short breaths, pressing my hands against my thighs. I open my mouth to speak, but I can barely get words out. “I think . . . I’m . . . hyperventilating.”

Nick gets out and comes around quickly, taking my arm to swiftly guide me to a concrete table and bench that back up to a short stone wall. “Here, sit down. Hold your breath for as long as you can.”

I widen my eyes at him, panting like a dog, feeling light-headed.

“Trust me. This is what I do, okay?”

I comply, holding my breath for several seconds and finally releasing it.

“Better?” Nick asks, crouching in front of me and putting two fingers on my wrist. I nod.

“Your heart rate is slowing. But now I want you to breathe in and out through your nose, slowly.”

After a few minutes, my breathing steadies, and he sits beside me. A lone tear runs down my cheek, and I let my body go limp into his side.

“Have you ever had a panic attack before?” Nick asks as he strokes my hair.

I think back to Beth finding me in my garage, keys dangling from my fingers while I leaned up against the bag of fertilizer, and nod.

“I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have known this drive would be too much. That renting a Jeep was a bad idea.”

“This isn’t on you. I told you I could handle it. And I really thought I could. I’m just tired of being so weak.” I start to stand, but my knees buckle beneath me. “Fuck,” I mutter as Nick grabs my arm.

“Easy there,” Nick says. “You’ve got nothing to prove to me.”

“Why did this have to happen?” I whisper. “I’m just an elementary school teacher who used to think an exciting night was binge watching Netflix while eating chili-powder-seasoned popcorn. I know it sounds gross, but it’s really good.” I laugh slightly, and Nick frowns, then half smiles, clearly not sure how to react. “And now all these secrets. So much drama. My life has become a complete shit show!”

I breathe in again, slowly exhaling to please Nick. “I just don’t get how life as you know it can change in an instant. Like, you think it’s one thing, that you’re a certain person. Did you know I’m the teacher who gets oddly excited when her end-of-the-year textbook count comes out right the first time? Who tears up when I have enough extra school supplies to donate to another country? Who is meticulous about separating the sad crayons, as I call them, from the ones I can feel good about giving to the art teacher?” I sigh. “I always took pride in my work, in my life. And now I feel like it’s all been for nothing.”

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