Chapter 2
"I just want everyone to calm down."
"I am calm. You still haven't answered me."
He glanced at the open door, then reached over and shut it.
My chest tightened at the click of the latch.
He was afraid someone would see.
I set the cake on a cabinet beside me, only feeling how deeply the handles had dug into my fingers when I let go.
A golden retriever came running from the living room, weaving around Daniel with practiced ease and pressing against Natalie's legs as she bent to stroke its ears.
"Sunny, sit."
My head snapped toward her.
The dog sat obediently, its tail thumping against the floor.
"What's its name?"
Natalie's hand paused.
"Claire—" Daniel began.
"I asked what its name is."
"Sunny."
I stared at the dog.
Lucy hadn't even been born when we chose that name.
Daniel had wanted Captain, but I'd said it would sound like we were calling for someone to steer a ship, and in the end, he'd laughed and agreed to Sunny.
After Sunny died, the kids had asked for another dog several times, but he always said we'd get one when we moved to the coast and had more space.
The dog got up and picked up a toy at Daniel's feet.
He took it automatically, so used to the motion that he didn't even look down.
Only then did I take in the whole room.
An open kitchen, cream-colored cabinets, a breakfast table facing the ocean.
Two chairs stood by the window, his sweater draped over one of them.
And a fireplace.
He'd insisted we would need a fireplace for winters by the sea.
I'd said it would be a pain to clean, and he'd told me we'd have plenty of time once we retired—he would take care of the ashes.
The hearth here was spotless, with a neatly stacked basket of firewood beside it.
"You two live here."
Neither of them corrected me.
There were two plates and two cups of coffee on the table.
Natalie's phone was charging, and Daniel's reading glasses rested on an open book.
Suddenly, I wanted to sit down, but not one chair looked as though it belonged to me.
"I thought you'd finally remembered what we promised each other."
Daniel raised a hand and rubbed his forehead.
"It's just a house."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"It's not something I can explain in a couple of sentences."
"You had time to tell me this morning."
He said nothing.
"And last night. We had dinner together. You even asked how Lucy's applications were coming along."
"Leave the kids out of this."
"You're the one who talks to me every day about the kids, your mother's follow-up appointments, what needs replacing in the house. Everything except this place."
Natalie picked up her coffee and held it without drinking.
I looked at Daniel.
I'd moved three times for his career.
Seven years of his mother's follow-up records were still on my phone.
The old photo of a seaside cottage was still stuck to the side of our refrigerator, one corner tucked beneath the family calendar.
The life I'd imagined in that photo already existed. It just wasn't mine.
There was a house, a dog, mornings together, and a woman in his shirt.
I thought of the two mugs in the bag at my feet and felt suddenly ashamed.
I'd even picked out a larger one for him, worried the other wouldn't hold enough coffee.
"I chose this town," I said. "When we were here on our honeymoon, you promised we'd come back and live here someday."
Natalie put down her cup and turned to him.
"Didn't you say she didn't even want to live by the ocean?"