Chapter 1
The day I came home alone after a hysterectomy, my husband's ex-wife was cooking in my kitchen.
My husband Grant had promised to pick me up.
At eleven that morning, he texted, "Client emergency. I can't get away. I'm sorry."
So I came home in a hospital-arranged car, still sore enough that getting out of the back seat made me stop and breathe.
I expected silence.
Instead, I smelled soup.
His ex-wife Laura turned from the stove.
"Rachel? I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow."
I stopped in the doorway.
"Why did you think that?"
She hesitated.
"Grant said you might stay another night."
He knew I was coming home today.
I had told him twice.
Laura lowered the heat under the pot.
"I made something light. Grant said that would be easier on your stomach."
Then she nodded toward a glass of water on the counter.
"He also said your next pain pill is at five."
I looked at her.
Grant had given his ex-wife my medication schedule.
Before I could ask why, Laura glanced at the clock.
"I'll pick my daughter Emma up at six."
That caught me faster than the soup did.
"You're picking up Emma?"
"Grant has a call."
She said it like this had already been decided.
Like I was the only person who had not been included.
I lowered myself into a chair because my abdomen was starting to ache.
Laura moved toward me.
"Do you need help?"
"No."
The word came out sharper than I meant.
She stopped.
For a second, neither of us knew what to say.
Grant came home less than an hour later.
He looked at me, then at Laura.
"You're back."
That was all.
No "How are you feeling?"
No "Did you get home okay?"
He turned to Laura.
"Thanks for handling everything."
I stared at him.
"Why is she handling everything?"
His expression changed.
"Because you just had major surgery."
"Then why aren't you?"
Laura put down the spoon.
"I can leave."
Grant looked at her immediately.
"You don't have to."
Then he faced me.
"She made you food. She's helping with Emma. You could at least say thank you."
I felt something inside me go very still.
I had come home from surgery alone.
But somehow Laura was the one he thought needed defending.
"I didn't ask her to come."
"Rachel, not everything is an attack."
"I asked you to pick me up."
His jaw tightened.
"I told you what happened."
"And I came home to your ex-wife in my kitchen."
"She's Emma's mother."
"That doesn't answer me."
His voice dropped.
"Can we not turn this into a fight the minute you get home?"
The minute I got home.
As if I had brought the problem through the door with me.
Laura looked uncomfortable now.
"Grant, I should go."
This time, he let her.
She collected her purse and said goodbye.
At the front door, she reached into her bag.
I assumed she was looking for her phone.
Instead, she pulled out a brass house key.
She stepped outside and locked the door behind her.
I stared through the glass.
She had not borrowed Grant's key.
She had her own.
I turned slowly.
"How long has Laura had a key to our house?"
Grant did not answer.
He looked away first.