Chapter 2

When the burgers and soup arrived, Megan took out her tablet and placed it in the middle of the table.

"The rain-tent backup plan is confirmed. Lily, my sister will take the kids Sunday morning. And the seating chart--I put together a first draft."

Lily took her hand.

"I honestly don't know what we'd do without you."

Ethan lifted his beer.

"Thank God for Megan."

I looked over the spreadsheet on the screen, then raised my eyes.

"Thank you for arranging childcare for Lily. But the seating chart... weren't we supposed to go over it together tomorrow morning?"

Megan's smile paused.

"I'm sorry. I thought having a first version done would make things easier for you. Ethan said your work transition has been heavy this week."

Ethan was cutting his steak. He did not look up.

"You are exhausted. Megan does events. It's easier to let her handle it."

"This isn't about whether I'm tired," I said.

The sound at the table dropped away.

Ethan set down his knife and fork at last.

"Claire, it's only a seating chart. Megan knows everyone. She knows who will be comfortable sitting together."

"So do I."

Ben lifted a fry.

"As long as I'm not seated with my ex-wife's cousin, I'll sit anywhere. Put me at the kids' table."

A little laughter came back.

Megan looked down and kept scrolling through the tablet. She did not look at me again.

It started to rain on the drive home. The wipers moved back and forth across the windshield. The car held only Ethan and me.

"When was that lake-house Polaroid taken?" I asked.

He thought for a moment.

"Oh. That one. It was spontaneous. We went after coffee."

"You told me no one went anywhere that day."

His hands tightened on the steering wheel.

"You were at the hospital with your mom. I didn't want you to feel like you had to take a call, or explain why you couldn't come."

"So you explained for me."

The light turned red. He looked straight ahead.

"Claire, it was just an afternoon of doing nothing. No one was trying to hurt you."

"I know," I said. "That's what makes it hard."

Late that night, Ethan fell asleep in the living room.

I went into the study to look for my vow draft and opened an old backup from my phone. I was not trying to search through his messages.

It was only that the lake-house day had become a thread, and once I pulled it, other days came loose with it.

2018: Megan has an emergency. I'm going over there.

2019: The five of us are catching up at the old place. Just boring old stories.

2021: I told them you have an early shift tomorrow. No need to drag you in.

I remembered the date of the last message exactly.

I had not had an early shift.

That night, I had made dinner for two and waited until eleven. When Ethan came home, he said everyone had just been catching up.

I asked why he had not invited me.

"They thought you were tired," he said. "They told me not to bother you."

I believed him.

I closed the window and opened a blank document.

At the top, I typed one word:

Monday.

Below it, I wrote three numbers: the venue's cancellation-policy contact, my bank manager, and Nora--my best friend from college, who now lived in Portland.

I did not touch the honeymoon car reservation.

Instead, I opened the train website and bought a one-way ticket to Portland for Sunday evening. Then I reserved a local rental car for Sunday morning, only to get me to the station.

When the confirmation page appeared, I closed the browser.

As I left the study, Ethan's phone lit up on the coffee table.

Megan's message preview read:

Can the five of us meet at the venue at ten tomorrow? We can get everything ready before Claire gets there.

Ethan turned over in his sleep.

He did not wake up.