Two women, a decade older than me, approach from the opposite direction. I don’t have time to duck my head. The gaze of the bleach-blond woman wearingshortshorts falls to the prominent scar by my mouth. Her eyes narrow into a scowl, and she elbows her friend.
Her friend glances my way, and her expression twists into horror and fear, as if I’m stumbling about in a hockey mask and carrying a blood-soaked ax.
I drop my head, heat rushing to my face, and struggle to remember what Robyn told me a short time ago.They think I’m a murderer. They don’t think I’m harmless or safe to be around children.I try but can’t think of a way to reframe the negative into something positive.
I stop and study the photos I’ve just taken. None are worthy of any photography awards—even with editing.
Each one is a disappointment.
Like I’ve become.
Bailey and I continue walking a short distance and stop at a group of large boulders on the edge of the water—my favorite spot to sit. I position myself so I’m looking out at the lake. No one can see my face from the path.
I pull out my laptop and type, but the words I need still won’t come. Instead, my head fills with the words I heard so often from my late husband and while in prison.
Failure. Useless. Worthless. Pathetic. Lazy. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.The words pulsate and grow. Transform into hideous colors. Take shape into something prickly and barbed. No matter how much I try to twist them into something positive, the more they resist, the louder they become. They scream in my head,Ugly, dumb, dumb bitch.
I cover my ears with my hands, but that does nothing to quiet the voices, so lifelike, so real.
Maybe my late husband was right. Look at the mess I made of the festival.
Stephanie’s words from last night stomp through my head.“And who’s to say Pushing Limits canceled because their drummer is injured? Maybe it was a convenient excuse after they heard Savannah Townsend is involved with the festival. They don’t want the bad press associated with that.”
If more people don’t want to support the event because I’d originally been helping with it, it might have dire consequences. More performers might pull out. Ticket holders might demand a refund. All the hard work Troy and everyone else has been doing will be for nothing.
I remain on the rock for who knows how long before I pack up the laptop and get up to leave.
Bailey and I hike along the trail, but this time my steps feel heavy, like gravity is pulling me down. It’s a struggle to keep moving. Luckily, I don’t bump into any more people. I just need to get past the beach without anyone noticing me and then I can hide away in my home again.
As I approach the beach, a sweet, girlish giggle has me looking up. My heart clenches and my stomach free-falls to the ground. I drop with it and crouch behind the long wild grass, hiding from the three individuals several yards away.
Troy and Olivia and Nova.
Olivia squeals and leaps to her feet. She hugs Troy, and he swings her around. They both laugh, her head thrown back, and he continues swinging her in a circle.
I press my suddenly cold fingers against my mouth, trapping the building sob. I guess Troy didn’t have to work late after all.
Nova jumps up and down on her cute chubby legs, giggling and cheering.
They really do look like the perfect, happy family. The family Troy wants. The family he deserves.
My heart shatters, knowing what I must do. Knowing what’s best for him, for them, for everyone concerned.
And maybe way down, down, down the line, what’s best for me too.
53
TROY
August, Present Day
Maple Ridge
Nova stops walkingon the sand near the water and squats. She turns her small yellow bucket upside down and bangs the bottom of it with her shovel. A couple of ducks quack, their bodies bobbing on the water a short distance from us.
Olivia kneels beside Nova. “That would work a lot better if you actually had sand in there, sweetheart.”
“Maybe she’s practicing to be a drummer.” I chuckle, despite being frustrated as hell after the day I’ve had. I had to ask Zara to drive Jess home after therapy this afternoon. Another client canceled his booking with my company, and I had to go deal with the fallout.
