Not guilty laughing.
He was laughing like a man who had just won something.
The blonde in the sundress had already disappeared inside my parents’ anniversary home with her champagne and her designer luggage. Greg stayed on the porch a moment longer, looking out over the ocean like he owned the tide itself.
My father’s gardening hat lay in the dirt beside the steps.
That hat had been faded blue once. He had worn it for twenty years while mowing lawns, fixing gutters, changing oil in cars, and doing every hard little job that kept our family alive when I was growing up.
Now it was face-down in the sand because my husband’s mistress had kicked it there.
“Ms. Vance?” Marcus said.
I blinked.
“I’m here.”
“What happened?”
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