“Shall we take the appetizers into the living room, or would you rather sit in here?”
“In here,” Hailey said. She picked up a tray of mini quiches and carried it to the low coffee table in front of the love seat facing the kitchen fireplace, flanked by two upholstered armchairs. The kitchen seemed to be the room that always drew them, a room whose walls had been privy to countless family conversations and tête-à-têtes.
“When did you get back, Darce?” Gabriel sat down in one of the armchairs, being careful, Blythe thought, not to sit too close to Darcy.
“Wednesday night,” she said, her tone friendly.
“Nice. How’s your dad?” It sounded perfunctory, and he looked down at the glass he held between his hands as he spoke. Couldn’t he even give her the courtesy of looking at her?
“He’s okay. Just a bit under the weather, or he would have been here, of course.”
The conversation continued, everyone trying their best to keep it as superficial as possible. Addison was the elephant in the room that nobody wanted to acknowledge, Blythe realized. She’d begun to feel that it had been a mistake to invite Darcy. She and Hailey should have made a lunch date with her instead. Just as she was worrying that this was going to be an agonizingly long evening, Darcy changed the whole tone of the gathering.
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but this feels really uncomfortable. You guys are like family to me. Gabriel,” she said, looking directly at him, “we’re not together anymore, but can’t we be friends? I know you’re still in love with Addison. That doesn’t mean you have to treat me like a stranger, like if you talk about her, I’m going to shrivel up and die. We go back too far for things to be so awkward between us.”
Blythe held her breath, watching Gabriel. He cocked his head and smiled at Darcy, really looking at her for the first time tonight.
“You’re right. I’m sorry for acting like an ass. You’re a good friend.”
Darcy smiled. “Thank you.”
Blythe felt like cheering Darcy’s bravery in speaking up. She’d taken a big step, and Gabriel had responded. And isn’t that how every journey began?
??50??
Cassandra
It took everything in my power to get through the holidays. All I can think about is what Julian told me about Sonia. No matter how hard I try, I can’t remember anything about her or what I did. I’m sick with guilt over it; a constant state of nausea fills me. Julian is wrong. No matter how out of my mind I was, I have to pay for what I’ve done. I have so many questions and so few answers. Does her family know what happened to her? Has anyone ever come looking for her? When he says he took care of things, what does that mean?
The only thing I do know is that I can’t live with this horrible secret. I start to plan, thinking about just going straight to the police and telling them the truth about what I did and how my husband hid it. But even if he was wrong to do so, Julian was only trying to protect his family. How can I betray him just to alleviate my guilt? And what about Valentina? If the police arrest Julian for covering for me, then our sweet girl will have no one, and be forced into the same system that ruined me. And a confession won’t bring Sonia back, anyway. It’s clear this can’t be the solution. I sink down on the bed, putting my head in my hands, and try to take a deep breath.
I’ve slept all day. I need to get up and dressed, pull myself together and think this through. Maybe together, Julian and I can figure out a way to deal with this. I hear the garage doors open. I walk to the landing and call down, “Julian? Is that you?”
He appears, looking up at me, and as he climbs the stairs I can see from the look on his face that something is wrong. He is holding something in his hands, and when he is almost at the top I see that it is Valentina’s stuffed elephant. When he reaches the landing where I stand, he holds the stuffed animal out to me without saying a word. I cry out when I see the mutilated elephant, its stuffing ripped partway out and the knife embedded in it. This is Valentina’s favorite toy, the one she sleeps with every night. What have I done? Trembling, I run to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. My stomach is empty but keeps heaving. Tears and snot run down my face as I gag and cough, and I rest my head on the toilet’s edge. Julian sits behind me and lays his hand on my back, but I cannot be comforted. Finally it seems I am spent, and Julian hands me a towel to wipe my face.
“Where is Valentina? Is she all right?” I ask him, terrified of what he is going to tell me.