Page 3

CHAPTER THREE

Kassandra

A wake was supposed to be a gathering of friends and family to share memories and pay respect for the loss of a loved one.

In my case, it was more like a form of torture.

I let Michael's parents convince me it was a good idea to have it in my home. It was what Michael would've wanted , they said. I should've told them I didn't give a shit what Michael wanted considering he hanged himself barely twenty feet away from where his children sat and did their homework.

But I didn't have it in me to argue. They offered to pay, so it wasn't like I had a good reason to deny them.

Not only did Michael screw his family by leaving me to deal with whatever they problem he had, but there was also the fact that no life insurance policy company was going to pay out when the death certificate said “suicide.”

Even in death, Michael was a pain in my ass.

I glanced around my house at the so-called mourners. Not a single person bothered to check on me or the boys before today. They showed up at the funeral because it made them look good, but after today, I wouldn't hear from them again.

Well, except for one person.

David Black.

I knew the moment he showed up at the funeral. My body responded to him the same way it did back in high school. Butterflies in my stomach would take flight any time he was near and it was like I was drawn to him. I had to force myself during the funeral not to take my eyes off the priest.

It wouldn't have been appropriate to be seeking out another man when my husband wasn't even in the ground yet. Unlike Michael, I had taken my vows seriously.

"Hey, Mom?" Nate's unsure voice pulled me from my musings. "Grandma is looking for you."

I turned to my youngest and plastered a smile on my face. Just like I knew they would, both of my boys blamed themselves for Michael's death, despite me telling them it wasn't their fault. They couldn't understand what they did wrong for their father to no longer want to live.

It was hard to bite my tongue and not badmouth their father. I knew Michael's selfish choice had nothing to do with them. I also knew he didn’t even consider how his actions would affect them when he made his decision.

"Where is she?"

"In the kitchen. She had a question about the food."

Of course she did. There was probably something not up to her standard. "Okay. You can head outside if you want."

Nate looked down at his shoes. "Grandma said it's rude to ignore people who came here to offer us their condolences."

Mrs. Bennett could fuck a duck for all I cared. I took a deep breath, pushing down my anger, and smiled. "I'll deal with your grandmother. Go ahead outside and get some fresh air."

My son didn't need to be told twice. He rushed outside like the devil himself was nipping at his heels. It was bad enough that at fifteen years old he had to attend his father's funeral, but to be forced to participate in this sham of a wake was too much. I didn't care what it said about me as a person. Let everyone in the neighborhood talk about me. It wouldn't be the first time.

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I knew my day was about to get worse.

"Who in their right mind serves sliders at a wake?" Michael's mother screeched at the poor server unfortunate enough to be holding the tray of food in question.

"I picked it," I interrupted before the server could be forced to speak up. It wasn't her fault Mrs. Bennett and I didn't see eye to eye about how today should go.

I wanted everyone out of my house as soon as possible. A large meal prevented that, but finger foods would get people to leave that much faster.

I nodded for the server to head out and waited until it was just Michael's mother and me in the kitchen alone before I spoke again.

"I picked the food that I felt was best considering I don't want people in my home all afternoon."

"It's my son's funeral . He deserves the best and for people to see he was well loved . Sliders show that we don't care about his life!"

I threw my hands up in the air. "A man who hangs himself while his children are home doesn't deserve the best! He's lucky I had a funeral at all considering the hell he's putting my children through!"

She waved me off. "Clearly he wasn't thinking straight when he did that. He was a good son, father, and husband. He deserves to be honored in death."

Oh sure, because a good husband cheats on his wife with bimbos on the regular. The only thing Michael didn't do was pay for it. At least not to my knowledge, but considering how much money he went through, anything was possible.

"I am honoring him," I bit out. "I've opened my home for people, but as a grieving widow, I deserve to have some peace. People milling about my home for hours on end won't give me that, so yes , I chose something that would get people moving along faster. Sue me!"

I was done with this conversation. Maybe I would take my own advice and go outside to hide until people left. Spinning around, I stopped suddenly when I realized we had an audience.

"David." His name was nothing more than a whisper on my lips.

"Oh, David . . ." Mrs. Bennett charged past me and pulled David down for a hug. "It's so good to see you. Michael would be so happy you came. He missed spending time with you."

I kept the snort to myself. Michael was the reason neither of us spoke to David anymore. It wasn't allowed. Michael was too busy being jealous of his friend’s life to continue a friendship past high school.

"It's good to see you as well, Mrs. Bennett. I'm so sorry for your loss."

How petty did it make me that I was sick of hearing that line? I wished like hell that Michael hadn't killed himself, but was I sorry he was dead? Nope, not even a little bit. Good riddance as far as I was concerned. But I couldn't exactly scream that to every person who showed up to offer condolences today, regardless of how badly I wanted to.

"Thank you, David. You were always such a good friend to my boy."

It was a good thing her back was to me because no amount of restraint kept me from rolling my eyes. Michael's mother was laying it on thick. Probably in hopes that David would tell his parents and keep the Bennetts in their good graces.

The joke was on her. David hated his parents. I doubt that changed over the years. Last I’d heard, he hadn't spoken to them since his time in the Marines.

"Thank you for saying that. If you don't mind, I need to steal Kassandra for a moment."

I didn't miss the surprise on her face before she schooled her features and plastered on a fake smile. "Absolutely. Be sure to tell your parents I said hi."

It was really annoying how predictable this woman was. It was no wonder Michael turned out the way he did.

I excused myself and led David out onto the front porch. I took a deep breath of the fresh air and let it relax me. I don't know if it was the fact that the house was stuffy with so many people in it or if it was seeing the man who’d led every one of my fantasies for the last thirty years that had me tied in knots.

I had a feeling it had more to do with the second than the first.

"I'm sorry . . ."

I held my hand up to stop him. "Please don't tell me how sorry you are for my loss. I'm sick of hearing it. I told you on the phone what happened, so there's no need for the formal bullshit when we both know it's not necessary."

David cleared his throat. "I wasn't going to say that. I know your feelings on this whole thing."

I continued to look out toward the street and crossed my arms over my chest. "Sorry, I'm just over this whole thing . I want everyone to leave so I can try to make sense of my life."

"So kick them out," David said so matter-of-factly that it made me snicker.

"I wish I could. I'm not sure how much of my conversation with Mrs. Bennett you heard, but doing so right now would set her hair on fire. She's already mad at me that I didn't have a four-course meal for the wake."

"Only in this neighborhood would someone think a meal like that is how we should honor the dead."

He wasn't wrong. My house was one of the smaller ones in the neighborhood but only because we couldn't afford the kind Michael really wanted. To live on this street meant we were one of the Boston elite. I didn't care about things like that, but Michael sure did. If my boys hadn't lived here since they were born, I would sell it in a heartbeat.

I tilted my head and looked up through my lashes at David. Time certainly was kind to him. He was as handsome now as he had been as a teenager. "Thank you for coming."

David shoved both hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I told you I would only ever be a phone call away."

Telling David to stay away was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. It killed me to know that I was choosing between him and Michael. I so badly wanted it to be him, but circumstances at the time didn't make that an option.

"I know, but that promise was a lifetime ago."

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I never break a promise."

I looked down at my heels and wished I’d taken the time to change my shoes when I came home. There was no reason I couldn't have switched to black flats in my own damn home.

I haven't exactly been in the right mind since I found the note.

Speaking of, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my dress. Thank God for modern fashion and putting pockets in dresses these days.

"The police took the original but I remembered to snap a picture. This is why I asked for your help."

I handed David the phone and watched the multitude of emotions flicker across his face. Most of which were the same as the ones I felt when I first read it. I just had to hope David meant it when he said he would be there for me because there was no way I could handle this mess on my own.