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The ballroom was filling up. The glass doors were open to a pool with a
web of narrow concrete bridges leading to seating pods that overlooked the
dry ravine of Stone Creek. Six-month-old Garrett slept peacefully in
Olivia’s arms, and Uncle Rodney blocked my view of the entrance.
“Someone said your brother’s coming back,” he said.
“Which one?” I shifted to see the entrance, and my uncle moved to
block my view again.
“Colton,” Olivia said.
“They say that every time there’s a get-together,” I replied.
Colton was the ne’er-do-well among us. A lazy, talentless slob who’d
called in our father’s promise to provide One Big Thing—a request he
might question, but wouldn’t deny—took the money, and disappeared into a
haze of parties and women. We rarely heard from him outside the tabloids.
With his attention on the baby, I peered around Uncle Rod, and finally
—with a mixture of relief and awe, I caught sight of Ella.
She was elevated beyond standard beauty into something more divine.
Even if the woman in the silver, sleeveless gown had been a complete
stranger, she would have stopped me in my tracks.
Her dark hair was set in a complex braid with a loose curl over her bare
neck, ending just where the metallic dress met her skin. She was radiant in
less makeup than most women wore to walk to their car, clutching her
matching purse in front of her chest with two hands, and most importantly,
a single earring in each ear.
My wife.
Jesus Christ, what good deed had I done to get her to marry me?
When she saw me, she relaxed, and I took my eyes away from hers long
enough to see the diamond ring from thirty feet away. It was my signature
on her.
For a moment, we seemed a few percentage points less fake, and instead
of making me nervous, the sliver of realness pleased me.
But that didn’t last long.
Like a smiling fucking vulture in pressed, tan linen and an open collar,
Caleb Hawkins swooped in with his trendy jacket and unruly hair, said
exactly the right thing—whatever that was—and she smiled.