Though most of the attendees were practically strangers, I, at least, recognized them. But these two women, the blonde and the brunette, were unknown to me. How was it possible, then, that they both had fresh tears in their eyes over my husband’s passing?
Becca stirred in my arms, bringing me back to reality, and I began to bounce with her as I hadn’t done since she was an infant. I needed her to stay calm, stay asleep. We just needed to get through the day, through that moment, and then I swore to myself everything would be okay.
No.
Everything would be better.
After the ceremony ended, people began to retreat to their cars almost immediately. A few gave Becca and me swift hugs and kind words. One woman asked if she could have a meal sent to our home. I accepted their condolences with grace but denied the meal. Cooking was the one thing that kept me sane, so I was happy to prepare our meals.
To my surprise, the two strange women didn’t leave with the others. The raven-haired beauty stood back at the edge of the tent, wiping her hands across her cheeks as the tears fell. The blonde was inching closer and closer toward the casket, her eyes swimming with tears, though she made no move to dry them. She pulled another cigarette from the pocket of her sweater, her hands shaking as she lifted the lighter to the end.
I shielded Becca from the smoke, huffing. “Do you mind?” I asked.
She looked confused for a moment, then shoved the cigarette back into her pocket. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I…um…” She put a hand to her lips, her voice gravelly from smoking. Finally, she said, “I’m Clara. You must be Naomi.”
I nodded, surprised that she knew me when I had no idea who she was. “Uh, yes. Yes, I am.”
“I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said, her voice powerless.
“Thank you. Um, h-how did you know Lucas?”
She folded one arm across her body as if she were overcome with a chill. “We worked together.”
“At the hospital? Are you a nurse?”
“A doctor,” she corrected, making me feel like a terrible feminist. “Surgeon. Like Luke.”
Luke. I’d always hated that shortening of my husband’s name. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay. And I know I shouldn’t be smoking. I haven’t in a few years, actually, but…I needed it today.” Her eyes were cold then. Distant. As if she had something else she wanted to say. There was a weight to her shoulders I hadn’t noticed before. After a silent moment, she sighed, and the emotion evaporated from her face.
“I’m not sure any of the usual rules apply today.” I paused, a shiver running over me. “Were you two close, then? You and Lucas?”
More tears filled her eyes as I nodded toward his casket. “You didn’t know…I thought he’d—” It wasn’t a question. Her lips were pressed into a thin line of confirmation. Didn’t know what? She waved a hand at me. “It doesn’t matter now, but I thought he’d told you about me. We’d…we’d been dating for about twelve years.”
Her sentence took the wind straight out of me, and I moved a step backward. “You were…dating my…my husband?” I asked, my face wrinkled with confusion. Surely I’d just heard her wrong. It wasn’t possible.
Her jaw dropped, but before she could answer, the woman in the corner stepped toward us, interrupting. “Hold on a second,” she said, tears still falling as her voice turned from grief to confusion. “You were both seeing Lucas? This Lucas?” She gestured toward the oversized portrait of him next to the casket.
I scoffed. “I wasn’t seeing him, I was married to him. What concern is it of yours?” I demanded, rage bubbling in my belly. “Who are you, anyway?” My body trembled with anger as I stared between the two women, both of them doing the same as we sized each other up.
She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m Alaina. We…we were engaged,” the woman said, her voice trembling as she spoke. She placed her thin, pale fingers over her lips, and I wondered for a split second if she were going to be sick. “I knew he’d lied to me when I saw the obituary. I knew he had a wife, but…he was cheating on me with two women?” She clutched her chest, looking down as she swiped fresh tears from her eyes. A diamond ring glistened on her finger. “I can’t believe this…”
“He wasn’t cheating on you,” I argued. “He was cheating on me…with you! I’m his wife. I’m the one who should be upset!”
“I didn’t know about either of you,” Clara said, stepping out of the triangle we’d unintentionally formed. Her face had gone ashen, the little bit of life left in her a moment ago appeared to have been zapped. “Honestly.”
I looked at her, my heart pounding in my chest. It was entirely possible that I was going to pass out at any moment. Lucas couldn’t have been cheating on me. I would’ve known. I would’ve sensed it, wouldn’t I? I had access to everything—his phone, our bank accounts. I wasn’t just a complacent spouse. I knew everything. We had no secrets.
Not anymore.
I’d discovered them.
Figured them out and taken care of them.
He knew better than to hide anything from me.
And yet, apparently, he had. He’d kept secrets so big they could ruin everything, and they were staring at me, waiting for me to answer the questions in their eyes.
“You knew about me, though,” I said finally, looking directly at Clara. “You knew my name. Who I was.”
“Yes. I…uh, I knew about you.” She blinked slowly. “But not about your relationship. He told me he had a sister named Naomi who lived with him,” she said. “I assumed that was you. He said he was helping to raise her daughter. It wasn’t until the pastor said husband and father that I began to realize I didn’t know that much about him at all.” A shadow cast over her expression again as she shifted in place. “Luke was good at keeping secrets. I just never realized they’d be this big.”
“A-a sister?” I couldn’t believe it, though the truth was there in her eyes. “He said I was his sister? He said Becca wasn’t his…” I lowered my voice as I watched the pastor growing nearer to our tent, having said goodbye to the final guest. “His daughter?”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, watching me stagger backward. “Do you want me to take her?” She gestured toward Becca who was beginning to wake in my arms as my knees shook under our weight. The whole world went blurry as I tried to process what I was being told. It was impossible.
“Don’t touch my daughter,” I said angrily, jerking her back from Clara’s reaching grasp.
“I can’t believe that bastard did this to us,” Alaina said.
“Language!” I chided. Becca’s eyes were open then, and she stared around.
“Mommy?” she asked. “Where are we?”
“Is everything all right?” the pastor asked.
Alaina rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist. “I just want to see him and say goodbye. None of this matters anymore anyway, does it?”
“He was my husband,” I said through bared teeth, my eyes flicking toward the pastor as I ignored the question, still consumed with what I was discovering. “This is my life. Of course, it matters.”