Five years ago, I would have stormed over there and slapped them both senseless.
But now? I simply turned and walked away.
I wouldn't make a scene at my father's grave. He deserved peace, even in death.
When Ryan returned, he was holding a Protective Talisman Pendant.
My father had gotten them blessed for us himself—one for Ryan, one for me.
I handed him the hot coffee.
"Why are your ears so red?"
"Got too cold out there." He rubbed them sheepishly. "Sorry for making you wait."
I couldn't tell if his apology was just guilt over the delay—or something else entirely.
"When you went back for it, was anyone else at the cemetery?"
His eyes darted away.
"It was freezing. The place was empty."
We drove home in silence.
I closed my eyes, pretending to rest, but caught the slight curve at the corner of his lips.
I hadn't seen that expression in five years.
Alive. Animated. Brimming with barely contained joy.
Ever since my father died, Ryan had always been so careful around me—muted, walking on eggshells.
Everyone thought we had the perfect ending. In reality, we'd turned our marriage into something politely frozen.
We pulled into the driveway and walked inside, one after the other, without a word.
"Sandra..."
Ryan's hand froze mid-air, still holding his slippers.
That name.
Something dark and violent surged up from the pit of my stomach.
The crack of my palm against his face echoed through the hallway, bright enough to trigger the motion-sensor lights.
"Ryan Stephens. Are you awake now?"
"I'm Noreen Perez. Not Sandra."
"What's this—finished pouring your heart out and now you can't wait to take her home to bed?"
Ryan's eyes went wide, disbelief written across his face.
"You—you saw that?"
"Noreen, let me explain—"
I didn't move. Just stood there, waiting for his explanation.
He fumbled for words, then his head dropped in defeat.
"I'm sorry!"
Sorry. Again with the apologies. Five years of hearing those two words had worn them hollow.
Every time he said them, it was just another reminder that he'd actually betrayed what we had.
I used to be naive enough to believe that if Sandra Henson just disappeared, we could go back to how things were.
And what happened?
Sandra merely stood there, and our fragile bond crumbled to dust.
Because of the two of them, my father paid with his life.
Because of the two of them, I'd wasted ten years of mine.