Page 147 of Faultlines

Lucy finally pulls out a folded copy of the Sacramento Gazette.

A newspaper. My brow pinches as I look between them. “People still buy these?”

“They leave them outside the coffee shop every Thursday,” Sloane mutters. “Normally they’re only good for fish tanks and lining birdcages.”

Lucy slides it over to me. “I almost recycled it.”

Slowly, I unfold the paper.

The front page is exactly what you’d expect. A photograph from a concert series. An article about a vineyard festival. High school sports.

I flip to the community section. My eyes drift lazily down the page until they stop on a colorful photograph. Blonde hair and a familiar smile. For a second, my brain refuses to connect the face with the name beneath it.

Then it does.

Local Business Owner Spencer Wardell Engaged to Brooke Whitmore

The accompanying photograph shows Brooke laughing, her left hand resting against Spencer’s chest, with the oversized diamond on her ring finger impossible to miss.

She looks...

Happy.

Uncomplicated.

Like none of it ever happened.

The article talks about how they were high school sweethearts. Mentions a brief separation followed by reuniting last year. It mentions their shared love of hiking, the wedding planned for this fall, and how excited they are to begin this new chapter together.

I don’t realize I’ve been holding my breath until my lungs force me to inhale. Sloane quietly takes the newspaper from my hands before it slips to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

I stare at the wood grain on the table, absently tracing one of the swirls with my fingertip. “She’s getting married.”

Lucy dips her chin once. “I thought you should know before you heard someone in town talking about it.”

A strange laugh escapes me. “Of course she’s getting married.” Neither of them interrupts. “I don’t know why that feels...” I shake my head, searching for the right word. “Final.”

Lucy reaches across the desk and covers my hand with hers. “Because it closes a chapter you never asked to be part of.”

For so long Brooke has existed in my mind as the woman who shattered my marriage. Frozen in time. Now she’s simply...

A bride-to-be.

Picking flowers.

Tasting wedding cake.

Choosing invitations.

Living her life like she wasn’t part of the devastation in mine.

I don’t envy her, but seeing her smile reminds me that everyone eventually gets to step out of the wreckage. Everyone except the people still learning how to live with the cracks it left behind.

“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay.” Lucy says.

Sloane tilts her head. “So, you don’t hate us?”