Page 244 of Homewrecker

Even after eight months of searching, the house had taken almost an additional four months to find because Nash and I had nonnegotiables. He wanted yard space. I wanted windows. He wanted an office. I wanted an oversized kitchen. He even wanted a basement.

I informed him that we lived in Antionette, not some sitcom, and he needed to release that dream. But eventually, we found it.

The first time we walked through it, Nash had looked at me. “You see it?”

I did. The house looked like us. We had pictures everywhere, shoes by the door, and a throw blanket Eli refused to stop dragging across the floor.

Wine glasses occasionally left on the coffee table and unfortunately, Klair’s Lego masterpiece that was supposed to represent our family. There was Lego Nash, a Lego me, and a Lego Eli.

Eli ran through the room. “Aunt Klair, where are the cookies?”

“Kitchen!”

“Can I have two?”

“Take three!”

Nash turned. “Two!”

Klair rolled her eyes. “This is why children grow up oppressed.”

I laughed and Janelle walked through the front door without knocking. “Why is the door unlocked?”

“Because people are here,” I said.

She held up a bottle of wine. “I brought supplies.”

“See? That’s why you’re invited.”

The house filled quickly with food, music, and Eli running around. Nash’s friends came through and one of my newer girlfriends from a women’s business group arrived with dessert. Another friend I’d met in a pottery class that Sydnee suggested also came.

I sucked at pottery, but I had friends. Friends that were actual friends and not replacements. People who knew pieces of my history because I told them when it mattered. People who also knew my favorite wine, my terrible reality-TV opinions, and the fact that I hated voice notes longer than two minutes.

I had a fuller life.

I was opening another bottle of wine when the doorbell rang.

“I got it!” Eli ran.

“Walk!” Nash yelled.

He continued running.

“Great parenting,” I whispered.

“Shut up.”

A minute later, Eli came back carrying mail.

“This came for Blair.”

“Thank you.”

He handed me a small envelope with no return address. My name was written neatly across the front with the letter R and a heart above the wax seal.

My stomach dropped and Nash noticed. “You okay?”

I turned the envelope over. “Yeah.”