Page 113 of Most Likely to Fear Love

“Everything,” I confirmed, my chest tight with the weight of secrets I’d kept for far too long. “Just let me shower first. I smell like wine and bad decisions.”

“Honey, that’s just our natural perfume,” Mia called after me as I headed for my bedroom.

Under the hot spray of the shower, I tried to organize my thoughts, but they kept circling back to one truth: I was tired of carrying this alone. Tired of the half-truths and careful omissions. Tired of letting my past get in the way of my future, too.

When I came out ten minutes later, freshly dressed and marginally more human, the girls had arranged themselves in my living room like a jury about to hear a capital case. Maya pressed a steaming mug into my hands and guided me to the empty armchair they’d clearly designated as the hot seat.

They sat, forming a semi-circle around me. The expectant silence hung heavy, and for a moment, I didn’t know where to start.

My mouth opened, then closed. “Fuck, this is even harder than I thought.”

Poppy leaned forward, her pink hair falling into her eyes. “Cassidy, it’s us. Whatever it is, we’re here for you.”

They all nodded in agreement, giving me all the encouragement I needed.

Clutching my coffee mug like a lifeline, I began. “Okay. You all know about Brian. How I thought I married the perfect guy. How it turned out he was... not.”

“That asshole,” Mia muttered, while Emily reached over to squeeze her hand.

“The thing is, you don’t know the whole story. No one does.” I looked at Hannah. “Not even you.”

Hannah’s face softened, all traces of her earlier irritation vanishing. “Tell us, Cass.”

The story spilled out then, like a dam breaking. Brian’s other wife, the house in Wilson, the careful web of lies he’d woven. With each word, the weight I’d been carrying for years grew lighter, even as my friends’ expressions darkened with anger and hurt – not at me, but for me.

When I finally fell silent, Annie was crying quietly, Maya looked ready to commit murder, and Hannah... Hannah just looked devastated that I’d carried this alone for so long. “Where is he now?” she asked.

“We don’t know. Neither of us have seen him since it all went down. But we’re going to find out where he is, because bigamy is a crime in this state. We’re going to press charges, to make sure that he can’t do this to anyone else, ever again.”

“Well, that’s fucking excellent!”

I shot Samara a grateful look. I so desperately needed their support right now, and I was getting it in spades.

“There’s one more thing.” I stood, setting my coffee mug down on the table before walking to my purse. My fingerstrembled slightly as I pulled out the scrapbook and turned to face them. “This... Brian kept this at Michelle’s house. Like some sort of trophy.”

“That fucking shit stain!” Hannah exploded, jumping to her feet.

“Michelle’s therapist says he probably had similar things at each house.” My voice was steadier now. “He got off on it, on keeping pieces of each of us, watching us dance to his tune without knowing about each other.”

Opening the book to my entry, I handed the book to Poppy, who’d done our wedding cake. “I don’t know how you knew, all those years ago, that I’d be so afraid of love, but I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

Poppy’s wide eyes met mine. “So, what are you going to do?”

I inhaled deeply, the resolve building within me like a storm ready to break. “I’m going to see Harle.”

The fact that none of the others asked me who Harle was, let me know that Hannah and Mia had already filled them in.

Emily was the first to move, stepping forward and gently pushing me toward the door. “Off you go then. We’ll wait here, just in case it turns to shit and you need us to catch you.”

They herded me outside like a flock of well-meaning but bossy sheep. Just as I was reaching for my car door, Hannah’s arm shot out.

“Wait!” she gasped.

I turned back, startled. “What is it?”

She darted to her truck and returned clutching a thick, creamy envelope. The kind that felt important just from the weight of it. She held it out, looking suddenly sheepish.

“What’s this?” I asked, frowning as I took it.

---