Page 78 of Every Chance After

I finish the wine and hold my glass out to Elena for a refill.

“I knew you were a red,” she smirks.

“So, Marnie, do you like board games?” Carmela asks.

DoIlike board games? It’s like asking if a bank robber likes money or a race car driver likes going fast. I don’tlikeboard games; I adore them. Study them. Build them in my head. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night with a killer concept for my next project and can’t go back to sleep. That’s how much I love board games.

And yet, my thoughts jumble and race. Instead of relaxing with the wine, I’m overrun with angst over one sharp, prevailing thought.

I don’t belong here.

I’m just the woman with the ruined life, latching on to the man who pushed over the first domino.

“Bathroom?” I ask instead, the bar stool scraping the floor as I push out of it.

Seconds later, I’m behind a locked door of a guest bathroom. My hips ache as I shift to the counter and wobble against my cane. I’ve done too much today, and my body’s retaliating.

Worse, so is my head.

Warmth from the wine spreads through my belly, but it’s not giving me the jubilant feels I need for the occasion. It’s a game night, for goodness’ sake! It should be fun, witnessing a family at play.

Instead, it makes me wearily sad.

Sad for the house I never stepped foot in. That he never told me about. That he bought without me, knowing I’d go along with anything he wanted.

Sad for the home outside this door, the family game nights, kids running around, and big dinners that’ll never happen for me.

No wonder I don’t feel like I belong.

I don’t.

The last time I felt this out of place was, weirdly, that one night in high school that changed my trajectory. Was that a mistake, too?I miss Mom.

But I can’t think about that now. Deep, determined breaths firm my shoulders and help me resume my safe position on the riverbank of my rocky, emotional rapids.

No frowns, no fears, no tears.

When I leave the bathroom, my warmest, widest smile accompanies me.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE

Grady

Marina disappearsdown the hall for the bathroom, and I hope she’s okay. Earlier at the G&G and the dock, she seemed confident, hopeful, and excited. But here, even before Colin’s dick move, it’s like we took a wrong turn, evident in her uncertainty and wine-guzzling. It’s a family game night—she should enjoy this more than anyone.

As soon as I think it, the realization burns through me like wildfire—I’m a fucking idiot. This must be excruciating for her so soon after the accident. I destroy her chances for a family and then bash her over the head with mine to make sure she knows what she’s missing. I must have an advanced degree in being an asshole for how expertly I’m accomplishing it.

Appetite gone, I dump my plate in the sink between Elena and Mom as they theorize how much money Ashe must’ve put down on the expensive home.

“Does that matter?” I ask. “The entitled prick made that decision without her. What does that tell you?”

I’m unsure what shocks them most—that I volunteered an opinion or what I said. I don’t stay for more conversation, though I hear words like “controlling” and “awfully close to Cora” as I venture down the dimly lit hallway.

Marina’s cane catches on the doorjamb when she exits the bathroom, making her tumble into my arms. Her cane falls, and so does her plastered-on smile.

I say, “You okay?” as she says, “I’m okay.”

“Want to get out of here?” I blurt over her breathless, “I’m a little tired.”

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