Page 124 of One Night Only
There are no articles about that of course. No public notices or photos of them yelling at each other.
I mean, they obviously got a divorce. Declan would have said something. Paul would have said something. Especially when he knows my history.
They would have saidsomething.
But they didn’t.
My skin grows cold as a new thought strikes me. Did she die?
Is Declan a widower?
Is there some tragic death at play here? Did he sit by her hospital bed as she fought for her life, run over by a car? No, a bus. A plane crash?
A murderer.
Is that why no one mentioned her? Is that why he was so awkward at the wedding? Because it reminded him so much of his dead wife?
I put my wine on the coffee table, not trusting myself not to spill it. It’s the right move. I’m halfway through a list of Irish death notices when my phone vibrates, terrifying me.
Annie’s name flashes up.
For one horrible second, I think about not answering but I push that thought from my mind as quickly as it came. If anyone’s been keeping secrets from me, it’s not her.
She doesn’t wait for me to answer when I accept the call. “Sandia’s closed down,” she says. “Everything is closing in this city. Where am I going to get my eyebrows done now?”
“How about a million other places?” Paul’s muffled voice calls from somewhere in the background.
“I don’t want somewhere else.”
“Then don’t get them done. No one’s going to notice.”
“I’ll notice,” she yells. I hear rustling as she moves to another room. A door closes. “Paul says hi. I forgot how small our apartment is here. We’re driving each other crazy.” She gasps. “You’ll never guess who I saw yesterday.”
I turn back to the death notices, still scrolling. “Who?”
“Tammy Wells! Do you remember her? She’s pregnant. Withtwins.”
“Crazy.”
“She looks great too. I think I hate her now.”
I rest my head against the cushion. “Hey, Annie?”
“Yes?”
I hesitate, clicking back to the blog. God. If it sounds this stupid in my head what’s it going to sound like when I say it out loud? “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Do you want to get lunch with me and Paul tomorrow? Paul’s mom is coming to stay for a few days, so we’re pretty packed entertaining her. I won’t have much time to see you. We can meet you near the office.”
I switch my phone to my other ear.
Wife.
“You still there?”
“Yes,” I say, zooming in on Fiona’s face. “Sorry. Lunch would be great.”
“Are you okay? You sound weird.”
