I shake my head slowly, back, and forth. I need to gauge my words. If I sound happy about this, Laura will feed off of my energy. She’ll be all giddy and stuff. I’m not in the mood for that. “She’s dead.”
Laura’s eyes look like they’re going to pop right out of her head. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” She slaps me again in the same spot. “Are you serious?”
Rubbing my arm, I answer her question, “Very. Travis called me in the middle of the night. Sobbing.”
“Of course, he was sobbing. What’s he going to do without his mommy?”
I hold up my hand. “He really did love his mom. It’s sad.”
“For him.” We say it at the same time.
“Trust me when I tell you this, Pru. The world is a better place without Celeste Coleman in it.”
Harsh. I admit, I detested the woman. She made my life a living hell, plus she did real damage to my marriage. But in the end, that was on me and Travis. Mostly Travis.
With her hand on her chest, Laura swears she didn’t do it. That she was in bed with a hot guy she met on Tinder around that time.
When the shock wears off, she hands me the bag. I peek inside. “Is that a bike computer?” It’s a device you attach to your bike that keeps track of your mileage, speed, and a bunch of other stuff.
“Yes. The one you wanted. I had a hell of a time finding a place that carried it.”
“I was going to order it.” Before all of the latest attorney’s fees and whatnot.
“Well, I had to grovel, and that is my way of apologizing for snooping into your text messages. I should’ve just waited to hear it from you.”
“You’re right.” Only, like I said before, I probably would have left out the specific things he said to me. You know, about my thighs and breasts.
I feel a shiver run through me, recollecting those texts. God, Travis is such an ass.
The front door of the shop chimes, letting us know we’ve got a customer. “I’ll get it.” When I step out, I see Nate. I lift my hand and wave. I also smile because I recall the funny stuff he said while under the influence of high-powered IV allergy medicine. Like…He loves me?The memory and the thought that there could be an inkling of truth to his statement gives me chills. Good ones. Scary ones.
“Prudence.” He approaches me holding out a beautiful, single red flower. I’m sure it’s from his garden.
I take it in hand and lift it to my nose. There’s not much fragrance, but it’s so pretty with its delicate red petals on the outside and a middle that goes from dark pink to light. The center has yellow stamen.
“It’s an aquilegia.” I must look perplexed because he adds, “Better known as Columbine.”
“Thank you. It’s lovely.”
“Thank you for taking me to the clinic.”
I glance at his forearms, the only part of him that’s exposed thanks to his short-sleeve tee with the Vicious Cycle logo on the front. “You look a lot better.”
“I feel much improved. Still a little itchy but the over-the-counter allergy pills help.”
“I’m glad.” I’m dying to tease him about everything he said the night before, but the man seems downright constipated.
“Nate.” Laura shouts from her favorite hiding place, her office.
“Yeah?”
“Is she telling you about Celeste? Travis’s mother?”
“No.” He stares down at me.
“She’s, um, dead.”
“Dead?”
