“And what did you tell her?” I asked.
He looked away.
“That you needed more time.”
I stared at him.
“For eight years?”
“Every time I thought about telling her, I remembered what she’d say when she found out.”
“So you kept lying.”
Sam nodded.
“And when I tried to reach her?”
“I was afraid she’d tell you what happened at the wedding.”
I stepped back.
“You weren’t protecting either of us, Sam. You were protecting yourself.”
He covered his face.
Vanessa whispered, “What have you done?”
Twenty minutes later, Lily arrived.
She had dark curls and Sam’s brown eyes.
She stood near the entrance, clutching a small wrapped box.
Nobody moved.
Then she looked at me.
“Rachel?”
I nodded.
She glanced at my frosting-stained sleeve.
“What happened?”
“It’s been a terrible evening.”
Her eyes moved toward Sam.
He stood.
“Lily, sweetheart.”
She stepped back.
