I didn’t turn to see him pull out of the driveway. My mother’s pearl earrings weighed down on my neck, cold and hard, a weight that seemed to pull my chin toward the concrete.
A group of four guys walked past me from the city parking lot. Their laughter subsided as they looked at me. I lifted my chin, staring at the brass handle of the heavy wooden door, not wanting to look at them.
Would he really go back to our kitchen and leave me on the sidewalk?
The thought of walking into the dining hall alone made my stomach turn, but the sight of Jake, Lily, and Noah sitting at the table with an empty chair was even worse. They had been saving for this dinner for two months, taking turns at the hardware store and the clinic.
I reached out and opened the heavy door. The brass felt cool under my fingers.
The heat in the lobby hit me first, a thick wave of air carrying the scent of roasted garlic and melted butter. From the dining room, beyond the dark oak partition, came the soft hum of twenty different conversations.
A young woman in a black jacket stood behind the podium, holding a stack of leather-bound menus to her chest.
“Good evening, welcome to The Gilded Lantern,” she said, her smile fading slightly as she looked at my face.
I reached up and touched my cheek, which was damp. I didn’t realize I was crying until the warm air brushed my skin, making the cold wind on my neck even sharper.
“I have a reservation,” I said, my voice shaking more than I would have liked, even as I tried to steady my breathing. “The name is Miller.”
The hostess tapped her finger on the computer screen, and her gaze traveled to mine with quiet, professional compassion.
to be continued soon…”
