Leaving You All Behind

"Is the dress not fitting right?"

The sales associate picked up the dress, patted it down, and handed it back to me with both hands.

The bodice was covered in hand-sewn beadwork and embroidery, and the train glittered with rhinestones.

I stared at the dress for a moment. "It's beautiful, but it's not my size."

The dress was one size too small around the waist. No matter what I did, the zipper wouldn't close.

"Olivia Horton, size XS. That should be your size, right? You and your husband came in for measurements last time, but one of my coworkers helped you."

She handed me the customer information form, and my hands started shaking as soon as I looked at it.

The date was the 15th of last month, my birthday.

Hank Graham had been away on a business trip. Mom and Dad had been hosting some old friends, and my brother, Chester Horton, had said he was tied up at work.

But the form showed that four people had come in that day.

Hank and I had been engaged since last year, and I'd asked him more than 50 times to schedule our pre-wedding photos. He always said he didn't have time.

But the form showed they'd already taken nine different sets of wedding photos that cost 69,500 dollars.

There was even a family portrait listed under the add-ons, the same one I'd brought up over and over again at dinner.

I'd spent all that time trying to work around everyone's schedules. Looking at that form now, all that effort felt like a joke.

They weren't too busy. They just didn't want to take those pictures with me.

I took a photo of the form and walked out into the main area, only to find it empty.

A voice message from Hank came through on my phone.

"Babe, a last-minute meeting came up at work, so I had to leave. If you find a dress you like, just use my card."

Less than three minutes later, Mom, Dad, and Chester called one after another. They all had some excuse about suddenly not feeling well or something coming up at work.

My heart sank.

Last July, I'd suddenly gotten appendicitis. I called Hank, but he declined the call almost immediately.

I texted Mom and Dad, but neither of them replied. I called Chester over and over, but couldn't get through.

I tried to walk to the hospital in the pouring rain, but I passed out on the way. A stranger found me and got me to the hospital.

Later, Hank said he hadn't had his phone with him. Mom and Dad said they'd been cooking and hadn't seen my messages. Chester said he'd had his phone on silent because he was working.

Then there was our engagement celebration last December. I waited at the restaurant from noon until midnight, but not one of them showed up.

Hank said his flight had been delayed. Mom and Dad said their car had broken down on the way. Chester said he'd had to work late at the last minute.

Bit by bit, it all started to make sense.

Every time something important came up in my life, all of them somehow had a reason not to be there. There was no way that was a coincidence.

They hadn't been missing those moments because they were busy. They'd been doing it to keep Olivia happy.

I stared at the address at the bottom of the photo, then flagged down a cab.

"Alder Cove, Building 18."

I wanted to see for myself what the other home they'd been hiding from me was really like.