Chapter 3

It took Tatum half an hour to return home.

I slid the parking garage access card across the table toward him.

"Care to explain?"

Busy texting Hazel, Tatum didn't even look up.

"She doesn't have a fixed parking space at her rental, but there's one near her office, so I registered the parking permit under her name to make her commute easier."

"The car belongs to the family."

"So?"

At long last, he lifted his chin.

"We've been married for six years. Don't you think you're taking this whole sentimental-car thing a little too far?"

"My mother paid the car loan."

Back when we got married, Tatum claimed that money was tight.

My mother, Sierra Bennett, dipped into her savings to cover the initial deposit and three years of loan installments.

She said that since I was moving so far away to start a life with Tatum, I wouldn't have to worry about getting around in bad weather with a car.

Tatum's expression hardened.

"Anyway, the car belongs to the family. Stop going on about it like it's yours."

His phone lit up.

Hazel sent a picture of a dog throwing up.

The very next second, Tatum grabbed his car key.

"Hazel's dog is ill. I'm taking her to the vet."

I blocked the doorway.

"My mom has cataract surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning. You promised to drive her."

"The surgery isn't until nine. There's plenty of time."

"Mom's getting admitted tonight. I need to drop off her stuff now."

"Just call a ride."

I didn't step out of the way.

"Tatum, the car stays with me today."

He lowered his eyes to me, his tone as calm as ever.

"The dog is vomiting badly. If we wait, it could be serious. Sierra is only having a minor surgery. The hospital isn't going anywhere."

I looked him in the eye.

"So my mom matters less to you than her dog?"

"Stop putting words into my mouth."

He gripped my arm and pulled me aside.

"Brooke, you've become impossible to reason with these days."

Once the car zipped away, I hauled two suitcases to the hospital.

Sitting on the bench in the hallway, Sierra saw me and peered past my shoulder.

"Where's Tatum?"

"Something came up."

"Is he swamped again?"

She pulled a jar of homemade jam from the bag.

"He loves these. I won't be able to do much after surgery, so take them home for him."

Despite the lump in my throat, I took the jar from her.

The next day, after the surgery, Sierra still hadn't fully come around. I packed up the things she'd need during her stay and waited with her in the hospital room.

That afternoon, Tatum finally showed up.

Hazel was right behind him, her arms cradling the dog.

The dog snuggled up against a familiar piece of blue fabric.

I knew what it was the second my eyes lay on the cloth.

That was the scarf I spent hours knitting for Tatum by hand in the second year of our marriage.

At the time, he said that the color was too dark and that he'd never use it. When it disappeared from the closet, I assumed he had tucked it away in storage.

To my surprise, the scarf had been taken apart and used as bedding for the dog.

I reached out to grab it.

Hazel pulled the puppy closer into her arms.

"I'm sorry. Milo threw up and soiled his bedding last night. Tatum grabbed a piece of scrap in the trunk. I didn't know it was yours."

"Give it back."

"It's all stained now. Why don't I get you a new one?"

I still held out my hand.

"This was a gift from me to him."

Tatum stepped between us.

"It's just an old scarf. Do you have to pick a fight in front of your sick mother?"

Hearing the commotion, Sierra pushed herself up against the edge of the bed.

"It's alright, Brooke. Don't make it hard for Tatum."

Hazel said, her eyes tearful, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Bennett. I honestly didn't know."

Sierra, in turn, offered her comfort.

"Don't worry about it. The dog's well-being comes first. Brooke has always been a hard head. Don't take it to heart."

Staring at Sierra's eyes still covered in gauze, I let my hand fall back to my side.

With downcast eyes, Hazel petted her dog, and a string of pearls showed from her sleeve.

That was the last thing my father had given to my mother before he died.

A few days earlier, the clasp on the pearl bracelet had come loose. I'd planned to have it repaired when I got back from my business trip, so I'd tucked it into the storage pocket in the back seat.

"Where did you get this?"

Hazel ran her fingers over the pearls on her wrist.

"I found it in the car. Tatum said no one wanted it, so I thought I'd wear it for a few days."

I marched over to reach for the bracelet.

One step ahead of me, Tatum grabbed my arm.

The strand snapped, and the pearls bounced and rolled across the floor.