“That is how, not why.”
June stared at the pillowcase in her hands.
“I wanted him to have an easier life.”
Marisol nodded.
“And did he?”
June thought about Ethan’s townhouse.
His leased SUV.
Claire’s engagement ring.
The party.
The champagne.
“Yes.”
Marisol tilted her head.
“Did you?”
That question stayed with June through thirteen rooms.
At lunch, she checked her phone.
Five missed calls from Ethan.
Two from Claire.
One message from Ethan.
Please call me. Claire says you’re planning to cancel the florist.
June frowned.
She had not called the florist.
Then another message.
We already told them you were covering it.
June stared.
She read it again.
We already told them you were covering it.
Something moved through her.
Not anger first.
Clarity.
They had treated an assumption as a promise.
June walked into the employee stairwell and called Ethan.
He answered immediately.
“Mom.”
“You told the florist I was paying?”
A pause.
“Claire did.”
“Did you correct her?”
“Mom, can we not start like this?”
June closed her eyes.
“Did you correct her?”
