THE GUARD POINTED AT THE empty seat at the table, and I sat down across from her.
Two weeks outside of Lucian’s passing, I still wore the burden of grief on my face. But my dress was designer, and the heels were too, and I’d never made an effort to look any better than I had that day.
The visit wasn’t a surprise. I had to file an application in advance, and she had to agree to it. That was how it came to pass that I was sitting across from the empty void in prison orange. She was a plain-featured woman with limp, stringy brown hair that had begun to gray at the roots. Her face was without makeup, but even if it were, I doubted it would have improved her appearance.
She was no threat to me, and I wanted to make that clear when I sat up straighter, acting the part of a lady even though I felt anything but. The truth was, at that moment, I wanted to murder her. I had visions of grabbing that stringy brown hair and smashing her head into the table over and over. For a second, I thought it might make me feel better, but the reality was that nothing could. I’d had two weeks to come to terms with that unwavering fact.
“I wondered if I would ever meet you,” Nessie said. Her words were deliberate. A play that let me know she was aware of me before I ever gave her a second thought. She picked at her nail, and her lips twisted into a wistful smile. “My mom still keeps tabs on Lucian. Well, I mean she did, anyway. She used to send them to me whenever there was a new article.”
I forced my fingers around the bench beneath me to keep from wrapping my hands around her throat. I’d given a lot of thought to what I would say when I came here. Initially, I’d set out with the intention of laying into her. I would tell her what a piece of shit excuse for a human she was, and I would express how much I wished she were dead instead of him. But in doing that, I’d be giving her exactly what she wanted. She was still infatuated with Lucian, and my hatred for her would only stoke that flame because it would prove she was something I should care about one way or the other.
I didn’t come here to play her games. I came to play mine.
“Well, here I am.” I flashed her an exaggerated smile. “In the flesh. Was I everything you imagined I would be?”
Her eyes carved a path over my face, my clothes, my body language. She took it all in, and she didn’t like what she saw, but she would never admit it. “Lucian’s always had a thing for brunettes.” She curled a lock of hair around her finger. “Since me.”
I made a gesture to my own hair, intentionally flashing my wedding ring so that she would see. “He loved my hair. Especially the curls. Whenever I wore it curly, it drove him crazy.”
The smile on her lips faltered. Her hair was stick straight.
“I bet you were curious about me too.” She leaned forward. “The first woman in his life. That must be why you came here.”
My shoulder lifted in a dainty shrug. “Lucian never really spoke of you, to be frank. But I guess I was a little curious.”
I laughed, but Nessie didn’t.
My smile ebbed away, and I folded my hands together in my lap. “The truth is, ever since he told me about Dawson, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. I think about him often. About how I could have been a good mother to him, if I’d had the chance.”
“I was his mother,” Nessie snarled. “Not you.”
“Yes, that’s true,” I agreed. “Unfortunately.”
She was quiet, but her hospitality was wearing thin. I could tell she wanted to direct the conversation back to Lucian. She wanted to make me feel insecure in the time we had together. In the life we were only just beginning to build. But I wanted her to know that she never could.
“Things will be different with this baby.” I placed a hand over my stomach. “He will only ever know love.”
Nessie stared at my stomach, her eyes ablaze with rage and disbelief.
“I was thinking I’d name him after his father,” I added. “And his brother, for the middle name.”
“You can’t do that,” she spat.
I offered her a pacifying smile. “It’s what Lucian would have wanted.”
Her eyes cut into me, and she lowered her voice to a growl when she spoke. “You have no idea what he wanted.”
“I do actually.” I gestured to the guard, alerting them I was ready to leave. “It was me. It was always me.”