I hadn’t read those emails yet, either. I just couldn’t, and now the thought of them sat in my mind like a tumor.

Being with my family would be a good distraction.

My parents’ house had been redecorated since the last time I was over, before Nathan died. Everything was now white, save for the abused “pop of color” notion that embodied itself in orange throw pillows—three in a line on the couch, one on each white chair.

I went into the kitchen. “Hi, everyone.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” my mother said. “We all want to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m okay,” I lied. There was no way in hell that I’d tell them about finding the emails.

“One month is usually a turning point,” she said. “Especially since you really didn’t know Nathan very long.” She poured herself some wine and fluffed her stiff hair, ignoring the fact that her words had just stabbed me.

I remember going to one of her book signings, where people would break down, telling her how her wisdom and kindness had changed their lives. She’d take them in her arms and often wipe away her own tears. Genuine tears.

She’d always been better with strangers.

“Hello, my darling!” said Gram-Gram. “Oh, you look so pretty! Shall we have lunch together sometime?”

“That would be really nice, Gram-Gram.”

“I have a wake to go to tomorrow. Would you like to come to that? We could get sushi afterward. Did you know sushi is raw fish? I just found that out!”

“Yes to the sushi, no to the wake,” I said, forcing a smile.

“How’s my princess?” Dad asked, coming inside from where he’d been avoiding the rest of us. He squeezed my shoulder.

“I’m fine, Dad. How are the Yankees?”

“Horrible this year. The Orioles, though—shockingly good so far.”

“Nice call the other night. At second?”

He grinned, the eternal boy of summer. “Thanks, babe. It was a close one, but the replay proved me right.”

“Hey, Kate,” Sean said, giving me the requisite fraternal half hug. Even better, he gave me Sadie.

“Hi, sweet pea,” I said, kissing her head and breathing in her smell. “Hi, Esther, hi, Mattie.” The other kids gave me dutiful hugs. “God, Matthias, you’re getting tall.”

“So good to see you,” said Kiara, kissing me on both cheeks. “The kids have missed you!”

“Is this true?” I asked my nephew.

“Absolutely,” he lied, the good-hearted boy.

Sadie wriggled to get down, then tugged on Esther’s skirt. “Come play!” she demanded, the little tyrant. My arms felt lonely without her.

“Please stay off the white chairs and couch,” Mom called.

“How have you been?” Kiara asked, her eyes kind. “Do you need anything from me?”

Drugs? She was a doctor. How about some nice anesthesia? For a second, I thought about asking her to come stay with Ainsley and me for a few days. We could make margaritas and binge-watch trashy reality TV shows.

But Kiara was a surgeon, and a mother of three. She didn’t have time to babysit her middle-aged sister-in-law. “I’m doing okay, I think,” I said. “Sleeping better.” A total lie.

“Good, honey,” she said. There was a crash from the living room.

“Kiara, those couches are brand-new.” My mother sighed. Kiara lifted an elegant brow at me and went to check on the state of the white.

Still, this night was the Check On Kate Night, and in a way, it was nice. Sean, being the provider of the grandchildren and a surgeon, usually got the most attention, and Ainsley got a fair amount, too (though not always the best kind...the sort of sad, squinty type my mother was so good at). Then again, Ainsley was Dad’s favorite, being Michelle’s daughter.

Me, I was always a little invisible. Which was usually okay, being able to drift in and out without so much attention or criticism. Sean called me the family ninja. But now, with Nathan gone, I felt too invisible, like I was disappearing bit by bit, parts of me dripping onto the sidewalk and evaporating. I wasn’t Kate O’Leary as much as Nathan’s Widow, left alone in his house, in his town, in his life.

And knowing that he’d kept a secret from me—a huge secret, it felt like—made me wonder if the validity of my widowhood was being taken from me. I was in mourning for this guy I’d known less than a year, but maybe he wasn’t the man I thought. All those emails might tell a different story, one of infidelity or longing for his old life.

“It’s so good to have all of us together,” Mom said. I gave her a pointed look. “Well, except for Ainsley, of course. How is she? She’s well rid of that Eric. Oh, there was something your father wanted to ask you.” This was her line whenever she had something awkward to say.

Dad stayed mute, so Mom kept going. “He wanted to know, did Nathan have life insurance? That is to say, will you be all set financially?”

I sighed. “I can support myself, Mom. I have for a long time, in case you forgot.”

“I haven’t forgotten. Please stop taking offense at everything I say, though it’s natural to lash out at those with whom you feel safe when you’re grieving.” She looked pleased with herself at the line, which basically excused her from any responsibility and made me look like an unstable ass. “Did he, though?”

I paused. “Yes.”

“Is it enough?”

“It’s fine. Yes. It was...generous.”

“Oh, hooray!” Gram-Gram said. “You’re a wealthy woman! Let’s take a trip!”

I was wealthy. His insurance policy had been for more than a million dollars. The house was also in my name. There’d been some money for Atticus and Miles, too, but the bulk of everything was left for me, his wife of ninety-six days.

Now it reeked of guilt-money.

I would have to read those emails, damn it.

“Did you guys see Eric on TV?” Matthias asked. “I can’t believe that guy! He’s such a d-i-c-k.” He smiled at Sadie. “That means stupid person.”

“I not stupid!”

“Nope. You’re supersmart.”

We passed the platters of food around—salmon, spinach and Mom’s special couscous with the pine nuts. All my favorites. Though she wasn’t the cuddliest mother in the world, it was awfully nice that she’d made this dinner for me.

We fell silent for a few minutes, and I watched as my brother, parents, nephew and nieces shoveled in the food. Kiara shook her head and gave me a smile. Nathan once told me his mother insisted that he and Brooke take a bite, put the fork down, chew, swallow and pause before taking another bite. They’d have starved to death in our family.

I took a bite of the fish. It tasted like nothing. There was only texture, and therefore disgusting, too mushy. The spinach was no better, slimy and limp. I forced myself to swallow.

“This is so good, Ma,” Sean said, already getting seconds.

“Good, honey. I made all your favorites.”

I should’ve known.

My mother tapped her glass in that pretentious way she had when announcing a new book deal or tour. “Kids, there’s no easy way to say this. Your father and I—grandfather and I, Matthias and Esther—are getting a divorce.”

“And here we go again,” Sean muttered.