PART 6

My Stepchildren Put Sticky Notes on My Furniture at The

Everything.

For nineteen years.

I whispered,

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Michael’s answer broke something inside me.

“Because he knew you would help.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

“He said you would want to take care of her.”

I stared.

“Then why hide it?”

“Because he didn’t want you to feel obligated.”

I laughed bitterly.

“So he lied to me to protect me?”

Michael nodded.

“That was his thinking.”

I sat down.

For nineteen years, I had believed Laura was a secret Frank had hidden because he still loved her.

But the truth was stranger.

He had hidden her because he was afraid I would give too much of myself.

That was Frank.

Always protecting everyone except himself.

Diane was crying quietly.

“Does Laura know Dad died?”

Michael nodded.

“She does.”

“How?”

“I told her.”

“Why isn’t she here?”

Michael looked at me.

“Because she asked me not to bring her.”

“Why?”

“She said this was your day.”

I looked down.

My hands were shaking.

“What does she want?”

“She wants you to come to the cottage.”

I stared at the brass key.

“Why?”

Michael smiled sadly.

“Because Frank left something there.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then how do you know?”

“Because Frank gave me instructions.”

He reached into his briefcase and removed another sealed envelope.

This one was marked:

EILEEN — AFTER YOU MEET LAURA

My heart broke again.

“You knew all of this before today.”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Six months.”

I stared at him.

“Frank knew he was dying.”

Michael nodded.

“And he prepared everything.”

I looked toward Diane and Ross.

They were no longer interested in the furniture.

The sticky notes were still everywhere.

Pink.

Blue.

Ridiculous little pieces of paper marking objects that suddenly seemed meaningless.

I stood.

“Let’s go.”

Diane rose too.

“Can I come?”

I looked at her.

For nineteen years, she had treated me like an intruder.

Today, for the first time, she looked like a daughter who had lost her father.

“Yes.”

Ross stood.

“I’ll come too.”

I looked at him.

“Only if you’re coming to listen.”

He nodded.

“I’m coming to listen.”

We left the house together.

For the first time in nineteen years, Frank’s children walked beside me without walking ahead of me.

---

The cottage was forty minutes outside town.

I remembered it immediately.

The white fence.

The oak tree.

The small porch.

The blue shutters.

I had been here once.

Twenty years ago.

Before I married Frank.

Before I knew what the place meant.

Michael unlocked the door.

We stepped inside.

The house was warm.

There were photographs everywhere.

Not of Frank and Laura.

Mostly landscapes.

Flowers.

A little girl.

I stopped.

There was a photograph of a baby.

A tiny girl wrapped in a yellow blanket.

My heart clenched.

“That’s her,” Michael said.

I stared.

“Frank’s daughter?”

“No.”

He looked at me.

“That’s Laura’s niece.”

I frowned.

Then I heard a voice from the hallway.

“You’re Eileen.”

I turned.

A woman stood there.

She was older than I expected.

Her hair was silver.

Her face was thin.

But her eyes were still green.

Laura Bennett.

She smiled faintly.

“You look exactly like he described.”

I couldn’t speak.

She came closer.

“I am sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the pain this has caused you.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t know what to feel.”

Laura nodded.

“I know.”

She looked at Diane.

Then Ross.

“My condolences.”

Diane started crying again.

“You knew my father?”

Laura smiled.

“I knew Frank before he became your father.”

Ross looked uncomfortable.

“Did you love him?”

Laura looked at me before answering.

“Yes.”

The honesty of it hurt.

But I respected her for it.

“Do you still?”

Laura took a breath.

“Not the way you think.”

She sat down.

“Some loves become memories. Some become gratitude.”

I sat across from her.

“Why did he hide you from me?”

Laura looked toward the window.

“Because he loved you.”

I almost laughed.

“That’s a strange way to show it.”

“I know.”

She reached for a small box.

“He wanted you to have this.”

She placed it on the table.

I opened it.

Inside was a wedding ring.

Frank’s first wedding ring?

No.

It wasn’t.

It was a tiny silver bracelet.

There was a name engraved on it.

Emily.

I looked up.

“Who is Emily?”

Laura’s eyes filled with tears.

“My daughter.”

I stared.

“But Michael said the baby died.”

“She did.”

Laura touched the bracelet.

“Emily was the name Frank chose.”

My heart broke.

“Why didn’t I know?”

“Because Frank couldn’t bear to tell you.”

She looked at me.

“He thought if you knew about Emily, you would think you were living in someone else’s shadow.”

I shook my head.

“I never would have.”

“I know.”

Laura smiled sadly.

“But Frank didn’t.”

She reached into the box again.

There was a letter.

“That’s his final letter to you.”

I took it.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

I opened it.

And read.

Eileen,

If you have reached this cottage, then I have finally run out of time to explain everything myself.

I am sorry.

Not because I loved Laura once.

I am sorry because I spent nineteen years being afraid that the truth would hurt you more than the secret.

I was wrong.

Laura was part of the life I had before you.

You were the life I chose.

There is a difference.

Emily was a child I lost.

You were the woman who taught me how to keep living afterward.

I never wanted you to feel like second place.

You were never second.

You were the person who made first place matter.

I couldn’t read anymore.

I pressed the letter against my chest.

Diane was crying.

READING THE NEXT PART 7 👇