Page 47 of Secrets on Ice

“We don’t have to do this today. We can leave?”

She shakes her head. “No.” She lets out a breath and reaches for the door. “I want this over with.”

Okay, then. I climb out and open the back of the SUV. We’ve brought flattened boxes, tape, markers, and enough packing paper to move half of Wisconsin. Emmett and Ember are doing the same thing at her house, literally just down the road. Cassidy walks toward the front door but stops before putting her key into the lock. She must give herself an inner pep talk because she straightens her spine and then walks in. The house looks exactly how she left it. A pair of shoes beside the entry, mail stacked on the small table, a throw blanket folded over the couch. It’s strange seeing the proof of a marriage everywhere while knowing the marriage no longer exists. Cassidy drops her keys into the bowl near the door and stares at them.

“I bought that bowl on our honeymoon.” Her chin wobbles.

“Do you want it?” I ask her.

She looks at me. “The bowl?”

“Yeah.”

“No … um … I don’t know.”

I grab a marker and write MAYBE across one of the boxes.

“There, problem solved.” I place the bowl in the box, minus her keys because we need them.

Her mouth twitches. “That’s your solution?”

“We’ve got a keep, trash, and a maybe pile.”

“What about things I want to set on fire?” She smirks.

“They aren’t here, they’re at work,” I tease.

She gasps before giggling.

We start in the living room because it feels easier than walking into the bedroom. Cassidy points at things, and I pack them. Books, candles, art. A ridiculous decorative vase that looks like a twisted piece of metal.

“That’s ugly,” I tell her.

“It cost four hundred dollars.”

“That doesn’t make it less ugly,” I tell her.

“It was in a design magazine,” she argues.

“The magazine was wrong.”

She takes the vase from my hands and puts it in the keep box. “You have no taste.”

“I have excellent taste.”

“You live in a frat house.”

“It’s a bachelor pad, I grew up,” I throw back at her, which earns me an eye roll. For a few minutes, this almost feels normal. Cassidy bossing me around, me annoying her. Then she picks up a framed photo from the shelf. It’s from her wedding day. Trevor stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. She’s smiling at the camera while he looks down at her. I watch the smile disappear from her face.

“Cass.”

“I remember that day like it was yesterday.”

I stay quiet.

“The photographer kept telling him to look at me instead of the camera because it would be romantic.” She runs her thumb over the glass. “I thought he was looking at me because he loved me.”

“He did then.”