ALMOST

Her heart pounded. “I love you,” she blurted, heat rising in her face. She’d meant to be more subtle than that, but did it matter who said it first?

He gave her a sad smile. “I love you too.”

Her heart leapt. At last!

Then he dropped one hand and patted the other. “Our parents would have loved you. They always hoped for a daughter.”

Her hands stiffened in his. What?

“I wish George was still here so I could thank him. He gave me the sister I always wanted.”

For a moment, she didn’t understand. Then his words settled like frost in her chest. The warmth drained from the room, and she shivered.

He squeezed her hand, then let it go as well. “I just stopped by to see how you’re doing. But I can’t join you for dinner tonight, I have a date.”

Marion stood speechless, as her world fell apart.

“You know her, actually. Remember the cute redhead from George’s funeral home? I think she just might be ‘the one’. Too bad it took his death to bring us together, or we might never have met.”

He leaned forward and kissed her frozen cheek. “Take care of yourself, I’ll pop in again next month. Maybe the three of us can go for dinner.”

And he was gone. Marion listened until the sound of his engine died in the distance.

The chandelier overhead glared down, harshly exposing the empty foyer. She turned and trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. The silence grew, pressing in around her. For the first time, she understood how large the house was—and how empty. A sudden awareness of her solitude settled over her like a weight.

After changing into stretch pants and an oversized sweater, Marion slipped on a pair of ridiculous high-heeled slippers–the ones she wore because George always said they made her legs look great. She found herself missing his silly lopsided grin.

She gave herself a brisk shake. This wasn’t the end for her. She had all George’s money now. There were other men in the world. Even better looking than Peter.

In the meantime, there was a delicious meal waiting downstairs. No point wasting it.

Marion flounced out of her bedroom, toward the landing. She’d meant to replace the rug but never got around to it. Anyway, she was always careful.

As she stepped high over the unmended section, the back of her slipper drooped, and the heel snagged.

She tripped.

Her eyes flew wide as she gasped. She flailed her arms. One hand brushed the slick banister…

For one breathless moment, she almost caught herself.

Almost.