Chapter 6 - The Secret Beneath the Headstone
Three months later, Nicholas asked me to go somewhere with him.
He wouldn't say where.
When the car stopped, I stared through the window.
The cemetery.
“No.”
“Claire.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Trust me.”
“That sentence has historically gone badly for us.”
“Fair.”
He stepped out.
I followed.
Nicholas walked toward his grave.
The black marble stone still stood there.
NICHOLAS MORETTI.
I folded my arms.
“You're becoming attached to this thing.”
“It's useful.”
“For what?”
“Tax purposes.”
I stared at him.
He smiled.
“Joke.”
“You're terrible at being a normal person.”
“I'm learning.”
A man waited beside the grave.
The cemetery director.
Nicholas nodded to him.
The man walked away.
I frowned.
“What is happening?”
Nicholas handed me a small envelope.
Inside was a document authorizing removal of the headstone.
“You're taking it down?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I'm done being dead.”
Simple words.
But they hit harder than I expected.
Workers approached.
They carefully lifted the stone.
Beneath it was an empty grave.
I stared down.
“There was never anyone there.”
“No.”
“I knew that logically.”
“I know.”
“But seeing it…”
Nicholas stood beside me.
I looked at him.
“What happens now?”
“I thought you could decide.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“The great Nicholas Moretti is asking someone else to make a decision?”
“Don't get used to it.”
I smiled.
Then noticed something near the flowers.
A small brass plaque.
I picked it up.
There was an inscription.
HERE LIES THE WORST DECISION NICHOLAS MORETTI EVER MADE.
I burst out laughing.
“You did not.”
“Marco suggested something longer.”
“What?”
“‘Here lies Nicholas Moretti's common sense.’”
“That would've been better.”
“I'll tell him.”
I looked at the empty grave again.
Then at my husband.
“Nicholas.”
“Yes?”
“I canceled Seattle.”
His expression went completely still.
“You did?”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
“Partly.”
He waited.
“I got another offer.”
“Where?”
“Chicago.”
Relief crossed his face before he could hide it.
I smiled.
“You're terrible at hiding emotions now.”
“I'm out of practice.”
“Good.”
He reached for my hand.
This time I let him take it.
Then he said, “There's something else.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“I don't like that sentence.”
“Probably reasonable.”
“What?”
“Dinner tonight.”
“With whom?”
“My mother.”
I froze.
“Nicholas.”
“She knows I'm alive.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And?”
“She hit me with her handbag.”
I stared at him.
Then laughed so hard I had to grab his arm.
Nicholas looked offended.
“It had metal hardware.”
“You deserved it.”
“She said the same thing.”
For once, the cemetery didn't feel like a place of death.
It felt like the place where the lie finally ended.
But Nicholas still had one thing left to ask me.
May you like
And he waited until the following Sunday to do it.
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