The Good Widow

by Liz Fenton

It’s ridiculous how your life doesn’t need your permission to turn upside down. You think you have it under control. That you’re good at handling the colossal disappointments:

As a lover of processed foods—anything with that orange stuff they’re trying to ban—I find eating like a caveman feels as unachievable as making the Olympic track team.

But now I realize that lies, even small, well-meaning ones, just pile up until they eventually topple over.

Her accent always grew stronger when she was angry.

Isabella treated holiday decor like it was an Olympic sport. She turned her home into a display every holiday, from Halloween to Thanksgiving to Easter, and even for the Fourth of July. Depending on the festivity, her house would be adorned with ghosts or scarecrows, bunnies or American flags. There would be matching dish towels next to the sink, festive serving dishes on the table, and handmade decorations she copied from Pinterest.

This is something I haven’t mentioned to Nick, because saying it out loud will cheapen that experience for me.

We didn’t speak for two days. I think about those arguments now—the ones where we’d be in a battle of wills, not talking, daring the other to be the first to give in—and realize we’ll never have one again.

Beth’s words never spill menace. It may not be what you want to hear, but she always speaks the truth.

Even in an affair, there’s a honeymoon period, Dylan thought. And then it expires, just like in a regular relationship.

And now Dylan realized one very important thing about James that was not going to change: he was going to do what he wanted, when he wanted, whether she agreed with him or not.

But I’d naively thought we kept the betrayals inside the walls of our own house. That our messy relationship was the canvas of our life together.

there wasn’t anything to talk about. Even though there were so many things to talk about.

Even if you stay on the sidewalks and pay your bills on time and use hand sanitizer, bad things still happen. Yes, maybe you can cut your odds by playing it safe. By attempting to predict each and every possible pitfall. But your fate will still find you, no matter how much you hide from it.