Brian Bradley

A small black leather notebook had slipped between the seats. I wouldn’t have thought anything of it, except that my name was written on the cover in my mother’s handwriting. My hands shook as I opened it. The first page was dated three months ago, just after my engagement announcement. Nathaniel Reed is everything I should have married. Handsome, successful, from the right family. Instead, I settled for William and his middle-class ministry. But maybe it’s not too late. Maybe I deserve something beautiful for once. The notebook slipped from my fingers. I sat in the driver’s seat of my mother’s car, staring at her handwriting as the world tilted sideways. With trembling hands, I picked up the notebook and continued reading. He looks at me the way William used to before the years and the routine wore him down. When Nathaniel compliments my dress or my cooking, I remember what it felt like to be desired. Today, he stayed after Celeste left for work. We talked for hours about literature and travel. He said I was wasted on small-town life. He’s right. I know this is wrong. I know what it would do to Celeste if she found out. But when was the last time anyone chose me? Really chose me—not out of duty or convention, but out of want? Page after page, entry after entry. My mother’s careful handwriting documenting the slow, deliberate seduction of my fiancé. He kissed me today. God help me, I kissed him back. We made love in his apartment while Celeste was at her book club. He said I was more passionate than any woman he’d ever been with. I felt alive again. Nathaniel says after the wedding we’ll find a way to be together. He says marrying Celeste is just what’s expected of him, but his heart belongs to me now. The final entry was dated yesterday. Tomorrow night, the night before the wedding, he’s coming over while William is at his bachelor-party planning meeting. Our last time together before Celeste becomes his wife. After that, we’ll have to be more careful. But we’ve come too far to stop now. I closed the notebook and sat in perfect stillness. Around me, the suburban afternoon continued—sprinklers watering manicured lawns, children riding bicycles, dogs barking at mail carriers. Normal life happening while my entire world crumbled.