Page 19 of Cain

Not one of the princesses.

Georgie.

CHAPTER SIX

Georgie

Perry hated holidays.

Sure, he forced me to decorate the house—to his preferences, not mine—but it was all for show. He didn’t want cookies baked or gifts exchanged at Christmas.

“What is the point?”

And when it came to Halloween, he insisted we turn off the lights and pretend not to be home. He certainly didn’t believe in carving pumpkins. “What, so they can rot?” Or going to an autumnal-themed garden center to pick out your own pumpkins, stuff scarecrows, do crafts, or wander through a corn maze or haunted house or woods.

Since Perry controlled the purse strings, I didn’t get to do any of those things while we were married either.

Now that I was free to use my own hard-earned money however I wanted, I set a little of it aside to go to The Hollows.

This was a place I’d had fond memories of as a kid, but the original place had shut down a long time ago. I wanted to experience it for the nostalgia.

It was opened up under new owners who had leaned heavily into the nostalgia we’d known back in the day but also expanded on it.

There’d never been snack and drink carts in the past. And I promised myself that I’d get an apple cider donut and a seasonal coffee on my way out. No matter how overpriced it might be.

I’d taken on some food delivery jobs the past few days just to be able to treat myself a little bit. Because I was going to do all the Halloween things I’d missed for years.

Then I was going to go hard for Thanksgiving as well. Perry had insisted we go out to eat on Thanksgiving all through our marriage. And never even to places serving traditional Thanksgiving meals. I was dying for stuffing and rolls and green bean casserole.

How was I going to manage that without an oven? I had no idea. But I was going to make it happen.

I would have invited Janet and Jill. But they had some close family nearby and were likely going to be with them.

But it didn’t have to be sad to do it alone.

I could learn to enjoy being alone.

If nothing else, alone was leaps and bounds better than being under someone else’s thumb.

Going to The Hollows was my attempt to prove to myself that fun could be had on my own, that I didn’t need someone else at my side to have a good time.

The only problem?

I was the only one alone.

Sweet couples walked hand-in-hand. Boyfriends comforted their scared girlfriends after the haunted house. Groups of girls walked around, giggling, happy. Families roamed up and down the pumpkin fields. Moms helped their kids at the craft tables.

There was a distinct, undeniable ache opened up beneath my ribs.

If I’d had my way, I would have several sweet children by now. I was sure that it was coming in the months after my wedding. But a year passed. Then two. Perry kept saying it would happen when it was meant to.

Only for me to find out, through a casual conversation with one of his friends at an event, that Perry had a vasectomy years before.

There would be no babies for me.

The dream of being a mother died the moment I let him slip that ring on my finger.

I’d grieved that loss for years.