“I hate him,” she said, “I hate him! And I’ll never be free until he really is buried in a hole six feet deep.”
The words were so terrible, so unlike anything she’d ever permitted herself to think, that she began to tremble. Cassie flew toward her and gathered her into her arms.
“Oh, honey,” she crooned, “oh, Dawn…”
“I shouldn’t have said it. I know that. It’s wrong, to want someone dead, but—”
“It’s okay.”
“It isn’t. It’s not okay. That’s an awful thing, to wish somebody—”
Cassie led Dawn to a chair. “Sit down, honey. I’ll get you something to drink.”
“He did that, this afternoon,” Dawn said unsteadily. “The man. He—he sat me down on the curb, and he gave me something to drink.”
“That’s what I said before.” Cassie filled a glass with water and handed it to her. “The guy’s an absolute knight in shining armor.”
“It could be tin,” Dawn said, and made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. “But I admit, he was—he was very kind.”
“Take a drink.”
Dawn sipped at the water, then handed back the glass. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Cassie paused. “So, what’s his name?”
“Harman.”
Cassie smiled. “Harman, huh? That’s a funny name for a knight.”
“A name for a…” Dawn looked up. “No. Harman is—was—my husband.” She licked her lips. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Why? Do you think I’m going to take out an ad in tomorrow’s paper?” Cassie held up her hands and stretched out an imaginary banner headline. “News flash! Dawn Carter’s Ex Is Named Harman!”
Dawn didn’t smile. “It’s just better if you don’t know anything about him, that’s all. And I told you, he’s not my ex.”
“Yeah, well, he is. My ex was my ex long before I walked out on him.”
“You said he walked out on you.”
Cassie shrugged. “Same thing,” she said, sitting down beside Dawn and taking her hand. “The point is, as soon as you start thinking that the marriage is over, it’s over. Harman is definitely history.”
“I wish.”
“I know.” Cassie hesitated. “Do you want to tell me more? Like, what he did to make you so gun-shy?”
“I’m not…” Dawn sighed. There was no sense in lying and less sense talking about it. “No.”
“Well, that’s straightforward.”
“Cass.” Dawn squeezed her friend’s hand. “Honestly, there’s no point in discussing it.”
“There is, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine.” Cassie grinned at Dawn’s raised eyebrows. “Yup, it’s another Oprah-ism. Well, I probably heard it on Oprah, anyway. You talk about a bad thing, you purge it from your system.”
Dawn tugged her hand free and got to her feet. “Sorry, Dr. Freud, but that isn’t always the way it goes.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s talk about something else.”
Dawn filled the coffeepot. Cassie swung her foot and hummed. “So,” she said brightly, into the deepening silence, “did you lose those five pounds on that new diet we both started last week?”