“You saw Daddy what?” I asked, gently pushing Ben’s hair back.
He leaned in closer, like he was sharing a big secret. “I saw Daddy with that lady… he put his face under her dress. I think he was looking for the spiders.”
My blood ran cold.
I turned slowly and scanned the room. My husband was now standing by the bar, laughing with a tall brunette in a black dress—someone I didn’t recognize. She had one hand on his arm, the other clutching a glass of wine. They looked too close. Too comfortable.
My stomach twisted into a knot. Not here, I thought. Not at his father’s funeral.
Ben tugged at my necklace and whispered again, “Is Daddy scared of spiders too? He was hiding under there a long time.”
I forced a smile at my son, kissed his forehead, then stood and walked straight to the bartender.
