Better Left Unsaid

The man kneeling in the bus aisle looked up at Celia and said, “Would you mind holding that door? I’m about to do something badly.” She had expected Imogen. She had expected, at most, to shake hands with a few volunteers and pretend she was a person who had slept. Instead there was a cardboard …

“I’m leaving you, Celia, but Mom can’t know until after Sunday—you’ll need to act like we’re still engaged at her retirement lunch.” Quentin put his guest list beside the pear she was peeling for his mother. Celia’s ring was sticky with juice. Upstairs, a positive pregnancy test waited in her overnight bag. She had planned …