Page 55 of Entangled

Cara shot Celeste a look from across the way. “I’m not sure if you mean that to be a good or bad thing.”

“Well, it’s both. I understand the predicament my son found himself in, and not just with you. Between his grandfather, all the rules and expectations they shoveled onto him over the years, and then his wife …”

“I’m not sure I want to know anything about her,” Cara said, trying not to sound trite.

Celeste shrugged, as if to say, do what you will. “Perhaps you should learn about Elena, or at least, learn why she is where she is with my son. I wish more people had looked beyond the surface when they married years ago, or for that matter, paid attention to it all. No one thought to, and it’s no wonder he’s found himself—” She looked over to Cara, then said, “It’s no wonder he’s found himself in this situation. A man or woman can only be so unhappy in every aspect of their life, before they eventually start looking for something—or someone—to fill that void.”

Cara turned the electric kettle on. “I never thought about it in that way.”

“You don’t know her. Elena, I mean,” Celeste said, her assumption spot on. “But that is not my place to say, either.”

“Is it your place to be here?”

The older woman didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Here I am, Cara.” Celeste smiled wider. “Now, tell me about my first grandbaby.”

Cara stared at the tubs of ice cream in the store’s freezer, trying to decide which flavor—or rather, favors—she wanted to buy. Shrugging, she pulled several mini tubs out and dropped them into her cart. If she couldn’t decide on just one flavor, then she would try them all.

Winning, Cara thought.

Pregnancy was no fucking joke.

Neither were the late-night cravings.

“Is that one any good, do you know?”

The question came from Cara’s left. She had been so involved in her task of getting the last, but most important, thing on her grocery list, she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings.

Cara found the woman who the voice belonged to, and damn near tripped over her own two feet. Elena Guzzi.

Elena stood only an inch taller than Cara, but that was probably because of the sky-high heels the woman had on her feet. She certainly didn’t look dressed to be grocery shopping in a black knee-high, pencil skirt dress with a beige trench coat overtop. Her makeup was flawless—impeccable, with nothing over or under done. Even her blonde hair laid straight down her back, and not one stray hair was out of place.

She was beautiful.

Perfect, even.

Yet, cold in her eyes.

Cara recognized her instantly, but Elena looked at her as though she didn’t have the first clue in the world who she was.

“I-I’m sorry?” Cara managed to ask, finally coming out of her shock.

Elena leaned over Cara’s cart, balancing her basket with nothing but wine inside, on her hip. “That one right there—the peanut butter one. Is it any good?”

“That one is, but I don’t know about the rest.”

“Oh, good. I like peanut butter.” Elena moved around Cara’s cart, seemingly unaware that she was being watched like a bug under a microscope. “Although I don’t think I have the same excuse as you do to be snacking on these, do I?”

“Pardon?”

Elena pointed at Cara’s stomach peeking out beneath her opened jacket. “How far along, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Oh, God.

Cara did not want to be having this conversation with her lover’s wife, especially considering the woman didn’t seem to know who in the hell she was. Didn’t that make it even more wrong on some level?