She gives a humorless laugh, “Wasn’t it? If I hadn’t pushed him to go skiing, if I hadn’t fought with him after I found him with Cassie…” She trails off staring down into her tea as a tear tracks down her laugh-lined cheeks.

I squeeze her hands, “You couldn’t have known. It was an accident, he was the one being reckless, not you.”

Aubrey’s glassy eyes meet mine. “Maybe. But when I got back after the honeymoon and moved into what was supposed to be our marital home, Cassie came over one day. She was so hateful and confrontational. She demanded to know how such an experienced skier could be reckless enough to hit a tree the way he did. She blamed me for it and started a rumor around town that I was responsible.” She pauses. “Maybe that’s where a bit of the guilt comes from. Of course, the police did an investigation, and I was obviously cleared of any wrongdoing, but it still shattered any piece of me that wanted to continue our friendship. Because of her accusations, she almost got the entire town to turn on me. I’m ashamed to admit it but I ran away for a while—to get my head back on straight.”

Aubrey’s glassy eyes meet mine, “Then there was my Gabe. My person. The only person that ever truly understood me. And now he’s gone. How do I not blame myself for that? He wasn’t feeling well and was coming home to me.”

The weight of Aubrey’s grief hangs heavy between the two of us, I can’t think of anything to say.

How do you tell a new widow that everything will be okay? It’s not like these deaths happened close together, they were at least twenty, maybe thirty, years apart. She’s not cursed.

She sighs, forcing a weak smile, “It’s because of that I’ve decided I’m not going to let anyone else get caught in the crossfires of my bad luck—my curse. No more relationships, no more men in my life. I am going to die alone, I’ve made peace with that.”

I open my mouth to ask more about Gabe, but any illusion of privacy and any other secrets that might’ve been shared—shatter when the door from the kitchen flies open. Theo bursts into the room with a tray of muffins in his hands singing, “This is the worthwhile fight, love is a ruthless game!” The last part goes up an octave as he suddenly notices us sitting at the booth in front of him.

Blinking in surprise, caught between secondhand embarrassment and amusement, I let out a chuckle. Red faced he starts putting the muffins in the display.

Aubrey raises an unimpressed eyebrow, “Really, Teddy?” she asks dryly. “You’re a grown man.”