“I don’t think so. It takes two to make a marriage work. Three is sort of a crowd.”

“You could make him dump her. I mean, maybe if you changed your hair and bought some new clothes.”

Marina clenched her hands into fists and wished horrible things on Harold all over again. She hated this. Hated it for herself, but even more so, she hated it for Avery. Her daughter shouldn’t have to deal with her parents divorcing before she’d even finished unpacking her dorm room. She definitely shouldn’t have to deal with the fact that the same girl had taken both her high school boyfriends and her father. And to hell with society for pushing the impossibility of women looking awesome and young until they were in the grave. For creating the fantasy that being pretty somehow made your life perfect.

“I’m so sorry, baby, but it doesn’t work that way,” Marina said. “Your father has made it clear that his future doesn’t include me, and I’ve got to be honest, I’m not sure I could forgive him. Not for this. Not with her.”

Another sniff. “I get it. I don’t think I can forgive him, either.”

“He left me, not you,” Marina said, hating herself for the tired comment as soon as it came out of her mouth.

“Whatever. The thing is, he doesn’t get to decide what I do, right?”

“He can’t force you to have a relationship with him, but he’s still your father. And you got a full ride to university so you’re not in danger of losing tuition or your dorm as long as you keep your grades up, but there’s still your car insurance and cell phone and you’ll need spending money. I think things will be a little tight for me for a while. I’ll do what I can, but…”

“This sucks. And I don’t mean because of the money. I don’t care about the money.”

“It does suck,” Marina agreed.

“So where are you? Did you kick him out of the house?”

“The house was his mother’s. I can’t really do that.”

“Are you staying with Aunt Halcyon?”

“For now.”

“What about later?”

“I’ll let you know when I decide.”

If Avery knew Marina was planning to move into the dilapidated fishing cabin, she’d drive straight back to Last Chance just to check her temperature. It was better to leave the logistics of some things for future conversations. After Avery had time to process the bigger aspects of the situation.

“You’re sure about…her?” Avery asked. “I mean, it’s not just someone making something up?”

“I’m sure.” No way was Marina telling Avery she’d actually caught them in the act, although she knew that bit of information would eventually filter down to her. But if there was a God, her daughter would never hear about the whole lingerie fiasco.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Avery said quietly.

“I’m sorry too.”

Marina clutched the sink as the cold water she’d splashed on her face dripped onto her shirt. She patted her face with a washrag and let out a big sigh. Wisps of silver hair clung to her damp forehead. She leaned forward for a closer look and squinted, running her finger over the offending locks. Maybe Avery had been right about a new hairstyle. Or at minimum, some maintenance. It really didn’t do for a stylist to let her own hair go. But the gray seemed to sneak in overnight. One day it wasn’t there. The next day, she was sporting more silver than a vampire hunter.