Page 48 of I Would Die for You

“But I thought we’d spend the evening together,” says Cassie, her voice breaking. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

The nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s enough to summon security and Cassie feels herself being strong-armed away from Ben. “Wh-what are you doing?” she calls out. “Ben! Ben, help me!”

He turns away without a second glance, and Cassie finds herself being lifted up, carried behind the crowd, and ejected onto the concourse like a regurgitated nuisance.

She twists her ankle as she lands, but her wounded pride hurts her more than the physical pain ever could.

“Are you OK?” asks Amelia, running to her and helping her up.

Cassie goes to shrug her off, but the rejection stings so badly that she allows Amelia to take some of the weight, both literallyandfiguratively.

“They’re fucking bastards,” cries Cassie, feeling as if her insides have been hollowed out. “They don’t give a shit about us.”

“It’s going to be OK,” says Amelia, unable to hide the bitter vitriol from her voice. “I’m not going to let them get away with this.”

And as Cassie looks at her twisted features, she doesn’t doubt that she means it.

22

CALIFORNIA, 2011

After last night, I’m not sure how I can possibly stand up in front of five hundred people and pretend that the seals and their welfare are at the forefront of my mind. The potential reward of getting this petition submitted and actioned has paled into insignificance now that the life I’ve tried so hard to create and preserve is hanging in the balance.

“OK, let’s get you mic’d up,” says a smiley woman coming at me, with no concept of what’s going on behind my tired eyes. She rummages around the underside of my blazer, which I’d bought especially for the occasion, hoping it conveyed that I was friendly and approachable to the community while meaning business to local government, whose votes we need to sway with this one final push.

I peek around the side of the stage, my mouth drying out as rows and rows of expectant faces look through the booklet I’d so lovingly prepared, back when my life resembled the one I’ve spent the past twenty years cultivating.

“You’re good to go,” says the smiley woman. “You ready?”

I nod, but I feel I no longer know what I’ve signed up for.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” starts the announcer, her voice booming around San Diego’s revered convention center. “There’s not a soul among us who doesn’t love our city’s seals, for all that they giveus, and the world further afield. We’re the lucky ones because they’ve chosenourbeaches to live, play, swim, and birth pups on. But human intrusion on what should be a safe and protected environment is evermore prevalent, and it’s fallen to one woman to be their voice. And thank goodness for her… Please welcome Nicole Forbes.”

My ears fill with the whooping and hollering, but the noise still doesn’t drown out the doubts and bewilderment that seep into my veins as I try to hold it together. A week ago, I would have been seen as an upstanding member of the community: a devoted mother, a loyal wife, someone who only ever wanted to do good. But now I crumble under the glaring spotlights as I hazard a guess as to how many of these well-meaning expressions are actually asking what kind of a mother loses their child. And I can’t help but wonder to myself,What kind of a wife has lived a life her husband doesn’t know about?

I scan the faces in front of me, paranoid that someone here knows more about me than I want them to. Or perhaps they know even more thanIdo. Do they know that my life is about to implode? Is there someone here who is going to be instrumental in that, and they’re just waiting, biding their time, for the perfect moment to cut the strings and watch me fall?

I stumble through my well-rehearsed speech, hoping that my impassioned plea for just a few more signatures is better received than how it feels to deliver. My voice doesn’t seem loud enough, and my eyes are fervently surfing the audience looking for Brad, my stalwart supporter, who up until twenty-four hours ago wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Though now, that world has turnedupside down, and I honestly don’t know how it will ever be upright again.

When I finish, the floor is opened to questions and I numbly answer them, as if on autopilot, because all I can think about is getting home to salvage the wreckage of my marriage.

“I don’t think you’re being entirely honest about your motivations here,” booms a voice over the microphone.

A collective gasp ripples through the audience before an awkward silence descends.

“Ex-cuse me?” I say, sure that I must have misheard, but also because I need to hear her speak again.

“I just think she should be honest, is all,” reverberates the woman’s British accent around the conference hall.

She’s here.The woman who seems intent on destroying my life is here.But where?

My mouth dries up and there’s a pull at the back of my throat as I frantically search the hundreds of faces, as if in a race against time.

“I’m sorry,” I say, willing myself to focus. “I don’t understand…”

“I had the pleasure of your husband’s company the other evening,” she goes on.

I grip the lectern as my insides twist against each other, fighting to control the swell of nausea.

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