Page 66 of Against All Odds

I’d felt the eyes of the people on me before I heard the murmurs.

“He told her to stay away from his daughter.”

“Well, she should know better than to go against Alexa Vikar.”

“Sleeping with another woman’s husband. Tasteless.”

Screaming,they are divorced, wouldn’t help my cause so I gritted my teeth and pretended I couldn’t hear them.

Aspen was a small town with a big mouth, and I was the favorite punching bag. It sucked. I did a good imitation of doing just fine as I walked the aisles, grabbing what I needed: milk, bread, eggs, vegetables, and meat. My basket felt heavy, even though it wasn’t full. By the time I made it to the checkout counter, my shoulders ached with the heft of more than just the groceries—collective condemnation was a weighty burden.

The cashier, Jillian, a certified gossip monger, scanned my items in silence. I thought I was going to make it out unscathed until she glanced up at me with wide eyes.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked, her tone almost too chipper.

“No.”And, also not interested.

“About Molly and Jack.” She leaned in like she was letting me in on some big secret. “She had the baby this morning. A boy. They’re naming him Caleb.”

My stomach twisted so hard I thought I might throw up right there in the checkout line.Caleb. Of all the names in the world, that was the one they chose?

“Such a cute name, isn’t it?” She maliciously continued.

“Cute,” I agreed. This twit wasn’t going to see me bleed.

I had picked out the name when we’d first started trying for a family. The first time I miscarried, he said, “Don’t worry, Sable, we’ll still have our Caleb one day.” The second time, he didn’t say anything at all.

And now, Molly had Caleb.

At least someone was happy!

“I saw his photograph on Insta, and he’s adorable.”

“I’m sure,” I murmured.Game face on, Sable. Don’t let them see your pain. Don’t let them enjoy that.

She handed me my receipt, and I stuffed it into my bag without looking at it.

“You have a good night, Sable.” Her forced cheerfulness grated against my raw nerves.

But I was stronger than this. “You, too, Jillian,” I pleasantly replied, like I didn’t have a care in the world.

By the time I got to my car, the whispering in the store felt like a distant echo. I climbed into the driver’s seat and sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. My groceries sat in the passenger seat, the bag crinkling faintly as I let out a shaky breath.

I leaned my head back against the headrest, staring at the ceiling of the car. Memories hit me like a freight train—moments I’d tried so hard to bury.

I felt like I was back in high school, walking the halls of Aspen High, trying to be as small as possible so no one would notice me.

“Hey, trailer trash!”

I turned, my cheeks already burning, to see Alexa and Leslie leaning against their lockers. Alexa’s perfect smilewidened as she gestured to my shoes—scuffed, off-brand sneakers that had seen better days.

“Those new?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Or did you find them in the dumpster behind the Woody Creek market?”

Leslie laughed, covering her mouth with one manicured hand.

When I married Jack, I’d thought, there, now I was respectable. But it hadn’t worked that way, had it?

“You’re not really going to wear that to the dinner, are you?” Jack would often ask, his tone so casual it almost sounded like he wasn’t criticizing me.

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