It might be Jacqui. Scared, damaged, and surely feeling guilty about all the years of silence. It might take a while for her to get the courage to call again.
“I hope that happens, Cassie. Living with that uncertainty for so long is a burden you don’t deserve to be carrying.”
Ryan checked his watch.
“We’d better be getting back. We have our boy to think about now.”
She glanced at him sharply, wondering if he realized what he’d said and how he’d used the word “our,” but he didn’t seem to notice, or regret, the words that he had used.
The rain was easing off as they headed home, although the wind was still strong. After two beers, Cassie was glad of the brisk, sobering walk. She hadn’t realized until she had gotten up how much the alcohol had affected her and she was worried she would become over-emotional when Ryan broke the news to his son.
When Dylan and Madison arrived back, they burst into the house, with Madison shrieking and laughing from the short run to the front door.
“Hello, Dad, hello, Cassie. Dress rehearsal went really well. My costume is awesome! I get to wear this really sparkly, pretty dress because I’m rich and I’m spoiled.”
“Glad to hear it, lovely. Come into the kitchen now. Do you two want a cup of tea?”
“No, thanks.”
Looking curious, Madison came into the kitchen, with Dylan close behind.
Cassie took a deep breath as she saw Ryan’s serious face. She hoped she wouldn’t start crying.
“Dylan, I’m afraid I have some bad news about Benjamin Bunny.”
Cassie heard the sharp intake of Madison’s breath. Glancing at the children, she saw Madison looked stricken. Dylan, however, was expressionless.
“What happened, Dad?” he asked.
“When Cassie cleaned the cage, she noticed that the little guy wasn’t looking well.”
Now Cassie’s head jerked around and she stared at Ryan, wide-eyed. This wasn’t what had happened. Where was he going with this?
“We immediately rushed him to the vet, and they confirmed that he was an older animal who had started to experience heart failure. They said that if this continued Benjamin would undoubtedly suffer, and feel progressively worse for the remainder of his life, and that the condition was irreversible and terminal.”
Cassie couldn’t breathe as she listened.
“They advised putting Benjy to sleep to prevent any further suffering. Cassie and I held him and he didn’t know a thing about it; he was calm and comfortable, and with the painkillers they gave him, he was even feeling well enough to take a small bite of carrot before he went to sleep.”
Madison burst into tears, and Dylan nodded somberly. His face was still empty of emotion. Needing comfort herself, Cassie hugged Madison, rubbing her shoulders, and dug in her pocket for the wad of Kleenex she’d put there in preparation.
She felt completely thrown by this alternative version. She had no idea why Ryan had said what he did. He hadn’t discussed this with her first, or even hinted he would say anything other than the truth.
Surely he should have asked Dylan if he’d noticed anything wrong, or if there had been any change in the rabbit’s food, or if he’d been accidentally injured, or any of the myriad other things that could have happened?
Well, it was too late now, and she couldn’t step in. She was about to stammer out some comforting words herself, to scrape something coherent together, when Ryan took her voice away all over again.
“Here are his ashes,” he said, and produced a glass jar filled with ash.
It could only have come from the fireplace. Cassie had noticed he’d cleaned it out after they had arrived back from the pub. He’d buried Benjamin—well, she guessed that much was true. He certainly hadn’t burned the rabbit and a house fire wasn’t hot enough to cremate a bunny in any case; it would just have roasted him.
Nausea flooded her at that thought, and she swallowed hard.
“I thought we could all have a cup of tea now and talk about Benjamin, remember him for the amazing bunny he was. And then when the rain has stopped, we can go and scatter his ashes into the sea.”
Madison was still shuddering with sobs. “That’s so sad. But it sounds good, Dad.”
Dylan’s face was like stone.
Cassie suddenly felt a stab of horror. What if the rabbit’s death had affected her own memory and she was the one who had misremembered everything? Gaps in her memory had occurred before, admittedly when she’d been under stress, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t recur at other times. Those gaps had been terrifying. Days later, she’d recalled incidents that her mind had completely blanked out at the time—and her overactive subconscious had presented alternative versions in the form of nightmares, so that after a while, she hadn’t known what was true and what not.
It was horrific to think that Ryan might have said, “Let’s take the little guy to the vet—he could just be in a deep coma,” and she had heard, “I’ll bury him in the garden.”
Cassie resolved that she would ask Ryan that night, while they were having their customary glass of wine that had turned into a nightly ritual.
She wanted to know for sure if she was remembering this right, or if the nightmares and false memories were starting up again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As soon as the rain cleared, Cassie headed out to the bluff with the family.
Dylan led the way carrying the jar of ashes, Ryan followed close behind him, and Cassie walked at the back, holding Madison’s gloved hand tightly in her own. She was feeling tearful again, and knew it would take all her self-control not to break down.
“You were a good bunny, Benjamin,” Dylan said solemnly.
Cassie pressed her lips together to prevent sobs erupting. This was Dylan’s chance to grieve; it was not for her to grab attention away from him. Hopefully she could blame the cold wind for the tears in her eyes.
“You were the best,”
