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David would probably love it. He’d never have to see her again. He’d get everything. All he’d need was a new wife. A wife to give him the family he’d always wanted—something he was only too happy to remind her she’d failed to give him no matter how hard she’d tried.
She stepped up onto the sidewalk and made her way toward the house. Before she could go inside she needed to clean herself up. She walked around the side of the house and washed up with the hose.
When she entered the kitchen, David threw a manila envelope at her.
“I’ve had the divorce papers written up. All you have to do is sign them. Do it now.”
She stared at the envelope that lay on the counter just where his note had been only hours before. She didn’t dare touch the paper out of fear that, if she did, it would make everything real.
“David...no...”
“Just sign the papers. You have to be as unhappy as I am.”
For the first time in memory, she agreed with him. She wasn’t happy. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had been happy with him. But that was what marriage was, right? It had ups and downs, and the job of both people was to make it work. Wasn’t it?
“Things will get better. We just need to work together. Maybe you could take some time off. I don’t remember when we spent real time together.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I was avoiding you? We should’ve put a stop to this relationship a long time ago, but I know you’re nothing without me. It was an act of sheer kindness that I’ve allowed you to be my wife this long.”
Something inside her broke.
“You’ve allowed me to be your wife? Hasn’t it occurred to you all I’ve given up to be with you? I gave up my education for you. I gave up my hopes of a job.”
“A job,” he said with a smirk. “That would take dedication.”
“Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean that I’m not dedicated—if I love something, I give it everything... Even if my love turns out to be misplaced.” She looked at him and tried to control the hatred that welled within her.
“If you loved me so much, maybe you should have tried a little harder.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a pen and laid it on the envelope. “Just sign the paperwork. It’s over.”
She stared at the envelope but didn’t move. “We made a promise to each other. You told me you never wanted to get a divorce. That marriage meant something to you.”
“Marriage does mean something to me, Heather. It means fidelity, trust, honesty. You haven’t given me any of those things.”
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the ringing of his words. “Why do you always accuse me of something I haven’t done? I’ve never given you reason to think—” She paused as a terrible thought came to mind. “Are you cheating on me, David? Is that what all this is about? Are you accusing me out of your own guilt? Are you trying to make yourself feel better about something you’ve done?”
“How dare you accuse me. I spend my days saving people’s lives. I’m a damn hero.” He ripped open the envelope and pushed the papers in front of her. “Sign them.”
Her hands shook. It wasn’t that she hadn’t imagined the possibility of him asking for a divorce; she had just never thought it would be today.
There was no coming back from this—not right now. He was too angry. There was only one thing to do that could make it any better—she had to hold him off.
“I’ll have a lawyer take a look.”
“Don’t you trust me, Heather?”
“If you had asked me two hours ago, I would’ve said yes. But now, it would be stupid if I did.”
She picked up the papers and her car keys and walked out.
Chapter Six (#ulink_f6acd6cf-d7a0-5930-aa89-c3c2b9e43afc)
After Heather’s forced disappearance, Kevin hadn’t been interested in the Millers’ party and he’d found an excuse to leave. He shut his daughter’s door. Surprisingly Lindsay had dropped into her bed without protest, just as she’d easily agreed with him to leave the party.
Colter sat behind his computer in his bedroom as Kevin made his way down the hall.
“Where were you, Colter?”
His son shrugged as he faced his screen. “I dunno.”
“Try it again, bud. Where did you go after baseball practice?”
“Baseball practice ran long.” He didn’t turn around. “When I made it to the Millers’, the party was over.”
“You mind looking at me? I’m trying to talk to you.”
His son shifted a few degrees in his seat. “What? I’m talking to you.”
Kevin had never been much of a disciplinarian—that had always been more Allison’s job. God, he wished she was here.
Once again he was reminded how badly he wanted a woman in their lives, someone he could share the ups and downs with, someone he could hold in his arms at night—someone like Heather.
“Is Heather going to come to my game?” Colter asked, as if he could somehow sense what was on Kevin’s mind.
“I don’t know. If you’d made it to the party, you could’ve asked her yourself. Where were you?”
“God, don’t you get tired of asking the same questions? I told you... Baseball practice ran late. When I got to the party it was shut down. I didn’t stick around.”
“You don’t expect me to believe that baseball practice lasted that long, do you?” Kevin leaned against Colter’s door frame, half in and half out of the bedroom, just far enough in to let him know that he had his full attention, but far enough out that it wasn’t a confrontation.
Then again, everything with Colter these days was a confrontation.
“Were you with a girl?”
Colter tapped at his keyboard. “No.”
He was getting nowhere. “I would appreciate it if you would do as I ask. It’s important that I can count on you, or else this free-for-all is going to come to a screeching halt. No more baseball. No more girls. No more friends.”
His son spun around and cursed.
He twitched at the sound of his son’s language. That was a new one.
“If you want to talk and act like a big man, that’s fine, bud. But you need to know you’re causing problems. I’m trying to do my best here. I’m sorry I can’t be everywhere, but you aren’t making this any easier. I need to trust you, okay?”
Colter’s expression remained blank. He would make one hell of a poker player.
“Fine.”
“Will you let me know when baseball practice runs late again? Please?”
“Fine.”
“I love you, kid, but this attitude needs to come to an end.” Kevin pushed off the door frame. “Get to bed. You have school in the morning.”
Colter turned back around in his chair to face his computer. “Got it.”
Kevin closed the door and walked into the living room.
Every day since Allison had died, some more of Colter seemed to fade. No matter how hard Kevin had tried, no matter how many parenting books he had read, he had failed at helping his son—just like he’d failed to save Allison. He couldn’t help but feel as though he was on the brink of losing someone else he loved.
There was a knock at the door and he went to answer it, wondering who was calling on him now.
Heather stood on the top step. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were red as if she’d been crying, her deep V-neck shirt was wet and soiled.
“What happened?” He motioned for her to come inside.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know where to go. Brittany wasn’t answering.”
“Come on in.” He stepped aside. He would have asked her what was wrong, but after what he had seen at the barbecue there was no point.
She stumbled to the couch and sat with her feet curled beneath her. “Thank you.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No. I just put the kids to bed.” He pointed at her shirt. “You want something clean to wear?”
She looked down and her mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God... Those damn margaritas.”
“Be right back.” He went to his bedroom and came back with a shirt. “Here, you can have this.” He handed it to her and turned his back as she slipped off her V-neck. In the mirror by the door, he caught a glimpse of her naked breasts. He stiffened as he looked away. No matter how much he wanted to look at her, to take those puckered pink nipples into his mouth and make them his, she belonged to someone else.
“I’m done,” she said. “Thanks for the shirt.”
He turned but didn’t know where to go, so he just stood there. “You’re welcome.”
Normally around women he was cool and collected. Yet with Heather, it was different. She was different. And no matter how badly he tried to break into work mode, treating her as though she was just another victim, he couldn’t. He didn’t feel right taking her by the hand and telling her it would all be okay. If he touched her, he might not be able to let her go.
“You want something to drink?” He moved toward the kitchen.
She stared into space. “David wants a divorce. He has the papers ready. I don’t know what to do.”
“What?” Kevin stopped and turned to her.
“Don’t make me say it again. It doesn’t feel real. None of this feels real.”
“I get it.” He felt like a moron, but he couldn’t think of the right thing to say.
In a way, he’d been in her shoes when he had found out about Allison’s death. A part of him had died in that moment. No matter how many times people said “I’m sorry,” nothing could staunch the pain.
“I never thought this day would come. I mean...we’ve been unhappy. I thought maybe, but...I thought we’d make it through this. I should have seen this coming.”
“When you love someone, sometimes you don’t see what’s staring back at you.”
“What do you mean?”
He thought back to David hitting on Brittany at the barbecue. If Heather hadn’t seen it, he was the last person who should tell her.
“Nothing. I just mean—”
“You think he doesn’t love me?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said, mentally trying to backpedal.
“It’s okay. I know he doesn’t. It’s been a long time since...well, since I think he felt something other than contempt toward me. A divorce seems like the only answer.”
“Is that what you want—a divorce?” The question came from a place inside him where he begged that she would say yes.
She didn’t answer. Rather, she looked broken, as though she was a pane of glass that had been waiting for the strike of a hammer, and now that the blow had been struck, she’d come to him to help find the pieces.
He saved lives, but he’d never been good at rebuilding them—not even when the life was his own. He tried hard, but despite his efforts, Colter was a mess and he didn’t spend nearly enough time with Lindsay. Everything he did was a struggle. Every choice was wrong or surrounded by guilt. He could never give Heather what she needed.
She wiped the tears from her eyes as she stood up and moved to him, her hips swaying with purpose.
What was she doing? She’d never looked at him like that before, with such intensity. If anything, she’d been overly insistent that they were friends...good friends, but that had been all. But that look, that light in her dark eyes, said there was something more—something he’d felt since the first moment he’d met her.
He must have been reading her wrong. He stepped back until he bumped into the table beside the door. “Heather...”
She put her finger on his lips, quieting him. Rising to her tiptoes, she swept her tear-dampened lips over the skin of his neck. Sparks of electricity shot down his body and reawakened a part of him that he had written off.
“What’re you doing?” he tried to say, but it came out barely above a whisper thanks to the soft pressure of her finger against his lips.
She slipped his earlobe into her mouth and sucked.
Oh, God... He wanted this. He wanted her.
He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to his bed. He wanted to wake up covered in her scent, to lick her flavor off his lips. Her kiss moved lower. Her tongue traced the neckline of his shirt. Her hands moved up his chest.
“Heather...” he moaned. “I want you...”
Before he could say another word, her lips met his. She tasted sweet, like warm berries right off the vine. How could a woman taste so good?
He wrapped his arms around her as he relished their kiss. He could do this forever...hold her forever...be with her forever.
The scent of sweetened alcohol wafted from her. Kevin pulled back. Those lips, those pink, full lips weren’t berry flavored—they tasted of margarita.
If she had been sober and come to him willingly and openly, it would have been hard for him to say no, but as it was, with her judgment skewed and muted by booze, there was only one choice.
“Heather...” He unwrapped his arms from around her body. “We can’t do this. You can sleep here. You can have my bed. But tonight... This can’t happen.”
Chapter Seven (#ulink_903869f8-e3cf-5b49-971d-bd0836a0cad5)
Heather rolled over in bed. Where her clock should have been was a glass of water and two red capsules she assumed were ibuprofen. The sides of the glass were beaded with sweat, reminding her of the letter that David had left behind.
