“I didn’t want you to know,” I manage to whisper. “How could I burden you with that on top of everything? And it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do, Kevin. I just got to the point where I couldn’t cope. Couldn’t see another way.”
“I get that now. Still. I wish . . .” He sighs and swallows the words. “I miss her too. Shelby.” His voice trembles and he blinks back tears. “Some days it still hurts so bad I don’t know what to do with it.” His voice catches and he clears his throat. “John says it’s to be expected, even after so long. That it won’t ever fully go away. But we will heal. If we work at it. I think that’s what I didn’t understand, you know? I thought not talking would be better. That one day we’d wake up and everything would somehow magically be okay.”
My chest shudders as I process his words. I have yet to figure out how to be strong about this. Slowly I push off the couch and move to stand in front of the fire. “Is that why you found Alison so appealing? Because she didn’t remind you of the past? Didn’t remind you of Shelby? Or was it just about the sex?” I swivel to face him and catch the shock and shame in his eyes.
Kevin puts both feet on the ground and leans over his knees, breathing deeply. Then he looks up and meets my gaze. “I was somebody else when I was with her. Yes, I used her to escape what was going on here at home. What was going on with us. And maybe in a way I was punishing myself.”
I snort. I probably shouldn’t have, but it’s so ludicrous, really. “Having sex with a beautiful younger woman, yeah, that’s punishment all right.”
“You don’t know, Savannah,” he says hoarsely. “You don’t know what it was like, coming home to you. Having to look at you, knowing what I’d done. Knowing how deeply I’d hurt you. Betrayed you. How far I’d fled from everything I ever believed in . . . the guilt I felt. When you found out what was going on, I was actually relieved. But it didn’t help. I thought leaving was the right thing, for me, for you. Part of me even thought it would be easy. I convinced myself I could start over. But walking away was the hardest thing I ever did. The stupidest. And for me, it only made things worse.”
In a way, I do understand. Because when I look at Brock sometimes, even knowing he could be gone in a month, a year, I do think about leaving Kevin, leaving this life we’ve built, as imperfect and dysfunctional as it is, signing on the dotted line and just being done with it. But the thought, the reality of that final decision, twists my stomach, makes it so I have to catch my breath, and I can’t believe I’m actually considering it.
“Did you love her?” I thread my fingers through my hair and recoil at the anguish in my voice. It’s the last thing I ever intended to ask him, ever wanted to know. But now I need to hear the answer.
“No.” One word. Final. Authoritative.
And somehow strangely freeing.
Kevin sniffs, pushes to his feet, and positions himself a foot away from me. His eyes pin me in an intense gaze that I cannot escape. “No.” He shakes his head and folds his arms. “She told me I’d never once said those words to her, and then she said I never would, because the only woman I could ever love was you. And she was right. You will always be the only one for me, Savannah.”
Oh, how many times I longed to hear those words. But now they fall flat and I struggle to accept the sincerity in them. “I wish that was enough,” I say, my voice hoarse. “You walked away, Kevin. You broke our vows. You gave yourself to someone else. Tell me how I’m supposed to live with that. How do I live with you again, knowing . . .” I put a fist to my mouth. “What if I’d had the affair? What if I came home one night and told you I’d been sleeping with another man? What if I’d slept with Brock?”
He stares in stunned silence. “I don’t know.” Lifts his hands and lets them fall. “Is that what you want? Do you want to be with Brock? Do you . . . love him?” Fear widens his eyes as reality steals home. We’re at an impasse. And I don’t know what to say next.
Had he asked me this a few weeks ago, I might have hesitated. But now I know for sure. It’s something I’ve realized over the past few days, watching Kevin move around the house, coming home with groceries unasked, offering to make dinner even after working a full day or insisting on doing the dishes so I can rest.
I watch the way he interacts with the kids—the easy way he’s always had with them is slowly returning and the walls of distrust and hurt seem to be crumbling before my eyes. I know, even now, despite the pain, the rejection, and his final abandonment, that I will never love anyone like I love Kevin. Not even Brock Chandler.
“I’m not in love with Brock.”
“You’re not?” He sounds a little unsure, so I shake my head. And then, because the way he’s looking at me says more than he probably wants to, I manage a smile.
“No. I care about him. We’ve grown close, I won’t deny that, but I guess I must be a bit of a masochist, Kev, because in spite of everything, apparently I still love my husband.”
His smile almost makes it to the edge of his mouth. “Is Brock in love with you?”
“Does it matter?”
He lets out his breath in a low exhale and runs a hand over his face. “Savannah. Do you think . . . do you think you might give me, us, another chance?” He moves closer and takes both my hands in his. “Do you think you can forgive me?”
It sounds so easy in theory. All I have to do is say yes. “Is that what you want, Kevin? For me to say I forgive you? To say we can start over? Like it never happened?”
“No. Not like it never happened. It did, and we both have to deal with that in our own way. But yes, Savannah, I am asking for your forgiveness. Not just the words. God knows I don’t deserve it, and I don’t have the right to ask for it, and whichever way this goes . . . I need you to know that I am truly, truly sorry. I don’t know that I can ever forgive myself. So I don’t blame you if you don’t think you can take me back. But I don’t think either of us can ever move on if you can’t forgive me.”
“I know.” Weariness cloaks me. I’m so tired of fighting this. Tired of the bitterness, the stale anger that still sits within me. “I wish it were easier. I know I should forgive, but . . . right now . . .”
“You can’t.” He lets me go, like he expected as much. “So what now? Do you want to proceed with the divorce? Do you want to end our marriage, Savannah?”
“No.” A small cry gets stuck in my throat. “Did you not hear me? I love you! I do, but I hate what you did. Some days I still hate you for it. I just need some more time, Kev. I’m not saying no. I’m saying not now. Not yet.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose and shrugs, dejected. “Okay. I guess I can accept that.”
My cell phone buzzes in the pocket of my jeans and I jump. The stillness of the room shatters and Kevin steps back, away from me. I pull out my phone and study the number. Time slows as dread slithers through me. “It’s Clarice. I should take this.”
“Yeah. You do that.” He nods, shoots me a smile singed with sorrow, gives a shrug, and walks out, shutting the door behind him.
CHAPTER 26
“Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.”
—JANE AUSTEN
Some days Zoe found the idea of quitting school and running off to Africa totally appealing. Today was one of those days.
She so did not want to go back to school tomorrow.
A knock on her door made Zoe look up from her packing. “Enter at your own risk.”
Mom poked her head in and grinned. “This doesn’t look so bad.”
“Well, I’ve only been home a few days. Haven’t had enough time to mess it up.” The state of Zoe’s bedroom had always been a source of lively debate. Mom said that was the one good thing about Zoe being in college—she could actually see the rug in here.
Zoe zipped up her bag and heaved it off the bed. “I’m glad you guys talked me into waiting until tomorrow. It’s supposed to snow tonight.” She had planned to drive back this afternoon, but it got late and they decided
with the unpredictable weather, it’d be better to drive in daylight. Mom and Dad were taking Adam back to school tomorrow, so they could all leave at the same time.
The memory of Adam in that hospital bed still kept her up nights. Other than losing Shelby, this had been one of the hardest things she’d gone through. She made a point of coming home as often as she could. She needed Adam to know she’d be there for him, and she needed to get past the guilt of not doing more when he’d called her that morning.
Zoe couldn’t bear to think what might have happened if they’d lost him. Couldn’t go there.
“I’m so thankful you’ve been able to be around on the weekends, Zo.” Mom read her mind as usual. Zoe grinned as Mom sat on the edge of the bed.
“Me too.” Zoe hated the weariness on her mother’s face. She looked so tired since coming back from the Berkshires. Dad wore that same beaten expression. Since bringing Adam home from the hospital, it was like they were all tiptoeing around each other, nobody knowing what to say.
“So, you ready to go back tomorrow?” Mom ran a hand over the wrinkles on the patchwork quilt she’d found at some quaint store years ago. Zoe rolled her eyes and they shared a smile. A glimmer of happiness lit Mom’s face, but it was gone too quickly.
When Zoe arrived home on Thursday night, she’d shrieked in delight at her mother’s new stylish shoulder-length bob. She’d lost some weight over the last few months and looked more like the pretty young mom Zoe remembered from her youth. If it weren’t for the shadows beneath her eyes . . .
“Zo . . . I wanted to ask you about Tim.” And there it was.
Zoe sighed. She’d known it would come up eventually. She sat on the other side of the bed and met Mom’s gaze. “We broke up.”
“When?” Mom didn’t look surprised. Zoe figured they’d known or at least assumed but hadn’t wanted to ask. Not with everything going on. And that was fine by her because she hadn’t wanted to talk about it.
Early-evening light flickered through the curtains. Everything in the room was exactly how she left it the summer she went off to Princeton. At some point she supposed they’d begin to clear things out, put everything into boxes and pack up her life. That day might come sooner than expected if Mom and Dad went through with the divorce.
Zoe pushed her hair behind her ears. “About a month ago.” She got off the bed and paced her spacious bedroom. She loved this room with its dormer windows and view of the garden and the fields beyond. Some days she missed being home with an aching loneliness. Other days, when she’d been home too long, she couldn’t wait to get back to school. Tonight she wasn’t sure how she felt. “I saw him with a girl and I overreacted. After that, I realized I didn’t really trust him. And I didn’t know what to do with that. Neither did he.”
“Oh, Zo.” Mom’s sigh wound around the room and sadness settled in her eyes.
Zoe’s tears warmed her cheeks. “He said it was nothing, that they were in a group, lab partners. Mom, the whole thing was so ridiculous . . . but all I could think was . . .” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and hesitated. Voicing her thoughts might be like throwing gasoline on an already burning fire.
“You thought he would turn out like your father.” Mom’s words were quiet, heavy with sorrow that made Zoe cry harder. She dropped to the bed again and Mom moved to sit beside her and took her in her arms.
“He said that. ‘I’m not your father, Zo . . .’ Yelled it at me, like I just didn’t get it. And maybe I didn’t. Maybe I wanted us to break up because somehow, deep down, I know I’m only going to get hurt anyway.”
“Zo. Don’t do that.” Mom smoothed Zoe’s hair and kissed her forehead. “You can’t spend your life being afraid that every man you meet will let you down. At some point you have to learn to trust again.”
“But he . . .” Words jammed together in her throat. “Mom, Daddy cheated on you. He broke your marriage vows. Will you ever get over that? Will you ever be able to trust him again? I don’t want to go through that with anyone. I’d rather stay single the rest of my life.”
“Oh, sweetie. You won’t always feel this way.” Mom gave a half smile, but her eyes still held the pain of what they’d been through. “People will let you down. Even the ones who aren’t supposed to.”
“And what do you do with that?” Zoe whispered.
“You love them anyway. And you pray that at some point you find the grace to forgive.” Mom sat back and took a breath. “I’ve learned something these past few months. We were made for relationships. You know that? Marriages and families are what hold us together, give life real meaning. And even when it all goes wrong or things happen that we just don’t know how to deal with, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try again. Even when it’s hard and it still hurts.”
Zoe sniffed back more tears. “Dad ruined everything. Some days I still hate him for that.”
“But things weren’t perfect, Zo. Things weren’t good between us.” Mom’s voice got quiet, trembled a little. “Hadn’t been for a long time. I had a lot of issues I needed to deal with. You know that. Don’t you?”
The past skittered across the room, and for a moment Zoe almost heard her sister’s laughter. She wished she could remember more about Shelby, but she did remember her laugh. Memories pulled her back to that summer four years after Shelby died, the summer she came home from camp and Mom wasn’t there.
She slid off the bed and fiddled with the framed photos on her dresser. The truth had marched into the room uninvited and demanded to be acknowledged.
“A couple of years ago I asked Daddy what happened that summer you were sick.” Zoe found the courage to face Mom again. “Things didn’t make a whole lot of sense in my mind. Why you weren’t here when we got home. Why you stayed away so long.”
“He told you.” Mom inhaled, a painful expression freezing her face.
“Why did you do it?” The question came out more like a wail. “Were we not enough for you? Not good enough?”
Silence followed. She had finally unwrapped years of unspoken thoughts. Unspeakable subjects Zoe always thought were best left alone.
Mom lowered her head and covered her face with her hands for a long moment. “I was in a bad place back then, Zo. Nothing made sense for me anymore. I wasn’t thinking rationally. I don’t know why I did it now. How I thought it would solve anything. How I could have ever imagined leaving you, putting you through that pain.”
“Adam doesn’t know.” Zoe met her mother’s anguished expression. “When you called to tell me what happened, that’s the first thing I thought of. You. All those years ago. How desperate you must have been. How desperate he was. I knew he was unhappy. I knew he wasn’t doing well at school. I should have said something to you and Dad. Maybe if I’d—”
“No!” Mom was beside her in an instant, her eyes flashing with an intensity that was almost frightening. “Do not blame yourself.” She ran a hand down Zoe’s wet cheek. “My darling, no. We’ve got to stop this. We’re all carrying around enough guilt to fill an entire container ship.”
Mom shook her head, her hair shining under the glow of the bedroom light. “What I did, what Adam did, what happened to Shelby, none of that was your fault, Zoe. Or Dad’s. We made our own choices. That’s all it is: bad choices and circumstances beyond our control.”
“Why is it so hard to move on?” Zoe held her elbows and hugged her arms tight. “I wish I could forget everything that’s happened the past year, but I can’t. This thing with Adam seems like the last straw. Why does our family have to be so messed up?”
A sound pulled her gaze away from Mom.
Dad stood in the doorway, looking like somebody had punched him in the stomach.
Zoe’s heart sank. Mom stared at him, too, and nobody spoke.
“I filled up your car.” He tossed her car keys from one hand to the other. “Checked the tires. You should be all set in the morning.” He placed the keys on the dresser and hesitated. Zoe had never seen him look so sad, so broken.
It was like all the life had suddenly been sucked from him. He looked from her to Mom, let out his breath, and turned and left the room.
“Oh my gosh, he heard everything! I know he did.” Zoe stared at her mother in horror. “Should I go talk to him?”
Mom shook her head, pulled Zoe against her in a brief hug, and stood. “No. Let him be. When he’s ready to talk, he will. Why don’t you go find Adam and order a couple of pizzas for dinner?”
“Okay.” She pushed trembling hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, Mom. I wouldn’t do that.”
“Sweetheart, I know. And he knows that too. Part of facing up to the consequences of our choices is dealing with the fallout. I think Daddy is slowly starting to realize that.”
Mom shut the door and Zoe sank onto her bed, chest heaving.
Finally, her tears spent, she reached for her cell. And punched in Tim’s number.
We eat a quiet dinner. Poor Zoe. As if things weren’t bad enough. She has no idea what to say to Kevin. Neither do I. It’s been two weeks since we last talked about reconciling. I think he’s afraid to bring it up again. Or maybe he’s waiting for me to. And part of me is still afraid.
Tonight it’s Adam who keeps conversation going. He cracks corny jokes and talks about the trips we used to take and the time the new tent Kevin bought—he was so proud of the purchase—came crashing down on us in the middle of the night, startling campers and wildlife for miles as we all shrieked and hollered, tangled up in sleeping bags and canvas and laughter.
Zoe asks if Tim can come stay next weekend and we share a smile. Before Kevin and Adam came in to eat, she told me they’d talked, that she and Tim wanted to work things out. I’m happy for her.
Later, once I shove paper plates in the trash, wash cutlery and the salad bowl, I go in search of Kevin.
I know exactly where he’ll be.
I grab my coat and gloves, pull on my boots, and head out to the patio. The night is cold, starlit, and snowy. In typical New England fashion, Mother Nature has decided to give one last nod to winter, and there’s even talk of a blizzard heading our way this week.
Where Hope Begins Page 24
