Shocked silence fell between them. Her face was ashen, her lips trembling. His lungs constricted, and he felt as if he were choking. Broken glass lay everywhere, wine and water goblets, shattered pitchers. Shards slicked the floor, brutal ice, the glittering debris of a fractured rainbow life.
He waited for her to fall apart, wanted her to fall apart like he was. Instead, she met his eyes, and through the trembling in her voice, he heard a lifetime of sadness, right along with a toughness he’d never expected. “All right,” she whispered. “All right, then.”
The reality of what he’d said hit home. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want his life broken. He wanted his marriage back, his wife, the woman who’d once looked at him as though he hung the moon and stars. Everything he’d said was true, but where was the relief he should feel at finally getting it off his chest? Where was his old bitterness? He needed it back. He needed to gnaw over the righteousness of his anger so he could justify the broken glass, the shattered marriage.
But he’d waited fourteen years too long to tell her how he felt, and his bitterness had no taste left.
Her breasts rose and fell beneath the soft fabric of her dress. She’d given him everything he’d wanted, everything he’d dreamed of, and instead of treasuring it, he’d just thrown it all back at her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. Her expression was full of compassion and understanding-pain, too, but not the sharp agony he felt. “I’m so very sorry.”
He knew then that he’d screwed everything up, and he had no idea how to make it right. His secret resentment had been the bedrock of their marriage, responsible for her eagerness to please, for his subtle, punitive detachment. But now that resentment had gone up in flames, and he wanted to tell her he loved her. Except she’d never believe the words after everything he’d just hit her with.
His eyes stung. He had to get out of here. He made his way to the door and fumbled with the lock.
She didn’t say a word to keep him with her.
As Sugar Beth came out of the bookstore’s back room, she saw a little boy staring at the Nightingale Woods mobile she’d hung a few hours earlier, part of a promotion for the newest book in the Daphne the Bunny series. The boy was around five, dressed in jeans and a striped T-shirt, and he had the slightly broadened features that signaled Down syndrome.
He was the first child who’d ventured into the dimly lit and awkwardly positioned children’s section all morning. “I know I should give it the same attention I give the rest of the store,” Jewel had said when Sugar Beth had asked her about it as they opened up the store that morning. “But I don’t have any passion for selling children’s books. Besides, they haven’t been profitable for me.”
“Not surprising. It’s hardly the most appealing part of the store.”
Jewel had stuck her small nose in the air. “Fine. If you think you’re so smart, you’re the new manager of the children’s book department.”
“There isn’t a children’s book department.”
“And don’t let it interfere with your other work.”
Sugar Beth had grinned down at her diminutive employer. “Only my third day on the job, and I’ve moved into management. I knew I’d be a star.”
Jewel snorted and walked away.
Sugar Beth had to fight the urge to pick up the phone and call Colin with the news. She couldn’t do that kind of thing any longer. The fact that she’d dumped him didn’t prevent him from calling her, however. Generally he used Gordon as an excuse-he’d insisted on sharing custody. Sometimes he called with a question. Did she remember if she’d renewed his Atlantic Monthly subscription? Had she taken his tweed sports coat to the dry cleaner, because he couldn’t find it? She missed him desperately, and sometimes she wished he’d press her for a dinner date, but he seemed to be biding his time, a hungry wolf on the prowl, waiting for a moment of weakness so he could pounce. Maybe his strategy was working because this morning she’d had to resist the urge to run over and make him breakfast before she headed to the bookstore.
She couldn’t start brooding again, so she turned her attention to her small customer. She was alone in the store, and Jewel would expect her to assist the parent who’d come in with the little boy, but she didn’t. Instead, she followed the direction of his gaze to the fanciful mobile. “Do you like the Daphne books?”
He gave her a wide smile. “Like Benny!” He pointed toward the cardboard figure of a mischievous-looking badger wearing goggles and an aviator’s scarf. “Benny’s my friend. Read book!”
She grinned. How could she resist all that enthusiasm? The boy grabbed one of the earlier books in the series from the display she’d just set up. She took it from him. “What’s your name?”
“Charlie.”
“Come on then, Charlie.” She sat cross-legged on the floor, deciding right then that they needed to add some small chairs or at least a few pillows. She patted the space next to her, and Charlie settled close.
“Daphne Takes a Tumble, by Molly Somerville.” It was probably Colin’s influence, but shouldn’t children be trained from the beginning to recognize authors and titles? “Daphne the Bunny was admiring her sparkly violet nail polish when Benny the Badger zoomed past on his red mountain bike and knocked her off her paws…”
“I like this part.” Charlie climbed into her lap, and by the third page, he’d wound his fingers through a lock of her hair.
“… Benny pedaled faster and faster. In the road ahead he saw a great big puddle.” She heard the front bell chime and fervently hoped Jewel had returned so she could wait on the other customers because Sugar Beth wasn’t going anywhere. Charlie reached over and turned the page. “This is a really good part.”
“Benny laughed and pretended the puddle was the ocean. The ocean! Splashhhh!”
“Splash!” he mimicked.
They finally reached the end of the book, and he turned up his face to give her another of his heart-melting smiles. “You a very good reader.”
“And you a very good listener.”
She sensed a movement off to her right and looked over to see Leeann standing at the end of the biography section watching them. Sugar Beth gently set Charlie aside and rose. Leeann wore slacks and crepe-soled shoes, so she must be on her way to the hospital or coming off her shift.
“Mommy!” Charlie ran to her. “I like Benny and Daphne!”
“I know you do, punkin’.” Although Leeann spoke to her son, her eyes stayed on Sugar Beth.
“I want book. Please, Mommy.”
“You already have that book.”
“Don’t have that one.” He raced for the display, snatched up the newest book in the series, and carried it back to her. “What’s this say?”
“Victoria Chipmunk and Her Bothersome Baby Brother.”
“Don’t have that one.”
“How much is it?” Leeann asked.
Sugar Beth was so disconcerted it took her a moment to find the price. Leeann rubbed Charlie’s head. “If you get a new book, you can’t buy a toy the next time we go to Wal-Mart.”
“Okeydoke.”
“All right. Take it to the register. I’ll be there in a minute.”