She went into his arms for another hug. “Thank you. I needed that this morning.”
He squeezed her hard and then reluctantly let her go.
“I’m going to jump in the shower again and then head over to the compound. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Rachel watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, and then she squared her shoulders and walked out of the bedroom and through the kitchen to the garage where her car was parked.
She was terrified. Her palms were sweaty around the steering wheel, and it irritated her that such a small thing as substitute teaching for middle school kids would frighten her after all she’d been through.
Her therapist would tell her all things in time. It was a mantra she’d repeated a lot over the last year. And it was true enough. Everything in good time. She just had to be patient and cut herself some slack.
Moving was a good step. A positive step in the right direction. Ethan hadn’t understood why she’d gone in such a different direction with the new house they were building. He’d thought they’d have the same house built inside the compound. The house they lived in now was one they’d chosen together and had incorporated all their favorite things.
As she backed out of the garage and stared at the house that had once been her dream, she took a deep breath. The truth was, she couldn’t wait to move away from the house that now represented some of the unhappiest moments in her life.
Her husband had once stood in the living room that she’d painstakingly designed and handed her divorce papers.
She’d never be able to settle back in and just forget that it happened.
She had a new dream now. To stop living in the past. To move forward. New house. New life. New chance to make things right and to leave the past precisely where it belonged.
Chapter 2
When Rachel pulled into her driveway a few minutes after four, she was surprised that Ethan’s truck was already there. She got out, eager to see him and to tell him about her day.
She hauled her briefcase from the passenger seat and started up the walkway. Halfway there, the door opened and Ethan stood against the frame, watching her approach. One hand was behind his back, and as she mounted the steps, he pulled it around so she could see the gorgeous bouquet of flowers he was holding.
They were her favorite. Roses that were a beautiful shade of peach. Not quite orange and not quite pink. For the longest time, Ethan had been unable to buy them for her because he’d taken them to her grave during the year she’d been believed dead.
“To celebrate your first day,” he said.
“They’re beautiful, Ethan!”
She gathered them and buried her nose in the fragrant blossoms.
“How did it go?” Ethan asked as he ushered her inside.
She went in search of a vase and, after stuffing the stems inside and filling it with water, she turned an excited smile on Ethan.
“It went great!
He smiled indulgently at her enthusiasm and then pulled her into his arms.
“I missed you.”
She laughed. “No you didn’t. You were at the compound. You wouldn’t have seen me whether I’d gone to work or not.”
He kissed her nose and squeezed his arms around her. God, but she loved the security of being in his arms. There were still nights she woke in a cold sweat and there he was, always right beside her to hold and comfort her. He always knew too. He’d gather her into his embrace and whisper in her ear that she was safe and that he was here and that nothing would ever hurt her again. Then he’d tell her over and over again how much he loved her and how sorry he was for ever making her doubt it.
“Just knowing you’re here in our home while I’m away makes me feel like I’m with you.”
As they walked into the living room, Ethan’s arm still snugly around her, she noticed the packing boxes scattered around.
“You did get home early,” she exclaimed. “You’ve already started the packing, I see.”
Ethan smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t want you having to do too much. The guys are coming over later to help move the furniture and Ma and Rusty are on their way over now to help pack the smaller stuff.”
Just thinking of her family filled her with a warm glow that never failed to vanquish the shadows of the past. She was loved, and she was whole again. The emptiness that had gnawed at her for so long had finally been filled.
“Guess I should get to it then,” Rachel said, staring around at the living room.
“Uh no,” Ethan said, his voice firm. “First you’re going to sit down, put your feet up, and I’m going to crack open a bottle of wine to celebrate your first day at work.”
She sighed. “You spoil me shamelessly.”
He cracked a grin. “Yup, that’s me. Completely shameless. Park it while I go get the wine.”
He took her briefcase and carried it with him toward the kitchen while she settled onto the leather sofa and, as he’d directed, propped her feet on the ottoman.
Her gaze wandered over the living room, taking in all the details. Details that hadn’t changed since they’d moved in. The piano still occupied the same spot. The framed pictures—of their wedding and of other family times together—were still neatly in their places.
Ethan hadn’t changed anything in the entire year she was presumed dead. Nothing had been changed since her return.
She was ready for that next step. Ready to embrace the new and move away from the old. It was a matter she’d only discussed with her therapist in the sessions that Ethan didn’t attend, but she firmly believed the last step in her recovery was to remove herself from the house that held so many painful memories for her.
There were still gaps in her memory. Maybe she’d never fully regain everything of her past. A year hooked on drugs and the emotional and physical trauma she’d endured had perhaps altered her mind enough that there were simply things she’d never remember. Maybe it was better that way.
It was difficult for her—since she’d lost her memory of so many events—when they did come floating back, she experienced them all over again. Some were hurtful and vivid, and it took days and even weeks to come to terms with them.
It was hard to tell herself it happened four years ago when it was so fresh in her mind. The arguments. The stony silence between her and Ethan. The miscarriage. Ethan being gone. And the accusations that still stung if she let herself dwell on them.
The man Ethan was today wasn’t the man Ethan was in the early stages of their marriage. She knew that. But it was hard when those memories came back to her. New. As if it had happened yesterday.
Her gaze drifted to the bookcase where those damnable papers had been hidden. Immediately the image flashed of that last terrible day when Ethan had stood in front her, his expression impassive as he calmly handed her papers that would effectively end their marriage.
He’d told her not to bother coming back.
And she hadn’t.
For an eternity she’d remained a prisoner in unimaginable circumstances, her mind shattered. She’d clung to the only thing she’d known. Ethan. He’d been the one constant. He would come for her. He wouldn’t let her die in hell. Thank God her mind had protected her from the awful reality of the way they’d parted, or she would have never survived or held on to the hope that he’d come.
“Rachel? Are you okay?”
Ethan’s concerned question drifted through the painful memories, and she blinked, turning in the direction of his voice.
He was holding two glasses of wine, and his brows were drawn together, his sharp gaze peeling back layer after layer until she worried he’d know exactly what she was thinking.
She smiled, mustering all her control to prevent the shaking that usually accompanied the flashbacks. She reached for the wine and nodded. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”