Chapter Thirteen

Prudence jumped. "Larth!" She looked guilty as fizzak.

He'd trusted her. "What the fizzak are you doing? How dare you?" She shrank into the chair as he snatched the disk from her hand and shut off the hologram.

After packing up the few remaining items from the stall, he'd taken them to the new location. Prudence hadn't gotten there yet, so he'd come home to find out what had delayed her.

"You snooped through my private, personal things!" Residual grief, guilt, and betrayal erupted into hot rage. He'd broken his promise to Sala for Prudence—and this was how she repaid him? He'd gotten the gist that Prudence was preoccupied with his late wife, but he never expected she'd sink this low.

What right did she have to look so stricken? He was the injured party. She'd violated his trust, disrespected the boundaries of common decency, tore open a healing wound, and stabbed him anew. Unable to bear the sight of her, he turned his back.

"It wasn't like that, I swear! It was an accident!"

The ridiculous excuse stoked his fury. "Oh, accident, right." He turned to find her standing up, her expression pleading, her blue eyes swimming in tears. "The desk is empty, but you accidentally opened the very last drawer, accidentally opened a box hidden all the way in the back, and accidentally activated the disk. Then you accidentally watched it."

Since his involvement with Pru had grown, he'd been able to forget about the disk. Previously, he'd been aware of the disk every second that his mind wasn't actively engaged with other matters. Unfinished business, the disk called out to him . I'm here. Watch me, watch me, watch me.

But he'd put off watching it. Tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow, he would say, each day making that same promise. He had no idea she'd recorded a message until the stasis pod center had forwarded the box after her death. If he never watched the hologram, Sala's final words would remain unsaid, a message yet to be delivered. But, if he viewed it, her last words would slip into the past, and a tiny sliver of tomorrow, the only future he had left with her, would be erased .

Prudence had robbed him of that future few minutes with his late wife.

"I was checking the desk for items to take to the bakery office when I found the box. I didn't mean to turn the disk on. It came on by itself. I tried to turn it off!"

"You've had a problem with Sala since the beginning," he said. "But you knew I'd been married before and the circumstances of what had happened. Our marriage is a business arrangement. You accepted that."

"I felt things had changed, and you were starting to care for me. I love you."

The situation had changed. He had begun to care for her. He still loved Sala, but he loved Prudence, also, in a way that was real and present. But without trust and respect, what did they have? An hour ago, her declaration of love would have thrilled him. Now, he felt manipulated.

"This is how you show your love, by intruding, by violating my trust? You said you were going to study the financials—not watch private messages from my wife."

" Your wife ? Did you hear what you said?" Remorse vanished in a burst of anger. "That's the fucking problem right there. I'm your wife now, but all I hear is Sala, Sala, Sala! She's dead. I'm here. I'm alive ." She grabbed the box off the desk and shook it in his face so hard the disk rattled inside. "This is what's left of your beloved Sala!"

Silence filled the room. Eyes wide, Prudence shook her head. "Oh, Larth. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that." Carefully, she placed the box on the desktop.

"You meant it. You didn't mean to say it." He turned away.

"Please. I'm so sorry." She touched his sleeve.

The gliteri along his arm tingled, and he jerked away. "Don't touch me! Just go. I can't stand to look at you right now."

The reflection in the window showed her leaving, but the anger, betrayal, jealousy, and hurt remained and swirled in the room. He clenched his fists and stared sightlessly at the cloudtopper across the way.

Moments later, he caught the reflection of movement. Pru stood behind him with a small case in hand.

"I'm going to Hope's for a while. We both need to consider whether we intend for this business arrangement to continue. I know how important the grand opening is. I'll be there to help. After that, we'll see." She left the apartment.

Pru had said she loved him, yet everything she'd done today indicated the opposite. He'd lost his first wife to death, and now, he was losing his second one to betrayal. How could he trust her after this? She'd implied he hadn't gotten over Sala, when obviously she was consumed by jealousy over a dead woman. What was he supposed to do? Pretend he hadn't been married before?

The past was immutable; only the future could be changed. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he and Prudence would have one.

* * * *

"H-h-he's still in l-l-love with her." Prudence sobbed. "He's never g-g-going to get over her. He hates me." She buried her face in her hands.

When Pru had appeared on Hope's doorstep, her friend had gotten one glimpse of her face and the suitcase in her hand, hugged her, and pulled her into the apartment. "Tell me what happened," she'd said.

Pru had burst into tears and hadn't been able to stop crying since. She could barely speak.

"I don't know the whole story, but Larth would never hate you." Hope rubbed her back. They were sitting on the living room sofa. "He's not that kind of man, and you would never do anything to cause anybody to hate you."

Pru drew in a shuddering breath and tried to pull herself together. She'd shaken the box so hard, the disk inside had clattered like a death rattle. She'd created a new meaning to the phrase. "But I d-d-did. I shook Sala in his face."

"What?" Hope frowned. "I don't understand."

Mocking her death had been unforgivable. The instant the angry spiel left her mouth, she'd regretted it. But, why, why couldn't he have listened to her? He wouldn't let her explain or apologize. The disgust in his eyes had cut her deep. At his automatic condemnation, suppressed insecurities and jealousies had surged to the surface, and she'd retaliated out of hurt.

That didn't excuse hitting below the belt. She felt horrible, ashamed.

She heard rather than saw Don Juan enter the living room.

"Don Juan, we need some chocolate—stat!" Hope said.

"Fudge or brownies?" he asked .

"Bring them both. This is a chocolate emergency. And some iced tea."

The android left.

"Chocolate—the universal antidote for a broken heart." Pru gave a small smile. After William's defection, she'd done a high dive into a vat of Rocky Road ice cream. "I hate to ask you, hate to impose, but can I stay here for a while—a few days—until I figure out what I'm going to do?"

"Of course you can! That's a given. You don't need to ask. Stay as long as you like." She peered at her with concern. "But are you sure you need to? Maybe you two can work it out—"

"It's unworkable." Her heart contracted painfully. Her friend hadn't seen the disgust in his eyes or heard the scorn in his voice. His affection had been shallow. If he'd loved her, he would have let her explain, wouldn't have let her leave. He hadn't even turned around when she'd said goodbye.

She'd fled before he'd ordered her to go.

The android returned and set a tray of chocolate and two drinks on the table that popped up in front of the sofa. "May I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you," Hope replied .

Pru shook her head. Not even chocolate could help, but she took a piece of fudge anyway.

Don Juan lingered in the room as if waiting for something. She remembered how he'd waited for a report on his cooking at lunch that day. She took a nibble of the candy. Rich and creamy. "It's delicious," she said.

"Your heart is fractured," the android announced.

The robot noticed emotion? Well, duh. I was sobbing uncontrollably.

"The man called Larth did that to your heart," he said.

She glanced at Hope. "How did you know that?"

"My sound receptors are acutely sensitive. From the information I heard, I deduced you are saddened because he hurt your heart."

"Yes, I am sad."

"I can dismantle him so he will not break your heart again."

Dismantle? Did he just offer to whack Larth? "No! Don't do that!"

"Absolutely not," Hope said quickly. "Don't do anything, don't say anything to him."

"All right. I will let him continue to function. "

"Why would you even say that?" Pru gaped at the android.

"You are a friend of Hope Bennett. I protect Hope and Krogan and all persons in this domicile against all enemies foreign and domestic."

"Larth is not my enemy."

"If you say so." He reversed and left the room.

Pru and Hope exchanged a glance. "You could have used him when Gleezer the Geezer was stalking you," Pru said.

"I know, right?" Hope giggled. She sobered and patted Prudence's knee. "Now that you can speak, do you want to tell me what happened?"

She gave her a rundown of how she'd found the hologram, Larth catching her, and his anger. "He felt like I violated his privacy, but I didn't mean to. And I didn't see very much. The hologram had just started when he came in."

"Give him time to get over it."

"The hologram or Sala?"

"I meant the hologram, but both, actually."

"What if he doesn't though?"

"You've been married less than three weeks. This is your first fight as a married couple. There's always an adjustment period. "

"It's more than a fight. It's been well over a year since she died." She held up her hand when Hope started to object. "The grieving process is different for everyone. But he advertised for a wife! He said he intended the marriage to be in name only, but he changed the terms of our agreement when he started having sex with me. If he wasn't ready to get married, then he shouldn't have done it."

I shouldn't have done it either. She'd gotten married for the wrong reason—to escape public humiliation and pity. She had been imprudent .

After her fiancé had jilted her for another woman, she'd jumped into marriage with a man obsessed with his dead wife. Was she doomed to fall in love with unobtainable men? She could dredge up no goodwill for the bimbo who'd stolen William, but she didn't blame Sala. The thirty seconds she'd seen of the hologram made her feel even worse about what had happened to her—getting sick, going into stasis not knowing if she'd survive, and then not. It was unfair, tragic. No wonder Larth had been devastated.

However, he had a chance to be happy if he could let go of the past. But he couldn't. If they'd remained strictly on a business footing, it would be different. But she couldn't bear to remain in a marriage when the man she loved, loved somebody else. Even if the woman was dead.

"So, what are you going to do?" Hope asked.

"I promised to be at the grand opening the day after tomorrow. I won't go back on my word. I'll stay until the bakery is up and running, and he can handle it by himself. He has an android now, and she's more than capable of doing all the required baking."

She didn't know how she could stand working side by side with him, but maybe the shop would be so busy, they wouldn't have to interact much. And if it was slow, then he wouldn't need her. "Once the shop is operating on an even keel, I'm going back to Terra Nova."