Library

Chapter Nine

Zara

"Who was that?" I startle and turn to see Russ standing beside me. I didn't even hear him come over, but that's because I've been watching Tanner walk away, and I couldn't help smiling, and daydreaming…

"He's a parent," I say, although that's not even half the story.

He frowns, and I let out a sigh. I hope he's not going to be jealous, because he has no right.

"Really? His son looks too old to be in your class."

"He is."

"Then why were you talking for so long?"

"Because he was asking me to have dinner with him, if you must know."

Damn… I didn't mean to say that, and as Russ moves around in front of me, blocking my view of Tanner's retreating back, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut.

"Dinner?" he says.

"Yes."

"Is that wise?"

I take a breath, trying to rein in my growing anger. "He's not married." I'm thrilled to say. "He's divorced. So what's the problem?"

"Only that dating the parents of students isn't usually something schools go for."

"I'm pretty sure that only applies if the students are in our class, but if you know something different…"

He holds up his hands. "I don't, and I'm sure you're right. It's just that in small towns like this, people can be weird about things like that."

"Maybe they can, but to be honest, it's none of their damn business."

He tilts his head. "And is that your way of saying it's none of my damn business, either?" I don't reply and he steps back, nodding. "Do you still wanna have coffee with me, or would you rather suffer death by a thousand cuts?"

"That seems a little extreme," I say.

"Which one? The coffee, or the ancient Chinese method of execution?"

"The latter."

"In that case," he says, and he turns toward the door, holding it open for me, just as his phone beeps. He waits until we're both inside, then pulls it out, and checks the screen as he smiles. Without a word, he replies to the message, and then puts his phone away before he looks up at me again. "Sorry. That was my fiancée, just checking I survived the day," he says, as he opens the door to the teachers' lounge.

I'm surprised but do my best to hide it, helped by the fact that there are quite a few people in here, and the noise level is fairly high.

"I didn't realize you were engaged," I say, looking over my shoulder as I make my way to the coffee machine.

"Yeah. We live in Concord. Hattie's just started working at the hospital there."

"As a nurse?"

He nods his head, selecting a couple of cups for us and waiting while I fill them with coffee from the machine. "This was the only teaching position I could find within commuting distance, so I took it, even though I seem to be entirely surrounded by women." He says all that with a smile, and I have to smile back, feeling not only relieved that we've overcome our argument, but also a little foolish that I thought he was attracted to me… and jealous of Tanner.

"Shall we sit?" I suggest, and he nods, finding two vacant chairs in the corner of the room. He waits until I'm seated before he joins me, and then leans back, resting his head. "Does your fiancée mind you working with so many women?" I ask, and he turns, looking at me.

"No. She trusts me. She knows I'm not dumb enough to stray. I've got far too much to lose."

I really did read him wrong… although it seems I'm good at that. Let's face it, I've only met two men since I've been in Hart's Creek, and I've misjudged them both.

"How was your first day?" I ask, needing a change of subject, and he takes a deep breath.

"Not as bad as I thought it might be. How about yours?"

"The same. The kids are really nice and a lot better behaved than I expected… with one exception."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I've got a boy in my class who I think could turn into a world-class bully, given the opportunity."

"He sounds like fun."

"I think he gets it from his mother."

"You've met his mother?" Russ seems surprised, and I turn slightly in my chair so I'm facing him, and can lean in and lower my voice.

"I wasn't given much choice."

"Of course. You had to greet them all this morning, didn't you?"

"Yes. And hand them back this afternoon."

"And that was how you met this kid's mother?" he says.

"She accosted me in the schoolyard just now, wanting to know why her precious son couldn't already recite all one hundred and fifty-four of Shakespeare's sonnets."

Russ stifles a laugh, almost spilling his coffee. "Ahh… a pushy parent. Just what you need."

"Not really," I say, rolling my eyes and taking a sip from my cup. "Did you have any difficulties?"

"Not with parents, and to be fair, most of the kids were fine."

"Most?"

"I've got a couple of girls who seem hell-bent on making trouble, but I don't think it's anything I can't handle."

I hope he's right, for his sake, as much as anything.

We both swallow down our coffee and he checks his watch.

"Do you need to be somewhere?" I ask.

"Not especially, but Hattie was on an early shift today, so I'd kinda like to get out of here."

"Then go."

He glances around at the other members of staff, who are still sitting and standing in small groups, talking about their day, like we are.

"You don't think we need to hang on for any reason?"

"No. I'm gonna leave."

He stands, smiling down at me and he holds out his hand, which I take, letting him pull me to my feet.

"See you tomorrow," he says.

"Have a nice evening."

"You, too." There's a sparkle in his eyes, but I ignore it, and make my way to my locker, where I grab my purse. Margot isn't here, so I have to assume she's already left for the day, but I check the classroom, just to be sure. It's empty and already feels a little weird without the children. Still, they'll all return tomorrow, as will I, and I surprise myself by looking forward to it.

I close the door, heading down the corridor and out into the schoolyard, which is deserted now, thank goodness. I'm not in the mood for any more parents… except Tanner, of course.

I get home in just a few minutes, relieved that today was all about getting to know the children, the classroom, and having a little fun – despite Mrs. Knox's opinions – so there's no school work for me to check. I'm surprised by how tired I feel, and I'd rather get ready to see Tanner and enjoy my evening, than fret over anything to do with work.

I wash my travel mug, ready for the morning, then fix myself a coffee and take it with me into the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand before I get undressed, examining that splash of red paint on my pants, and carrying them back out to the tiny laundry room, where I put them straight on to wash. The paint should come out, but I don't want to risk leaving it, and I return to the bedroom, sipping at my coffee and then go back out into the bathroom.

It doesn't take me long to shower, and afterwards, I take my time choosing a dress. I'm torn between a plain pink one, in a wrap-around style, or one that's essentially blue, although the flowers printed on it are purple. It's more formal than the pink one and is strapless, with a flowing skirt. I've always thought it looks really feminine. More than the other one? I can't be sure about that, but I like it, and pull it out of my closet, laying it on the bed.

I've never been able to walk very well in heels, as a consequence of which, I don't own any. But I have a pretty pair of ballerina flats, in the perfect shade of blue, and I find them in the bottom of the closet, check they're clean, and put them out on the floor by the bed.

I'll have to switch purses. My regular one is black, and won't work at all, but I've got a blue one, and I go back out to the kitchen, bringing back my black one and emptying the contents onto the bed, so I can transfer everything I'll need for the evening. My phone lands face-up, and I'm surprised to find I've got two text messages. They're from an unknown number, but I pick up the phone anyway and click on them, a smile forming on my lips when I read…

— Can't wait to see you tonight. T

That's obviously from Tanner. But there's a second message, and I wonder what more he can have to say. It can't be any better than that… surely.

— This is Tanner, by the way. I thought I should make that clear, in case you know a lot of people with the initial ‘T'. And I still can't wait to see you. T

I chuckle and lie back on the bed, my phone clutched in my hands as I type out a reply…

— I guessed it was you. I know a few people whose initial is ‘T', but I'm not seeing any of them tonight. Z

I quickly add him to my contacts list, under ‘T' for Tanner, and put down the phone, letting out a sigh, although I snatch it back up almost immediately, and tap out a second message.

— Can't wait to see you, too.

I'm fizzing with excitement, but I'm also still naked and I get up, wandering to my dresser and pulling open the top two drawers.

Underwear…

This is one of the few areas of my life – other than books – where I don't mind spending a little extra cash to get what I want. And when it comes to lingerie, I want it as soft as possible. For tonight, I also need the bra to be strapless. That gives me two choices: white or black. They're both the same style, and I select the white one, because I have a matching thong. I find that and hold it up, smiling. This thong is so comfortable, I have it in every color available… except black, which I've never been able to get hold of. I have bras to go with the other thongs, in blue, pink, red, and cream… or ‘peacock', ‘bubblegum', ‘scarlet', and ‘champagne', as the manufacturer calls them. None of them are strapless, though, so white it is…

I wander over to the bed, putting down my underwear, and finish my coffee, which is almost cold, then I make my way back to the bathroom and clean my teeth, before returning to the bedroom to dry my hair, leaving it loose around my shoulders, in the softest curls I can manage. That just leaves makeup. I don't want to use too much, but I want it to look like I've made an effort, and when I'm happy with the effect, I get dressed.

I hope I haven't gone too far, and as I put on my shoes and glance at myself in the mirror, I wonder if I'm overdressed. I don't even know where we're going tonight, but I've already noticed there's only one restaurant in town. There's the hotel, though… and a bar on the corner of Main Street. If that's our destination, I've definitely gone overboard, and I wish I'd asked now, instead of making such a fool of myself over Tanner's invitation to dinner. My only excuse is relief… that he's not married, and I don't have to nurse a broken heart. But that doesn't help me right now.

I yelp at the sound of the doorbell and glance at the clock beside the bed.

It's seven already? But how? Where did all that time go?

Either way, it's too late to think about changing, and with a mixture of fear and excitement, I leave my room and head for the front door, pulling it open.

Tanner's jaw drops open and he whispers, "Oh, my God."

"It's too much, isn't it?" I say, looking down at myself. "I'll go…" I step back into the house, but he grabs my hand.

"Don't you dare. Don't even think about changing a thing. You look…" He sucks in a breath, letting it out, and tilts his head, his eyes wandering up and down my body, making me blush. "You look perfect."

"Perfect?"

"Yes. More beautiful than I could ever have imagined… and I've got a very vivid imagination."

"I'm sure you have." He smiles and I take in his dark suit and white shirt, open at the neck, and the delicious aroma of his body wash, letting my own imagination wander for a moment or two before he coughs, bringing me back to reality.

"I hope it's okay, but I didn't bring my car. I thought we could walk."

"That's fine. I just need to grab my purse."

He nods his head, releasing my hand, and I rush back inside, stashing everything I need into my purse, cursing myself for not doing it earlier, and then adding my keys from the breakfast bar before I rejoin him on the doorstep.

"Ready?" He offers me his hand again, and I take it, pulling the door closed behind me. "Thanks for your messages," he says, looking down at me. "I wasn't sure you'd reply."

We haven't moved an inch and I stare up into his sparkling blue eyes. "It seemed only polite. Although I'll bet you don't know many people with the initial ‘Z'."

"None at all… except you," he says, chuckling.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we make our way down the footpath onto the sidewalk.

"I booked us a table at the French restaurant. Is that okay?"

"It's fine." I turn and look up at him. "To be honest, I was hoping you'd say that."

"Why?" He frowns down at me, looking confused.

"I thought my dress might be a little over the top for the bar."

He chuckles. "It might have been. But I'd never have taken you to Dawson's place."

"Oh? Isn't it very nice?"

"It's lovely. But aside from them not serving food in the evenings, Dawson and I go way back. He's my oldest friend, and I think I'd rather we had our first date in private."

I can't help smiling at the thought that this is hopefully the first of many dates, although I'm relieved we don't have too far to walk, because I feel a little exposed. I hadn't thought that through when I was deciding what to wear, but I guess I hadn't anticipated we'd be walking. Even so, I'm glad to get inside, and I notice Tanner's smile as a man wearing a black shirt and pants comes over.

"Hey, Archer. How's things?" he says.

"Busy," the man called Archer replies. "But I'm not complaining."

He guides us toward the back of the restaurant, stopping by a table in a quiet corner. Tanner releases my hand, holding my chair for me, and I sit, waiting until he takes his place opposite before we both look up at Archer, who's standing beside us.

He offers menus, which we both take, and he smiles.

"We've just started our new fall menu this week," he says. "Hopefully you'll like it."

"I'm sure we will," Tanner replies and Archer leaves.

I have no idea what was on the menu before, but it looks amazing now, and I study it for a second or two, looking up when Tanner fills our glasses with water from the bottle on the table.

"Thanks," I murmur, and we clink our glasses together, taking a sip. "I thought you said you wanted our first date to be in private."

"I do." He looks confused again.

"But you seemed to know that man."

"Archer?" he says and I nod my head. "Sure, I know him, but not like I know Dawson. Archer's only been here for a few years. I've known Dawson for as long as I can remember."

"I see." I nod my head and he gives me a smile as we both return our attention to our menus.

"This looks incredible," Tanner says. "I'm spoiled for choice."

"Was the menu good before?" I ask, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't know. This is the first time I've eaten here."

"This isn't somewhere you came with your wife?"

"Ex-wife. And no. I think Sabrina and I were already in the process of splitting up by the time this place opened. Like I said, Archer hasn't been here for very long."

"So where did you and Sabrina used to eat?" I ask.

"At the hotel."

I wonder if he chose to come here so there wouldn't be any reminders of the past, but decide against making a big deal of it.

"What about since your divorce?"

"I haven't dated anyone since Sabrina and I split up," he says.

"Seriously?"

"Wasn't that obvious from the way I fumbled over asking you out?"

"Not really. I can't say I noticed too much in the way of fumbling."

"Probably because you were worrying about my attentions, and whether they were appropriate."

"You're making fun of me again," I say and he reaches out, taking my hand.

"No, I'm not. I wasn't making fun of you before, either."

I can feel myself blush. "I'm sorry about what happened."

"You don't need to keep apologizing. It was an easy enough mistake to make in the circumstances."

"Maybe it was, but I could have been more polite about it."

"As long as you didn't agree to have dinner with me just to be polite," he says, with a slight hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Of course not."

His eyes sparkle as he smiles and nods toward my menu. "I guess we'd better decide what we're gonna eat."

We both look down at our menus, although he doesn't let go of my hand, and I like that. It feels comfortable.

"I'm definitely having the crab ravioli to start," I say.

"So am I. It sounds amazing."

I smile up at him, wondering how I can feel so at home with someone I barely know. It seems impossible, and yet that's exactly how he makes me feel… like I belong. He lets his eyes drop to the menu, and I study him for a second longer, my body heating, my skin tingling, and then I go back to working out what to eat… if I can eat anything at all.

The chicken in rosemary and lemon sauce sounds good, and not too heavy, and I ask Tanner for that. He nods his head, flipping to the back of the menu where there's a wine list. I don't look myself. I know practically nothing about wine, and I let him make the choice.

Once that's done, he gives the order to a waiter. He's not the man who showed us to our seats, but he makes a note of everything Tanner says, and leaves us alone, taking the menus with him.

The moment his back is turned, Tanner moves the flowers from the center of the table to one side, and fills the space with our clasped hands.

"If anyone should apologize, it's me," he says.

"What for?"

"Trampling you to the ground."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah. That. I feel so guilty about it, but I've gotta say, I'm also relieved."

"Relieved? Why?"

He leans in again. "Because if I hadn't done it, I'd never have met you."

"Yes, you would. Your son goes to the school where I teach. We'd have been bound to meet sometime."

"Maybe. But I don't usually take Nash to school. I don't collect him, either… except on Fridays."

"Fridays?"

"Yeah. He comes to my place every weekend."

"I see. But today isn't Friday in case you didn't notice, and you were there, so…"

"I know. I called his mom and asked if I could pick him up."

"You did?"

"Yeah. I wanted to see you, Zara." He shifts in his seat, moving closer. "This may not be the way things are done these days, but I can't see the point in pretending."

"Pretending about what?"

"Anything." He looks down at our joined hands and then raises his eyes to mine again. His expression has changed, although I can't work out what it means. He looks more serious, and perhaps a little intense. "I like you," he says. "A lot."

I know the answer to that should probably be to remind him he doesn't know me. Except that doesn't seem important, and I glance down, noticing the slight ridge on his ring finger, where he must have worn a wedding band… once upon a time. Still, he's not wearing one now, and I look up at him again, smiling. "I don't know how things are done, either, but I like you too, Tanner." That's not strictly true. My feelings for him go a lot deeper than ‘liking', but this is a good place to start, and the way he grips my hand and nods his head makes me think he feels the same.

At that moment, the waiter brings the wine, which Tanner has to taste. He does so, looking as though he knows what he's doing, and nods his approval to the waiter, who pours a little into each of our glasses and leaves again.

"I hope red's okay?" Tanner says as we clink our glasses together. "I went for something quite light."

"I don't know the first thing about wine, but I'm sure it'll be fine." We continue to stare at each other, like we couldn't stop if we wanted to. I know I couldn't.

"If you're not a budding wine connoisseur, what do you do in your spare time?" he asks.

"I read. My collection of books is astounding."

He grins. "You enjoy reading?"

"I always have done."

"So, you might be interested to know I own the bookstore?"

"The one I was looking at when you…"

"When I walked right into you because I wasn't paying attention? Yes… that very one. I inherited it from my parents."

"Inherited?" I lean back a little. "You mean, they're…?"

He nods his head. "My dad died when I was in my early twenties, and then Mom ran the store by herself for a while, until she got cancer, and…" He doesn't need to finish that sentence. His expression does it for him.

"Did you work with them?" I ask, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, which makes him smile.

"No. Back then, I was employed by a large book distribution company based in Concord."

"I see. So, you still had a book-related job?"

"I suppose. Although it was mostly paperwork, and to be honest, I hated it. The pay was great, but I've never been so bored in my life. When Mom's cancer was diagnosed, and it was clear she wouldn't be able to keep things going at the bookstore, I resigned from my job and took over from her."

"Did you have to move back here?"

He shakes his head. "No. We were already living in Hart's Creek, and I was commuting into Concord every day. It's not that far, and I didn't mind that aspect of it. It was just the work that I didn't enjoy."

"We? You were married by then?"

"Yes."

"And how did your wife feel about your decision?"

"She wasn't exactly pleased," he says, although I imagine that's an enormous understatement. "She tried to persuade me to stay where I was, and told me I was wasting my time and should just sell the shop, rather than try to keep it going."

"But you didn't want to sell?"

"No. It never even crossed my mind. I knew I wouldn't earn as much as I could by working for someone else, but I'd grown up in the bookstore. I love everything about books… the way they feel, the smell of them…"

"I can understand that."

He smiles. "Besides, Mom was still alive when all of that happened, and I knew how disappointed she'd be if I gave in at the first hurdle."

I stare into his eyes, seeing a hint of sadness in them. "You miss her, don't you?"

"Yeah. I miss my dad, too, but I guess he's been gone longer."

I nod my head. "I know how you feel… at least in part. My father died a few years ago."

He tightens his grip on my hand. "I'm sorry, Zara."

"Thank you."

"What happened?"

"He had a heart attack when he was at work. Mom got a call from his boss, but there was nothing that could be done."

"Where were you when this happened?" Tanner asks.

"I was at college, but fortunately, because I'm so shy, I'd decided to study close to home, and I could get back to her within thirty minutes or so."

"So, you were there for her?"

"Yeah. I've always been relieved about that. Although it made it hard to leave and come here. I had to be sure she was okay."

"You couldn't have stayed?" he asks, and then shakes his head. "Sorry. That came out wrong. I'm grateful you're here. I'm just wondering why you had to leave."

"Because there was no school in the town where I grew up."

"Where did you study when you were a child?"

"In a town about seven miles away. There was a school there."

"I see. And you couldn't have commuted there for work?"

"I could, and I did for my student teacher training, but when it came to getting a job, they had no vacancies. And in any case, I wanted to spread my wings. My mom encouraged me to find something further afield, and the job came up here."

"So, where's ‘home'?" he asks.

"It's here now," I say, and he smiles. "Although I'm originally from north Vermont."

"Not a million miles away, then?"

"No. It's about two hours by car. Far enough that I feel I've gained some independence, but still close enough to visit."

At that moment, our appetizers arrive. The smells are enough to make my mouth water and although I regret having to let go of Tanner's hand, I'm hungry, and the food in front of me looks delicious.

"This is good," Tanner says after his first mouthful.

"It certainly is."

He sips his wine and gazes at me, like he can't quite believe we're here, and after our misunderstanding over his marital status, I'm still struggling a little with that myself. To be honest, I'm also intrigued. He said he found his wife with another man, but other than that, I know nothing about his marriage, or – more to the point – his divorce… and I feel I need to. I put down my fork, holding on to my wineglass as I look across the table at him.

"Do you mind if I ask about your divorce?"

He copies my actions, although he lifts his glass and swallows a long sip of wine. "Not at all. What do you want to know?"

"You said your wife cheated on you…"

He nods his head. "She did. More than once."

"Was she mad? Who in their right mind would cheat on you once, let alone…" I stop talking, wondering if the few sips of wine I've had have already gone to my head. "Sorry," I mumble.

"Why are you apologizing?" Tanner says, putting down his glass. "Didn't you mean what you said?"

"Yes, I did. Every word."

He smiles, reaching around the glasses to take my hand. "Then don't apologize."

I nod my head and he gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it, so we can eat. "The… the cheating," I say between mouthfuls. "Did it happen after you had Nash?"

"It could have been going on before, but as far as I'm aware, it all started when he was little. The first guy I know about for sure was Mitch Bradshaw."

Bradshaw…? The name is familiar and I rack my brain, trying to recall where I've heard it.

"Oh… Are you saying you caught your wife in bed with Addison's real father?" I already thought that family's story was complicated, but this takes it to another level.

He shakes his head. "Sabrina's affair with Mitch was something I became aware of, not something I actually witnessed, and it happened before he married Laurel."

"Is that Addison's mom?"

"Yeah. As far as I'm aware, she knows nothing about what happened between Mitch and Sabrina, and I wouldn't want her to find out about it."

"I'm not gonna say a word."

He smiles. "Good."

"If you didn't catch them together, how did you find out about them?"

"Sabrina's an interior designer, and Mitch Bradshaw had just moved back here…"

"From where?" I ask, cutting into another piece of ravioli. The sauce is divine, and I add some to my fork.

"From Canada," Tanner says. "He'd been playing pro football up there for years, but had retired and decided to come home."

"I see. So he was a native of Hart's Creek?"

"He sure was, and when he came back, he bought himself a house, which he wanted remodeled."

"And let me guess? He asked your wife to do that for him?"

"He did. It was an extensive project, and worth a lot of money, which Sabrina made a point of telling me at every opportunity. I was working in the store by then, and the drop in my income was noticeable. She never let me forget it." He sips at his wine again.

"Did you mind that?"

"Which? The drop in income? Or being reminded of it all the time?"

"Both, I guess."

"I couldn't have cared less about the money, but I wasn't too keen on Sabrina making me feel inadequate whenever she got the chance."

"Did it cause problems between you?"

"We were certainly arguing a lot more than we'd ever done before, but my mom was in the hospital, and I was making changes at the bookstore, too. There was a lot going on. Even so, I was pleased when she got the contract from Mitch. He was famous around here, and I knew it would be good for her business."

"She works for herself, does she?" I ask.

"Oh, God, yes. There's no way Sabrina would ever tolerate taking orders from anyone else."

I can't help laughing, and Tanner joins in. "How did she care for Nash while she was working?"

"That mostly fell to me. Especially after she started Mitch's project. I didn't mind," he says, smiling. "I enjoyed looking after him. But as time went on, it got harder and harder. My mom's health was deteriorating, and I needed to go to the hospital more often, but whenever I asked Sabrina if she'd come home and take over with Nash, she'd find a reason not to. After a while, I got so fed up with the situation, I confronted her."

"You realized she was having an affair?"

"No. I just wanted to know why she couldn't make the effort to be home a little more… for Nash as much as for me. We had a huge fight, during which I asked her why it was taking so long to fix up Mitch's house. At the beginning, she'd told me it was a three-month project, but she'd been working there for over five months already. She hadn't mentioned any problems, and the more we talked – or fought – the less sense she made. In the end, I asked her outright if she was doing more than re-designing his house. To start with, she pretended to be hurt and insulted, and obviously she denied it, but I knew she was lying."

"How?" I ask.

He tilts his head, giving my question some thought. "I think when you've been with someone for as long as we had, you get to know things like that."

"So what happened?"

"Eventually she confessed, and I gave her an ultimatum. Me, or him."

"And she chose you." That's not a question. Aside from the answer being obvious, I can't see why any woman would choose another man over Tanner.

"She did. Once she realized I was serious, she promised she'd break things off with him the very next day, and that her meetings with him from then on would be purely professional."

"Did you believe her?"

"No, but what choice did I have? We had a child, and when it came down to it, I had to put him first."

"So you stayed?"

"Yeah," he says, sounding depressed.

"What was it like?"

"Horrendous."

"I presume she broke off her relationship with Mitch Bradshaw?"

"As far as I know. She certainly finished the work on his house."

"Did that help?"

"Not really. I still couldn't trust her. The atmosphere between us was dreadful, and sometimes I wondered if it was worth it."

"But you persevered?"

"Yes," he says. "Although nothing felt the same anymore. I suppose it didn't help that I sold the house we'd been living in since we were married, and moved us into the apartment above the bookstore."

"Was that a financial decision?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"It was my dumb attempt at a fresh start. Sabrina didn't see it that way, though. She saw it as a failure on my part, and even when I tried to explain that I wanted to put the past behind us, including the memories I associated with that house, she still couldn't see it. Her argument was that we could just move to another house, but I didn't see the point. The apartment had been empty since Mom had gone into the hospital, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to become cash rich and mortgage free for the first time in our lives."

"Can I assume she relented?"

"Let's just say she stopped arguing. She never let me forget it hadn't been her idea, or that she didn't like living in the apartment, but to my mind, we had a roof over our heads, and the security of the cash in the bank… plus we'd left our old life behind, and that felt like a win-win situation to me."

"I'm guessing that didn't last," I say, finishing my ravioli and pushing my plate aside. Tanner finished his a while ago, and he takes my hand in his again, which feels comforting… even more so than it did before.

"No. It was just after Nash's fifth birthday when she was contacted by a couple in Willmont Vale, who'd had a property constructed, and wanted Sabrina to design the interior. She took it on and then came and told me about it, which made me kinda mad. It was a vast project, which meant she'd be working long hours over several months, and I felt she should have discussed it with me first. She argued Nash was at school, so it wouldn't be too difficult, and while I couldn't disagree with that, things between the two of us were still kinda rocky, and I didn't like the idea of her being away so much."

"Because you didn't trust her?" I say and he sucks in a breath, frowning.

"I don't remember thinking that at the time. The way I put it to her was that it was gonna be hard to make things right between us if we weren't even in the same town. She disagreed. Naturally. But maybe, subconsciously, I didn't trust her. I couldn't. Not after she slept with Mitch."

"And you were right?"

He looks down at the table. "She was about four weeks into the project," he says, raising his head again, his eyes reflecting how painful this is. I want to tell him to stop, but part of me thinks he needs to tell the story, as much as I need to hear it. I need to understand him. "As I'd predicted, her hours were crazy, and she'd barely been at home. She kept assuring me everything was okay, and I wanted to believe her. Things still weren't right, but I knew they never would be if we didn't try. So, one Friday, I drove over to Willmont Vale, thinking I'd take her out to lunch somewhere. I found the house easily enough, although I remember feeling surprised by how quiet it was, and that there was no-one working on the site. Sabrina's car was there, though, so I assumed everyone else must have gone to lunch, and as the front door was open, I went inside… and found Sabrina in the newly constructed kitchen, having sex on the island unit with one of the contractors."

I can't help gasping, and Tanner seems to notice. He tightens his grip on my hand, and then brushes his thumb across my knuckles, making my skin tingle.

"W—What happened?" I ask.

"Nothing," he says. "At least not right then. They didn't notice me, and I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation with either of them, so I turned around and drove straight home again. I called the mom of one of Nash's friends and asked if she'd collect him from school for me. She agreed to take him back to her place, and then when Sabrina came home, I told her what I'd seen, and that I'd had enough, and wanted a divorce."

"How did she react?"

He opens his mouth to tell me, just as the waiter reappears and removes our plates. The interruption is annoying, although it can't be helped, and once he's gone again, we both lean forward, and Tanner offers me more wine, which I accept.

As he pours, he lets out a sigh. "She begged me to reconsider," he says.

"She didn't want your marriage to end, even though she'd cheated… twice?"

"I don't think it was that. I've never really understood why she made such a fuss over the divorce… not just before, but during and after, too. Like you say, she was the one who cheated, so it would have made more sense for her to want out. Except I guess Sabrina cared more about what people thought than I did. She knew our divorce would become public knowledge, and the subject of gossip, and I think her primary concern was that people in the town would find out what she'd done."

"Then maybe she shouldn't have done it," I say, and he smiles.

"That didn't occur to her. As far as she was concerned, I was the one being unreasonable and spoiling everything, and when I refused to give in to her pleas, she escalated things into a full-scale fight. I was relieved Nash wasn't there, because even though I stayed fairly calm, Sabrina was throwing things and screaming the place down."

"She was? Why? She was the one in the wrong."

"Hmm… and she didn't like the fact that she'd been caught… again. She was bitter and angry, and she wanted to lash out, and in doing so, she let slip that what I'd witnessed that afternoon wasn't a one-off. She and the guy she'd been with had been seeing each other for years, it seemed. His name was Reuben, and he'd worked with her on various projects."

"Going back how far?" I ask.

"I don't know. She wouldn't give me a straight answer. She also wouldn't tell me if it had just been him and Mitch, or if there had been others. I didn't like the sound of her silences, so I demanded a DNA test. I had to know if I was Nash's father… biologically speaking."

"What happened?"

"She didn't argue with me about that, which made me think he must be mine, because if there had been any doubt, she'd have put up a fight. I went ahead with the test anyway, and while I was waiting for the results, I slept on the couch, and she practically barricaded herself in our bedroom. There's no door, so she moved the furniture around, making sure I had to clamber over it to get up there. Of course, she also had to clamber over it to get down, but she didn't seem to care about that."

"It sounds awful."

"It was."

"Can I assume Nash is yours?" I ask.

"You can. Knowing that didn't change how I felt about him, but Sabrina took advantage of the situation and used the fact that I'd got the tests done as an excuse to deny me access to Nash when she left."

"She left?"

"Yes. The day after I got the test results. I think climbing over the furniture had lost its appeal."

I smile and he does too. "And she took your son with her?" I ask, my smile fading.

"She did."

"But she wouldn't let you see him?"

"Not at the beginning," he says, shaking his head. "She argued – or her lawyers did – that I couldn't have loved him if I didn't believe he was mine. My lawyer argued the DNA test had nothing to do with my love for Nash and everything to do with Sabrina's infidelity, and her refusal to answer straight questions."

"She obviously backed down in the end."

"She had no choice. She was just being vindictive."

"What right did she have to be vindictive? You did nothing wrong."

The waiter appears, carrying two dishes, which he puts in front of us, and we both take a breath, leaning back. We have to let go of each other's hands, and I, for one, wish we didn't. I feel like I can draw strength from Tanner, and maybe offer him some in return… but how can I do that when we're so far apart?

We nod our thanks to the waiter, who leaves without a word, and Tanner glances over at my dinner.

"That looks nice," he says.

"So does yours."

He smiles, cutting into his duck, while I slice my chicken. The sauce has a real citrus kick, which is lovely, and once I've swallowed it down, I sip my wine, which tastes a little different after all that lemon.

"Did your wife move in with that contractor?" I ask, taking another bite of chicken.

"No," Tanner says, with a wry smile. "Reuben wasn't interested in a relationship, especially not one where there was a child involved."

"So he disappeared?"

"Into thin air. She went to stay with a friend for a while, and then she found herself a house in Willmont Vale."

"Wait a second. If she lives in Willmont Vale, why does Nash go to school here?"

"He'd already started at school when Sabrina and I split up. One of the few things she and I agreed on was that it wouldn't be fair to move him when he was already going through so much upheaval."

I nod my head. That makes sense. "And she was earning enough to buy a house, was she?"

"No. She rightly claimed half the money we'd accrued from selling the house we'd lived in together."

"Was that enough?" I ask, sensing it wasn't, just from the look on his face.

"No. I had to give her some more, out of my share. It was either that, or she was gonna take out a mortgage for the balance."

"Why didn't you let her do that?"

"Because she was insisting I had to make the payments… in full. At least this way I don't have the overheads, and I know where I stand. Besides, providing for Nash has never been a problem. It's Sabrina lying her way through every angle of the divorce that bothers me. She earns way more than I do, but insists I have to pay for everything."

"Who divorced who?" I ask.

"I divorced her. But it took a lot longer than I thought, because despite her adultery, she challenged everything. She wanted everything, too… alimony, the shirt off my back, control over when I'd be allowed to see Nash. I wasn't gonna give in to every little demand just to please her, so it went back and forth between the lawyers, and wasn't finalized for over eighteen months. The court decided on access to Nash, which is every weekend, although the irony is that, having said I couldn't see him at all at the beginning, Sabrina now asks me to have him during the week sometimes as well. I don't mind that in the slightest. I'll take him as often as I can."

"You regret it, don't you? Not being able to see him every day, I mean?"

"Of course. He's my son. I should be there for him."

"Is that why you drop him off and pick him up from school?"

He shakes his head, putting down his knife and fork. "No. I already explained that. I came this morning because Sabrina asked me to, and having found you again, I made an excuse to come this afternoon, so I could ask you to have dinner with me. What alternatives did I have? It seemed a little time consuming to walk around town, hoping to bump into you again."

I giggle, leaning forward so I can gaze into his eyes. "Why did that happen, by the way? You said you weren't paying attention, but was there a reason for that?"

"Yeah. I'd just taken Nash back to his mom's and discovered Sabrina had moved her boyfriend in without telling me."

"She's seeing someone, is she?"

"She is. From what I can gather, her bedroom door has been revolving ever since we split up." I can't help laughing, and he shakes his head. "The problem is, she's only known this guy for a few weeks, and he's already taken up residence. I wasn't happy about that, and didn't hold back in letting her know. She accused me of being jealous, which I'm not."

"I'm glad to hear it," I say, and he smiles.

"I honestly don't care who she sleeps with anymore. What I care is about is the idea of this stranger living under the same roof as my son. If she'd told me about him, it'd be different, but she's gotta have everything her own way." I sit back a little and he frowns, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Zara. Sabrina has this effect on me. Shall we change the subject?"

I think that's probably wise. His story is heartbreaking and I feel sorry for him.

I also want to help him not to get so angry with the past, if I can… if he'll let me.

Comments

0 Comments
Best Newest

Contents
Settings
  • T
  • T
  • T
  • T
Font

Welcome to FullEpub

Create or log into your account to access terrific novels and protect your data

Don’t Have an account?
Click above to create an account.

lf you continue, you are agreeing to the
Terms Of Use and Privacy Policy.