“What in the world am I supposed to do with him, Touchdown?” she asked, her stomach growing queasier with each chocolate.
Disgusted, she set the box aside. He was not getting to her—even though he already had. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the washing machine. Then she started chuckling to herself. What a greeting card she was: woman slumped on the floor of the laundry room with a dog, her mouth and hands stained with chocolate.
Over Your Ex Yet? It Doesn’t Get Any Better Than This.
And the girls were falling out of her robe! Again. She wondered if Blake had noticed her accidental peek-show. Then her chuckle turned into a full-on laugh. He was a guy. Of course, he’d noticed.
Pushing off the floor, she headed into the kitchen. She needed to talk this out with her two sisters. Moira and Caroline were driving up from Denver today for their standard Saturday lunch with her mom, her Hale cousins, and some additions by marriage.
Drive faster and come to my house first. I need to talk.
Moira responded.
Caroline is pressing the metal.
Pressing the metal? Colloquialisms had never been Moira’s thing.
Well, she needed to get dressed. But first she could at least get Touchdown some water. And give him a tour of the house. By the time her sisters arrived, her features were more composed. Sure, her stomach was still churning from her unplanned chocolate splurge, but she was dressed. Presentable.
The minute they walked through the door Touchdown scurried over to them, yipping with joy, and she knew the cat was out of the bag.
“Oh, you sweet boy,” Moira cooed, falling to her knees on the floor to receive kisses.
Caroline glanced around the room. “Blake’s here?”
“He paid the family next door to leave. We’re neighbors now.”
“Holy shit,” Caroline said, giving her a brief hug. “That poor guy. When I think about him losing Adam… What did he say?”
“Yeah. What did he say?” Moira said, standing with the beagle curled up in her arms.
She threw her hands out. “What do you think? He left football to win me back, and he’s sharing Touchdown with me until that happens.”
“It’s kinda romantic,” Moira murmured. “And sad. He must miss his brother terribly.”
“I know that…but even so, he can’t just move in next door. We’re divorced!” she said, hating the way her voice was rising in spite of her. Panic laced with a healthy dose of confusion.
Caroline walked over to Moira to pet Touchdown, and her sisters shared a look. Uh-oh.
“Natalie,” Moira said, putting Touchdown on the ground, “I’m sorry you’re so upset, and I wish I could say something to change that. But maybe you being upset is what this is all about. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. You need some kind of closure with him, and he obviously needs the same from you if you’re not going to be together anymore. Losing his brother probably made that clear to him.”
Her sister might as well have struck her with a baseball bat. “Look, I left Blake because he wouldn’t give me a baby. End of story. What happened with Adam doesn’t change that.”
Caroline worried her lip. “Blake came and talked to Mo and me a while ago…after you left him. He told us about the baby discussion.”
She put her hand back, felt empty space, and stepped back until she found something to hold onto. Anything. Her heart pounded in her chest, her ears. So, the ugliest lie she’d ever told had been revealed.
After Kim’s death, it had hurt too much to be around Blake, so she’d invented a plausible excuse to leave him—one she’d thought he would never be able to forgive, not in a million years. Otherwise he never would have let her leave to stew in her numbness alone. She’d picked a stupid fight about wanting a baby immediately, which he’d dismissed—as expected. As far as her family knew, it was the reason she’d left.
His words still echoed in her mind:
You’re damn right I won’t give you a baby right now. Not when you’re hurting over Kim and barely functioning. When we make a baby, it will be because we’re so excited we can’t see straight. Not out of grief.
She’d walked out on him the very next day, the horror of what she’d done burning in her belly. And it had all back-fired on her. Blake was able to forgive her anything, it seemed. It only made her feel more like the pond scum she was.
“You never said a word to me,” she choked out, her cheeks red with shame.
“You weren’t in much of a listening mood,” Moira said softly. “You were hurting. We all were. We didn’t…know how to help you and Blake.”
But she remembered her sisters asking if she was sure she wanted to divorce Blake. They’d even suggested marital counseling, which she’d refused out of hand.
“You’re on his side,” she said with a gasp of shock.