When Lightning Strikes (Whiskey Creek #1)(84)
Author: Brenda Novak

“I’m listening.” He was prepared to hear the worst. Instead, she came to stand in front of him, kissed him tenderly and said, “I’ve never loved a man so much. I hope you’re always happy.”

Completely taken off guard, he blinked in surprise. He almost pulled her into his arms so he could feel her body against his one more time, just in case she was right and everything changed after this moment. But she didn’t give him the chance. With a parting smile, she crossed to the other bedroom and closed the door.

And then the limo arrived.

29

The house felt odd without Simon, probably because he’d been such a part of it. With the amount of work he’d been putting in and his excitement over the improvements, not to mention the time they’d spent here making love or simply sleeping together, it had begun to seem like a home. Their home. Their marriage had begun to feel real, too. But it had all ended even quicker than Gail had anticipated. He’d abstained from alcohol and behaved perfectly since they’d made their agreement, only to be drawn back to Los Angeles by Bella, the one variable Gail hadn’t expected to play the part it did. She’d thought they’d have to battle tooth and nail to get Bella to let Simon see Ty. The restraining order had convinced her of it. Now she felt as if she’d been leaning hard on a door that had suddenly opened.

She should’ve known better than to rely on anything she’d been feeling since marrying Simon, especially the happiness and false sense of security that enveloped her while living in her hometown. She hadn’t trusted it. Not really. And yet she’d embraced it—eagerly. Once she learned about Bella and Tex she should’ve realized that Bella had been manipulating Simon all along and would continue to do so—and that he would never be able to resist a friendly offer from her. After all, Bella had the one thing Simon cared about most. Ty trumped every other consideration.

Hugging her pillow close, Gail rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut. She’d known she’d face this day sooner or later. There was no point in feeling sorry for herself. But all the self-talk in the world couldn’t ease the ache in her chest.

Maybe if she got out of 811 Autumn Lane, she’d recover faster, revert to her old in-charge, able-to-handle-anything self. If she returned to her father’s place, she’d have to tell him and her brother that Simon had left her, but she’d have to do that fairly soon, anyway. Might as well get it over with.

She kicked off the covers and got up, then pulled on an old sweatshirt of Simon’s. But before she could reach the hall the doorbell rang.

For a moment, she hoped it was Simon. He’d only been gone an hour. He could’ve come back. But she knew in her heart he wouldn’t, not when he couldn’t wait to see his son.

So who could be visiting at ten-thirty?

She wiped her face on her sleeve and padded out to the living room barefoot. He’d turned off the lights and locked up, but he’d replaced the burned-out porch light and left that on. Nice of him to be so considerate, she thought sarcastically, and pushed the sheet covering the front window to one side.

It was Sophia, pretty much the last person in the world she wanted to see. Wasn’t dinner enough?

Gail almost didn’t open the door. She wasn’t sure she could put a smile on her face and pretend, as she’d done through dessert and an hour or so of small talk at Sophia’s house earlier, that everything in her life was A-OK. But she also couldn’t leave Sophia standing on the porch when the Lexus was parked out front, giving away the fact that someone was home. She couldn’t have done that to anybody she knew, especially in Whiskey Creek.

Hoping the woman she’d once disliked immensely, and for good reason, wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying, she opened the door.

“Hi.” Contrary to what Gail had believed possible, she managed another of the fake smiles she’d been conjuring up all evening.

Sophia didn’t immediately respond. She shoved her hands in the pockets of the lightweight jacket she was wearing and studied Gail carefully.

Growing uncomfortable, Gail cleared her throat. “What brings you out so late, Sophia?”

“Alexa forgot her toothbrush so I took it over to her.”

“And that brought you here because…”

“I saw a limo pass by.” She paused as if she expected Gail to say something, but Gail couldn’t bring any words to her mouth. Initially, she’d been tempted to whisper, as though Simon was still in the house and she didn’t want to wake him, but now she was glad she hadn’t. Getting caught in such a pretense would’ve been even more embarrassing than acknowledging the sad reality.

“It was Simon, wasn’t it?” she said. “He’s leaving town.”

Of all people to be the first to know. Would Sophia gloat? She would have when they were in high school. Gail wasn’t even sure she could complain if Sophia did. She’d been slow to respond to Sophia’s attempts at friendship, and she’d been less than wise to take the risks she had. “Yes.”

“I thought so. I heard him call for a car after he spoke with… I’m guessing that was his ex-wife?”

“Yes.” Although Gail wasn’t thrilled to see Sophia put the pieces together so perfectly, she didn’t see any point in trying to present the facts in any different way. As much as she and Simon had tried to pretend that nothing had changed, Sophia had watched him make his decision from a front-row seat.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I appreciate that. So you came because…”

“I was worried that maybe you were having a hard time. I know you don’t consider me a close friend, but I didn’t want you to be alone if…if you needed someone.” She shifted, obviously feeling awkward, but soldiered on. “I’m sure what you’re going through can’t be easy. I can tell that you love him very much.”

Gail wished she could deny it. She wanted to say it was fine, that she’d known she was taking a chance when she married him and had been prepared for the worst—something that would salvage a bit of her pride. It was fun while it lasted. But Simon’s defection was too new, her emotions too raw. She couldn’t seem to raise her defenses.

So she didn’t try. The redness of her face had probably given her away. “You’re right,” she said. “I do love him, more than I ever thought I could love someone. And it hurts like hell that he’s gone.” How was that for full disclosure? She figured she might as well give Sophia what she’d come for. The “mean girl” from high school could gloat if she wanted to.