Marriage To A Stranger. Kay David
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The whole trip had been a foolish idea; Lara wasn’t even sure why she’d agreed to go but she’d been so surprised when Conley had suggested a holiday, she’d said yes without thinking. Once there, they’d passed by the docks one evening on their way to dinner, and she’d caught an aching glimpse of the sailboats in the harbor. A long time ago, they’d promised each other they’d buy a boat and live on it someday. She’d even given Conley a compass when they’d barely had money enough for food.
The failed vacation had been awkward and uncomfortable; a heavy weight neither could carry by themselves.
She looked at Conley again. “You know how I’ve felt. Don’t tell me you’re surprised.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said stiffly, “but I would have thought there might be some discussion about it before…this.”
She felt a surge of disbelief. “When would that have happened, Conley?” She lifted her hands helplessly. “You’re never here. Would I have called you in Hong Kong and left a message? E-mailed you in Moscow? Paged you in Rio?” She paused, the awful quiet around them suffocating in its intensity. “It wouldn’t have mattered,” she finally said. “Even when you are here…you aren’t. You wouldn’t have heard me if I’d tried.”
Their gazes met. The connection was painful and sharp, a bitter moment of truth for which Lara wasn’t prepared. Regret immediately stabbed her. She didn’t love Conley anymore, but this look hurt more than she could have expected.
With his eyes still holding hers, Conley stood up unexpectedly. For a moment, it seemed as if he were going to come toward her, but all at once, coffee mug in hand, he turned abruptly. Too abruptly. He bumped the edge of the carved oak table with his thigh. Hot coffee splashed over the edge of the mug and down his tan wool slacks, staining the expensive fabric and obviously burning his leg.
He looked at the splotch then froze, his mouth an angry slash. Lara thought he would say something then, scream at her, yell maybe, react somehow. With her breath caught in her throat, she wished for once that he’d just let go.
A moment later, he did.
But it wasn’t what she expected.
Without a word of warning, he raised his arm and hurled his coffee mug into the sink. He’d been a pitcher in college. The mug landed in the drain with a crash, shattering into a thousand pieces.
His reaction was so out of character, so totally unexpected that Lara couldn’t help herself. She gasped and stumbled backward, but Conley didn’t appear to even notice. He tore out the back door and into the snowy morning. A few seconds later, the engine of his Suburban roared to life and a heartbeat after that he shot out the drive, the tires crunching, the big green vehicle a blur of movement as it passed the kitchen window.
Lara stared at the door, still vibrating from Conley’s departure. With everything she knew, she’d assumed he’d be relieved. Bewildered and confused, she lurched toward the threshold. She was halfway across the room when a shard sliced into her heel.
Pain raced up her leg and she cried out. Bending over, she reached down and pulled out the shard, a red stain spreading across the bottom of her sock as dark as the one on Conley’s slacks. She stared at the blood then blinked as the image began to waver. Covering her face with her sticky fingers, Lara moaned into her palms, the heartfelt sound of her sorrow filling the cold empty kitchen.
God, what had she done?
Even though she’d known she had to do it—to say the words that had been unspoken until now, to make the choice that Conley couldn’t—she’d taken an irreversible step. With the utterance of one little word—divorce—she’d put into motion wheels no one could stop. A knot of sick grief lodged deep in her throat. Her foot throbbed hotly, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.
CONLEY MANEUVERED the green Suburban down the side street with reckless speed. His mind wasn’t on his driving; it was back in the kitchen with Lara. All he could see were her beautiful hazel eyes, filled with agony and anguish. He’d been prepared for her words, but not for the level of pain they’d caused him.
The SUV slid slightly to the right, and Conley cursed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. The snow was thick, clouds of the white stuff shooting out from his tires to add to the drifts already in place. Driving in Red Feather could be difficult, but no one really minded. Snow made the place what it was—a wonderful ski resort that swelled with tourists in the winter season. The little town clung to the edge of the Rocky Mountains an hour north of Boulder and when the weather turned bitter, everyone who could came here, their skis strapped to their roofs, their minds on having fun.
Conley and Lara had met on the slopes but they had settled here for a much different reason than skiing. They’d needed their own space, away from Boulder, where Lara worked at Mesa Protection and Security, her father’s firm. She hadn’t wanted to be any closer to the office—or Ed—than was necessary during their time off, and Red Feather had offered the perfect getaway.
Or so they’d thought.
Cutting around another snow-covered corner, Conley reached the small lot outside his own office and parked, throwing the SUV out of gear with a jerky motion then killing the engine. For a few seconds, the sound of the huge motor echoed in the sudden silence, then the noise died out, leaving behind an emptiness that matched the one in Conley’s heart. He stared down the street at the sign in front of his office.
Harrison’s was all the sign said, but that was all that was necessary. Conley had started the firm after finishing college and now he had more than seventy-five employees. The company had grossed almost fifty million last year, the world-renowned computer chips they designed highly specialized and incredibly expensive. They helped run everything from the space station to mechanical hearts. But their very uniqueness was also their downfall. When someone had a question about a Harrison chip, Conley Harrison was the only person they could ask.
Big deal. Who in the hell cared? None of it really mattered to him anymore and it hadn’t for quite some time. His throat closed tightly as Conley thought about the effort and hard work he’d put into his business over the years. His only goal had been to make a good life for Lara.
And for himself, as well, he confessed silently. The faces of his always weary parents came to mind. They’d been sharecroppers in Kentucky, hardworking, plainspoken people who’d managed to raise five children in the midst of a poverty that belonged to another country, in another time. Despite their problems, they’d taught Conley and his four siblings a lesson Conley had learned well—providing for your family meant everything. You took care of them first and the rest followed.
He tried to live his life that way, but things hadn’t worked out like they should. He’d given Lara everything…but it hadn’t been enough.
A blowing gust of wind caught his attention, snow scratching over his windshield. If he didn’t leave the damn truck soon he might be stuck in it for good. He jumped out with his hand on his cell phone and hurried down the street, the wind cutting through his sweater as if it didn’t exist. He’d been stupid to leave the house without a coat, but staying warm hadn’t seemed important at the time. He’d only wanted to get away from Lara’s accusing stare and hurtful words.
He’d been waiting, holding his breath for months, it seemed, but when she’d finally said what he’d been expecting, the reality had shocked him. He’d wanted to grab her and force her to take back the request, shake her until the words no longer existed. But he couldn’t. She had every right to ask for a divorce and even though it felt as if she’d yanked his heart straight from his chest, he had to acknowledge her prerogative to do just that.
He hurried to the corner, then ducked his head and started across the street. The last few years had been tough ones, he’d be the first to admit, but the most recent couple of months had been even worse. Keeping her unaware of what was going on had been damn near impossible. It sounded crazy, even to him, but Conley could not let Lara find out about his problem. She handled situations similar to this all the time and for that very reason—as illogical as it