Three Sisters. Сьюзен Мэллери
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got out of his car and looked at her across the roof. He was still in his blue suit, although he’d changed his shirt and tie. Buoyed by the righteousness of her position, she opened her door.
“Hello, Deanna.”
Hello? Not “I’m sorry”? She pressed her lips together and nodded, then led the way to a bench on the grass. She sat on the side with a view of the sound. It would give her something to stare at as he groveled.
He sat across from her. His blue gaze settled on her face. She waited, prepared for the explanation, the apologies. She hoped to see a little fear in his eyes. No, she thought grimly. A lot of fear.
But it wasn’t there. If anything, he looked as he always did. Tired from his trip, of course. If she had to pick a second emotion, it would be resignation. She would almost say he looked determined, but that didn’t make sense.
He nodded at the folders she held. “You came prepared.”
“I did.”
He leaned toward her, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m not having an affair. I’ve never had an affair.”
“I saw the picture.”
“You saw a picture.”
She drew back and squared her shoulders. “If you’re going to play word games, we’re not having this conversation.”
“I’m saying you saw a picture of me with a coworker. The whole office was celebrating. Val had just gotten engaged. A few weeks ago, her boyfriend was acting strange. She thought he was trying to end things, but I told her to hang in there. It turns out he was preparing a romantic weekend away so he could propose. The picture is her thanking me.”
“With a kiss?”
“On the cheek, Deanna. She’s a kid. I’m not cheating.”
She saw the truth in his eyes. Colin had never been much of a liar. A good quality in a husband, she thought, as relief replaced fear. The folders she held suddenly felt heavy and obvious.
“You could have said something,” she murmured, aware she owed him an apology.
“So could you.” He straightened and studied her. “I’m sorry you think I’m the kind of man who would cheat on you.”
“I didn’t know what else it could be,” she admitted, uncomfortable being in the wrong. “Your work life is separate from us. You were kissing another woman and you’re gone all the time.”
“Your misinterpretation isn’t my responsibility,” he told her.
“I know.”
She was an idiot, she thought. She had to explain and admit fault. It’s how these things went. “I just...” The words stuck in her throat.
“No,” Colin said suddenly when she didn’t continue. He stared at her. “No, that’s not good enough.”
“What?”
“You not apologizing. Again.”
She stiffened. “Colin!”
“I’m sick of it. Of you, of us. I’m not happy with our marriage. I haven’t been for a long time.”
She blinked, the words hitting her directly in the chest. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.
His expression tightened. “I’m tired, Deanna. I’m tired of dealing with you. You don’t care about me or our relationship. I’m not sure you care about anything except getting your way and how things look to other people. You sure as hell don’t seem to want me around. You want my paycheck and then you want me to get out of your way.”
Heat burned on her cheeks even as fear froze her chest and made it impossible to breathe.
“You think I don’t notice how impatient you are with me every time I try to do something with the girls? You make all of us feel like unwelcome visitors in our own home. Nothing is good enough for you. We certainly aren’t. You’re constantly riding the girls and you can’t stay off my ass. The house is your domain and you make it damn clear I’m not welcome there.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, battered by the unexpected attack. “None of that is true.”
“Really? You actually believe that? Then we have a bigger problem than I thought.” He was quiet for a moment. “I thought it would get better. That you’d see what you were doing. But you haven’t and you won’t. Maybe I’ve been afraid of the consequences, I don’t know. Regardless, I’m done waiting.”
He stood and looked down at her. “I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of information in your folders there, Deanna. I don’t know if you planned to try to scare the crap out of me or tell me to get out. So my bottom line won’t have the same details as yours, but here goes anyway. I want a real marriage. I want to feel like I’m welcome in my own home. I’m tired of you calling all the shots and treating our daughters like they’re dogs to be housebroken rather than children to be nurtured. Things are going to change, starting now, or our marriage is over.”
He might have said more. She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was cold and couldn’t breathe and her stomach hurt. She tried to stand and couldn’t. The folders fell onto the ground. Papers scattered everywhere.
He was wrong. He was wrong! The words repeated over and over again. Wrong and cruel. She hated him, hated this.
She managed to stand. Once she’d stepped out from the bench, she turned to tell him that, but he was already gone, his car driving away. She watched him disappear around a curve, and then she was alone.
* * *
Boston plunged her hands into the cool soil and moved her fingers through the loose dirt. Seedlings lined up beside her, delicate wisps that would grow into sturdy plants. While she planted most of her garden directly with seeds, the past few years she’d been experimenting with starting a few vegetables as seedlings. Zeke had built her a small greenhouse just for that purpose. Last year she’d had success with her tomatoes. This year she was adding broccoli and cabbage to the mix.
She reached for the first plant, then sat back on her heels when she heard a truck pull into the driveway. Not her husband, she thought. Her brother-in-law, Wade. Most likely here to plead Zeke’s case. Once a big brother, always a big brother. Wade could no more help himself from stepping between Zeke and trouble than he could change his eye color or height.
She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged on the grass and waited. About thirty seconds later, Wade walked around the corner of the house and spotted her.
“I figured you’d be in your garden,” he said as he approached.
Boston stared up at him. The brothers were around the same height, six-two, with dark hair and eyes. They were strong, easygoing and loyal to a fault. They were also driven by demons neither would admit to and shared a passion for sports that she had never understood. All she knew was that she held a small private celebration every year when football season was finally over.
Wade settled next to her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had on jeans and worn work boots, a plaid shirt. No jacket. The King brothers were tough and barely bothered with any kind of outerwear until it hit near freezing.
She’d known Wade nearly as long as she’d known his brother. If she remembered correctly, Zeke had taken her home to meet his family after their second date. Over salad and spaghetti he’d announced he was going to marry her one day. She had to give his parents credit. Neither had blinked at the statement. Probably because they’d assumed that young love didn’t have much of a shelf life.
“He thinks you’re pissed,” Wade said, his tone conversational.
“Shouldn’t he be having this conversation with me?” she asked.
“You know Zeke hates confrontation.”