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Val’s eyes held an abiding sadness. “Julian, she’s married. ”
“I know,” he answered. “But what if I love her?”
The falling apart of a man’s life should make noise. It should startle passersby with its Sturm und Drang. It ought to sound like the Parthenon crashing down
. Not this ordinary, everyday kind of quiet.
His wife was in love with another man. There was simply no way around that; no matter how often he tried to push the thought away, it came creeping back.
Liam lay back in bed, staring up at the gauzy mosquito netting that canopied their bed. It was almost midnight, but he couldn’t sleep.
He couldn’t forget the images he’d seen on television tonight, or the quippy headlines that accompanied them.
True Love, after all these years.
Sleeping Beauty awakens to Prince Charming’s kiss.
Every program had had photographs of Kayla, all of them showing a young, vibrant woman who was clearly in love.
It was a woman he’d never seen. Until today—this second—he’d had this hope that he would catch a glimpse, however fleeting, of his wife. But all he’d seen was image after image of Kayla.
Now she was neither Kayla nor Mikaela. Without memories, she was a leaf, caught up in the swirling current of a dream, but soon she would land on earth. She would remember the fifteen years they’d spent together. He had to believe that.
But what then?
She would reach out for something solid, and the thing that would steady her, her anchor, would be her love for her children. That love was the cornerstone of her soul, and nothing—not even Julian—could separate her from Jacey and Bret.
When she came back to herself, Mike would put her kids’ needs first. She always had. She’d left Julian because of Jacey and she’d married Liam because of Bret.
In the end, she would stay married to Liam. Of this, he was certain. When push came to shove, she would again sacrifice her passion for her children’s welfare.
The realization brought no solace; instead it weighed him down.
Julian wasn’t a threat to their marriage; Liam knew that. It was Mikaela’s love for Julian that threatened everything. Before, Liam had been able to tell himself that she loved him enough. But now that he’d seen the way she looked at Julian …
He closed his eyes.
And still it was quiet, this falling apart of his life, as silent as the last beat of an old man’s heart. A quiet, echoing thud, and then … nothing.
Chapter Twenty-five
Mikaela dreamt she was in the big log house.
She could hear the child crying again, and this time she was more afraid. She climbed the stairs and crossed the empty porch. Beside her, a rocking chair squeaked and moved, pushed by unseen hands.
She grabbed the doorknob and twisted, swinging the door open so hard, it cracked against the interior wall.
“Hello?” Her voice was a reedy whisper, beaten by the heaviness of her breathing.
The crying came again, louder this time.
She felt along the wall; this time she knew there was a light switch there, and when her fingers brushed it, she cried out in relief. The lights came on—an overhead chandelier crafted of deer antlers that threw a soft, golden net across a deserted dining room table. She had a quick, flashing image of herself sitting at that table, at a certain chair; she heard a voice saying, So, kids, tell me about your day …
But there was no one there, just a trio of ghostly images, the sound of forks on china, the thump of a glass hitting the planked table.
“Where are you?” she called out.
The crying came again. She felt her way past the table, up the long, wide staircase made of split logs. It felt as if there were people behind her, a crowd whispering among themselves, pushing her deeper and deeper into the darkness above, but every time she spun around, she was alone. Only her own shadow snaked out behind her as she reached the second floor.
