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Maggie swallowed. “Dad’s already moved out. He has a room in college. We’ve been living apart for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Since the summer.”
Katie stared at her. “The summer? Oh my—” She choked on the words. “I can’t—”
“Katie—” Maggie stepped forward but Katie headed for the door.
“Don’t touch me. I need some air. Space. Time to think.” She was stammering. Stumbling.
Maggie felt as if her heart had been ripped in two. “Please, Katie—” But her daughter was already at the bottom of the steps and flying down the snowy track that led to the tree house as if she was being hunted.
Maggie whirled to Nick who was standing silently by the sofa, staring after his daughter. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you do something?”
“You heard her. She wants space. Best to let her have that space and then we can talk properly later.”
She wanted to blame him, but she knew that all the blame rested with her. She was the one who had insisted on waiting.
“This is all my fault. You wanted to tell them months ago.”
“And you wanted to wait.”
“And that was the wrong decision.”
“I don’t believe it was.” He shook his head. “The last few days have been the most fun we’ve had in years. We’ve talked more than we have in years. I feel as if I know you better than I have in years. I’m sorry Katie walked in when she did, but I’m not sorry for any of the rest of it.”
Everything he said was true. But what did that mean? What did it change?
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
She understood his confusion because she felt it, too. “It doesn’t even matter. All that matters is Katie.”
Frustration crossed his face. “Do you really think Katie is what matters here? What about us? We have to talk about us, Mags—”
“—and we will, but first we have to check on our daughter. I’m worried about her.” She grabbed her phone and called Katie’s number but predictably it went straight to voice mail. “I can’t focus on anything else until I know she’s okay, don’t you understand that?”
He was silent for a moment. “Yes,” he said. “I understand that.” His tone said that he understood it but didn’t like it, and his body language said the same thing as he clomped to the door and reached for his coat. His shoulders were slumped. He looked defeated, and she felt as if she was being tugged in two directions.
She felt a moment of loss, followed by panic. “Where are you going?”
“To find our daughter. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” He shrugged on his coat and reached for his scarf. While he wrestled with layers and wool, she wrestled with guilt and questioned her priorities.
“She’s probably gone back to the tree house to tell Rosie.” They all protected Rosie. And now Katie, her strong, determined, reliable Katie was hurting and alone. Of course they should put her needs first.
“Katie isn’t the sort to sob out her problems on someone’s shoulder. She never has been. And she’d want to protect Rosie. It’s what she does. It’s what she’s always done. My guess is that she’s gone for a walk to let off steam.”
They were talking about the girls, but she was thinking about him. About them. About their evening together. And now the closeness had gone, and she was the one who’d killed it. She badly wanted it back but it was like trying to gra
b handfuls of that steam he’d mentioned.
She felt numb. If Katie hadn’t walked in when she had, what would she and Nick be talking about now? Would the closeness, the intimacy, have continued?
Had there ever been an example of worse timing?
And what was he going to say to Katie when he found her?
