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“I made a mistake, honey. It’s not too late. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
“Are you crazy? It’s entirely too late, and I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Fine, we’ll stay here,” he compromised, but she wasn’t having any of it.
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“What’s going on out here?”
Vivian groaned and closed her eyes, rubbing the tension that had built between them. “Nothing, Nash. Just a discussion that is nowover.”
“Doesn’t look like nothin’,” he observed, and the screen door squealed as she stepped out onto the porch behind her. “Who are you?”
Andrew’s chin lifted, and his shoulders squared in Nash’s presence as if he felt the need to look bigger than he actually was. “I’m Andrew DeBois, and I’m here to collect my wife.”
“Wife?” Nash questioned, and Vivian could feel his eyes boring into the side of her skull.
“He’s lying. The utterings of a fool who refuses to let go of what’s already gone. Ignore him,” she ordered over her shoulder, then gritted out, “We’re done, Andrew. Go home. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
His expression hardened.
Nash stepped in again. “It seems we’re at an impasse and the lady would like you to leave.”
Andrew, always assertive and overly confident, pointed a finger at him. “I’ll go when I’m good and ready. She and I have things to discuss.”
Vivian opened her mouth to tell him where he could shove his discussion when Nash held out a bracing arm to keep her back. “Then get a phone and text it to her. Or better yet, write a letter, since you know where she’s staying. But at this moment, she’s asked you to leave, and now so am I. Need I remind you that you’re on private property?”
“I don’t care whose property I’m on—”
“The sheriff will be here in a minute,” Gretta announced, joining them.
Vivian groaned again, despite the cheering going on inside her head.Way to go, Gretta! She loved that she had two very competent people beside her, but she hated that either of them had to witness this part of her life. Drama was never in style, no matter where you hailed from.
“Look, Andrew, just go. We don’t have anything left to talk about.”
“I want you back,” he announced to all and sundry. When she stood unmoved, he added, “Your mom and dad are at home waiting, too.”
At the mention of her parents, Vivian felt a momentary pang of regret and sadness, a sense of longing for home and the comforts it offered.
But then she remembered that it had never been much of a comforting place. Her parents weren’t uncaring people, but they weren’t the warmest either. They might be concerned about her well-being, but it was nothing a quick phone call wouldn’t fix. What she was really longing for was familiarity.
“I’ll contact them later to let them know I’m fine.”
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Andrew tried again. He glanced down meaningfully at her suitcase. “If you come with me now, we can fix this. Put the whole thing behind us and move forward. You wouldn’t have to live like…this anymore,” he said, wrinkling his nose up at the house.
Sure, it wasn’t the lap of luxury he was used to living in, but Vivian had long since shrugged off the shock of rural life and was finding it more suitable to her sensibilities than that stuffy museum Andrew called a home.
Behind her, Gretta snorted and uttered a few choice words that weren’t at all becoming of a woman her age but that Vivian knew were par for the course. Gretta had a sailor’s mouth. She just used it quietly so only those nearby knew how dirty it could get.
“I like it here,” she informed Andrew, refusing to buy into the offer he presented. That he thought she was as stuck up and materialistic as he was, was…well…
It may have been true once, but it had never been the real her. Vivian enjoyed fine things, but she wasn’t beholden to them or that type of lifestyle. At least, not anymore.
The quickness and ease with which she’d adapted made her hope that she was at least marginally better than the man who stood before her with his nose stuck in the air. And if she wasn’t? Well, then she was standing witness to everything she didn’t want to be any longer.
“Looks like you’re headed out?” Andrew observed, a challenge in his voice.
Vivian looked down at the suitcase and then guiltily up at Nash. His stoic expression offered nothing in return.
