AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Another small, graceful shrug. “Think about it this way. What do you have to lose if he won’t forgive you?”
My pride, my–I grasped around in my mind for what else would be stripped from me if I went to Julian and he turned me away. The idea made my stomach turn and nausea rise, but I was surprised to realize that was all. It would be horrible, and I might never get over it, but it couldn’t destroy me.
Not the way that never seeing him again–nevertrying–would destroy me.
Peace joined the feeling of warmth pressing in all around me. He wasn’t married. Hewaswho I thought he was. If I had a chance of getting him back, and all I had to risk was my pride, I would do it. Energy thrummed through my body, driving out the lethargy I’d felt earlier. I wanted to go right now. But first…
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked Darla, turning to meet her eyes. I wasn’t questioning the veracity of her words. I wasn’t even really questioning her motives. Something in the warmth and peace told me that they were pure. But I wanted to know where they had come from. What had stirred her to risk her husband’s wrath by salting the land where he’d sowed his poisonous seeds?
I thought she’d give me one last graceful shrug, a whisper of a kiss against my cheek, and say she had to get back to the party. And I think she wanted to, because for a minute, that slim shoulder lifted ever so slightly. Then she gave a small shake of her head as if to clear it and said, “I suppose I’m trying to right more than one wrong, Willow. What Fletcher did to your mother twenty-six years ago was wrong, and I let it happen.”
“You didn’t do anything though. You’ve been–” I stopped myself short of saying she’d been the kindest to me of any of them. I didn’t want to offend her by implying her children were jerks. “--so nice to me,” I finished.
“Nice to you, but hardly kind. I knew your mother struggled sometimes. I could have stepped in.”
“If you knew, Fletcher knew, and it was his responsibility.”
“Responsibility,” Darla echoed. “Yes, it was. I hope Julian Lewis takes his responsibilities more seriously.”
It was the first hint she’d given me that she knew I was pregnant. I looked at her sharply. I’d only told my mother and a couple close friends–none of whom would have told anyone else. And she couldn’t tell by looking at me,Icouldn’t even tell by looking at me.
“Fletcher has everyone he cares about followed now and then,” Darla explained, and I could tell that the strangeness of this had long worn off for her. “And everyone he doesn’t trust.”
I wasn’t sure which category I fell into for Fletcher. “And they saw me going into my obstetrician’s office?” I surmised. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Fletcher and Darla knowing before Julian, but I suppose I only had myself to blame. I could have told him the day I found out, but I’d let pride stand in my way. Pride and Fletcher’s lies.
For an instant, the warmth and peace that had settled around me like a cozy blanket shuddered. Anger wanted to creep in. Vengeance. But what had that gotten me so far?
“I have to go,” I said, the realization coming on me all at once.
“Of course you do.” Darla rose with me and led me down the back staircase. She took me to a side door so that we didn’t have to go past the parlor again. “Good luck, darling.”
I was in a hurry to get to my car, to get to Julian, but a few steps down the path, I felt compelled to turn around. She was still standing there in the doorway. Backlit, so I couldn’t see her expression, but I sensed she was smiling. “Thank you, Darla. For everything over the years, but especially for this.”
And then I turned away from my old life and began to run lightly down the path, buoyant with hope for the future.
32
JULIAN
By the time I pulled back into my driveway, I had driven all over town. Landon had procured me the addresses of Willow’s mom and two closest friends. I’d started at Willow’s apartment, then began working my way methodically down the list. Not finding her at any of them, I drove back to her apartment, then checked the wine bar where she used to work. I’d even driven past Fletcher’s monstrosity of a house, the peaks rising above the trees, but even if she was in there, there was no way I’d make it past the guard shack. And if she was in there, hobnobbing with dear old dad, she probably didn’t want me to make it past.
I was vibrating with frustration as I slammed my car door shut behind me. I’d set off with so much purpose, so much conviction. I’dknownI would find her. I’d practically felt her sitting beside me, guiding me. Instead, I’d taken myself on a goose chase. How the hell had I been so wrong?
Inside, I kicked my shoes off too hard and began the climb to the main level. Halfway up the stairs, I realized that someone was already up there. I stopped dead, listening to the soft but distinct movements. The refrigerator door being opened and then shut. Then the cabinet door. The louder notes of plates being pulled free and set on the counter. The softpopof a cork.
Either a burglar had decided to make dinner, or all this time, Willow had been here.
My heart pounded harder as I took the rest of the steps two at a time. Even though I knew it had to be Willow–she was the only person besides Dana who had the door code, it was still a shock to see her standing there in the kitchen, like this was any other night. Like it hadn’t been two weeks since I last saw her. Like everything wasn’t different.
Her head came up sharply, her eyes wide and startled like I was the intruder instead of her. “Hi,” she breathed when she saw me standing there.
Though I didn’t mean it to, my voice came out stiff and cold. “Hi yourself.”
She flinched. “I–I made dinner.”
I saw the takeout from my favorite Italian place sitting on the edge of the counter. She’d slid the to-go meals into the deep dinner plates. She’d poured one glass of wine. The other wine glass was filled with water. My eyes rested on it for a long time. So it was true. A strange combination of earth-shattering joy and fear fought a war in my chest. “I see,” I said, my voice still not my own. It was like I was borrowing a stranger’s vocal cords.
Looking unsure of what else to do, Willow picked up one of the dinner plates, stacked the next on her arm, and reached for the wine glasses. Though I’d seen her carry all this and more, effortlessly–her years as a waitress showing through–I stepped forward.
