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Julianne wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem like the best idea. And yet, she wasn’t quite ready to give it up. Last night had been...amazing. Eleven years in the making and worth the wait. It made her angry. It was bad enough that Tommy had attacked her and she had the shadow of his death on her conscience. But the impact had been so long-lasting. What if her wedding night with Heath had gone the way it should have? What if they’d been able to come home and tell their parents and be together? She felt like even long after he was dead, Tommy had taken not only her innocence, but also her future and happiness with Heath.
Back in college when her mind went down into this dark spiral, her therapist would tell her she couldn’t change the past. All she could do was guide her future. There was no sense dwelling on what had happened. “Accept, acknowledge and grow” was her therapist’s motto.
Applied to this instance, she had to accept that she’d had sex with Heath. She acknowledged that it was amazing. To grow, she needed to decide if she wanted to do it again and what the consequences would be. Why did there have to be negative consequences? It was just sex, right? They could do it twice or twenty times, but if she kept that in perspective, things would be fine. It didn’t mean anything, at least not to her. Since he had signed the divorce papers first, she’d have to assume he felt the same way.
In fact... Julianne reached for the divorce decree and the pen lying there. She turned back to the flagged page and the blank line for her signature. With only a moment’s hesitation, she put her pen to the paper and scrawled her signature beside his.
“See?” she said aloud to the empty room. “It didn’t mean anything.”
There. It was done. All she had to do was drop it back in the mail to her lawyer. She shoved the paperwork back in the envelope and set it aside. For a moment, there was the euphoria of having the weight of their marriage lifted from her shoulders. It didn’t last long, however. It was quickly followed by the sinking feeling of failure in her stomach.
With a groan, she pushed away her coffee. She needed to get out of the bunkhouse. Running a few errands would help clear her mind. She could stop by the post office and mail the paperwork, pick up a few things at the store and go by the hospital to see Dad. Her kiln wouldn’t be delivered until later in the afternoon, so why not? Sitting around waiting for Heath to wake up felt odd. There was no reason to make last night seem more important than it was. She would treat it like any other hookup.
She found it was a surprisingly sunny and warm day for early October. That wouldn’t last. The autumn leaves on the trees were past their prime and would drop to the ground dead before long. They’d have their first snow within a few weeks, she was certain.
She took advantage of the weather, putting the top down on her convertible. There would still be a cold sting to her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She wanted the wind in her hair. Pulling out of the drive, she headed west for the hospital. With all the work on her studio, she hadn’t been to see her father for a couple days. Now was a good time. Molly’s car was at the house, so Dad was alone and they could chat without other people around. Even though her father didn’t—and couldn’t—know the details of what was bothering her, he had a calming effect on her that would help.
She checked in at the desk to see what room he was in now that he was out of intensive care, and then headed up to the fourth floor. Ken was sitting up when she arrived, watching television and poking at his food tray with dismay.
“Morning, Dad.”
A smile immediately lit his face. He was a little thinner and he looked tired, but his color was better and they’d taken him off most of the monitors. “Morning, June-bug. You didn’t happen to bring me a sausage biscuit, did you?”
Julianne gave him a gentle hug and sat down at the foot of his bed. “Dad, you just had open-heart surgery. A sausage biscuit? Really?”
“Well...” He shrugged, poking at his food again. “It’s better than this stuff. I don’t even know what this is.”
Julianne leaned over his tray. “It looks like scrambled egg whites, oatmeal, cantaloupe and dry toast.”
“It all tastes like wallpaper paste to me. No salt, no sugar, no fat, no flavor. Why did they bother saving me, really?”
Julianne frowned. “You may not like it, but you’ve got to eat healthier. You promised me you’d live to at least ninety and I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain.”
Ken sighed and put a bite of oatmeal in his mouth with a grimace. “I’m only doing this for your sake.”
“When do you get to come home? I’m sure Mom’s version of healthy food will be better tasting.”
“Tomorrow, thank goodness. I’m so relieved to skip the rehab facility. You and I both know it’s really a nursing home. I might be near death, but I’m not ready for that, yet.”
“I’m glad. I didn’t want you there, either.”
“Your mother says that you and Heath are both staying in the bunkhouse.”
“Yes,” she said with a curt nod. She didn’t dare elaborate. The only person who could read her better than Heath was her dad. He would pick up on something pretty easily.
“How’s that going? You two haven’t spent that much time together in a long while. You were inseparable as kids.”
Julianne shrugged. “It’s been fine.” She picked up the plastic pitcher of ice water and poured herself a glass. Driving with the top down always made her thirsty. “I think we’re both getting a feel for one another again.”
“You know,” he said, putting his spoon back down on his tray, “I always thought you two might end up together.”
The water in her mouth shot into different directions as she sputtered, some going into her lungs, some threatening to shoot out her nose. She set the cup down, coughing furiously for a few moments until her eyes were teary and her face was red.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Went down the wrong way,” she whispered between coughs. “I’m fine. Sorry. What, uh...what makes you say something like that?”
“I don’t know. You two always seemed to complemen
