by Pamela Clare
Lissy’s mother gaped at him. Then her face turned to stone, her voice to ice. “At least have the decency to call me a cab.”
Will met her frigid gaze with steel. “My pleasure.”
Lissy watched through the guest room window as the cab wound its way between orange cones and disappeared around the corner. Tears she didn’t want to cry ran warm down her cheeks, her mind a riot of conflicting emotion. She heard the soft tread of feet on carpet and felt Will’s hands against her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, sugar. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”
“Or for you.” She wiped her tears away. “I really feel sorry for her, Will.”
“She’s to blame for her own situation. No one forced her to marry your father or to stay with him. She made those choices herself.”
I’m sorry for whatever it was that made you such a heartless, miserable human being. But I’m done tolerating your poison in our home. Pack your things, and get out!
She heard Will’s voice in her mind, saw the anger and hurt on her mother’s face. “I wish you hadn’t been so hard on her.”
“Hard on her?” Will stepped back, ran a hand through his hair, shook his head. “God, Lissy! How many men would tolerate half as much as I did? I think I went pretty easy on her, considering what I heard her say. I don’t care if she doesn’t like me, but I won’t have her standing in our kitchen, upsetting you and accusing me of fucking around on the wife I haven’t married yet! I’m not that kind of man!”
She heard the rage in his voice, beneath it the hurt. “I know that, Will. You don’t have to tell me that.”
“I think maybe I do. That’s what all this is about. Be honest, Lissy. You didn’t decide to stop having sex until after the wedding for the sake of romance. You did it because some part of you doubts us—doubts me!”
Lissy felt the heat of anger rush to her face. “That’s not true! But isn’t it interesting that going two weeks without sex is such an issue for you that we end up fighting about it?”
“That’s not why we’re arguing, and you damned well know it! Don’t try to turn this around.” His gaze went cold, and she could tell he was truly angry with her now. “It’s not the bet that bothers me—it’s your lack of faith.”
His words felt like a slap in the face, perhaps because some part of her knew she deserved them. But she was too overwhelmed, her emotions too raw, to think it through just now. “I defended you! I stood by you when you told her to leave. Why would I do that if I didn’t trust you?”
Then, a sob caught in her throat, she ran to their bedroom and shut the door behind her.
Keys jingled, and Lissy’s heart sank as she heard Will walk out the front door and lock it behind him.
Lissy woke to find she’d slept in their bed alone. She sat bolt upright, suddenly alarmed. She’d sat up waiting for him until after midnight and then had gone to bed furious. But what if something had happened to him?
Then she heard the rasp of the coffee grinder.
Will was home, but he had chosen not to sleep beside her.
The realization left her feeling almost sick. She fought the urge to dash into the kitchen to confront him or to beg for his forgiveness, instead slipping into a hot shower. When she entered the kitchen a half hour later, she found him reading the papers.
He looked up from the page, dark circles beneath his eyes. “Morning.”
She stood there, looking at him, wanting so much to tell him she was sorry, wanting to shout at him for leaving her alone all night. “Morning.”
They didn’t talk about it at breakfast. They didn’t talk about it in the car on the way to lunch with the wedding planner. They didn’t talk about it while they waited for everyone to show up for the wedding rehearsal. And although the rehearsal went as smoothly as Lissy could possibly have hoped—her mother attended and didn’t complain once—Lissy knew all was not as it should be.
Will was sweet and attentive, standing with his arm around her shoulders, rubbing his thumb over the bare skin of her arm, kissing her on the cheek now and again, but there was a remoteness to his affection that made the lingering pain of their argument even harder to bear. Still, it was the evening before her wedding, and Lissy was determined at least to seem as if she were having the time of her life. So she kept a smile on her face, laughed at people’s jokes, chatted cheerily with friends and guests.
Rather than a formal rehearsal dinner in a restaurant, Lissy and Will had opted to have a catered buffet in the park near their condo. They’d wanted their friends to be able to bring their kids and to dress comfortably, strictly weekend casual, though Lissy had opted for a sleeveless dress of black linen and sandals. They’d all get their fill of being dressed up and formal at the wedding and reception tomorrow.
A big white tent had been set up to shelter the food and tables in case a late-afternoon thunderstorm rolled in over the mountains, as so often happened during the summer. But the sky was clear, and as their guests finished eating, they spread through the park to enjoy themselves, just as Lissy had hoped they would.
Kara’s husband, Reece, was playing soccer with their son, Connor, while Kara bounced Caitlyn, their eleven-month-old baby, on her lap and talked with Lissy’s mother about the trials of being a senator’s wife. The groomsmen and ushers were trying their luck with a Frisbee and discovering why they preferred football. Tessa and Sophie were lost in a discussion about some investigation they were working on. Devon and Holly were…all over each other.
Lissy looked up at Will, expecting to share a laugh with him, only to find herself looking at his back as he walked away. He was still angry with her. They were about to be married, and they weren’t even speaking.
A bleakness Lissy had never known crept into her belly. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She stood, suddenly needing to think, needing be alone. Knowing her mother would see beyond whatever lie she concocted, she threaded her way among the tables toward Tessa and Sophie.
“I’ve got a really nasty headache,” she told them. “I’m going home for a while.”
Then, before they could ask too many questions, she hurried out of the park toward the condo, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Will tossed the ball gently to Connor, saw a smile of surprise cross the boy’s face when he caught it. “That’s the way. Hug it tight, and run for the end zone.”
The child ran as fast as he could on six-year-old legs toward the two trees that marked the end zone, through a gauntlet of former football players who couldn’t seem to catch him.
“Whoa! Touchdown!” Devon shouted. “High five, little man! Now spike the ball!”
Will stepped out of the game and strode toward the keg, pretending to want another beer when what he really wanted was to be alone with Lissy. He’d spent all day trying to ward off his growing sense of guilt, trying not to notice the shadows in Lissy’s eyes or the way she kept looking to him for some kind of reassurance.
But there was no way around it. He’d been an ass. He’d known Lissy was upset, but still he’d forced the issue, trying to make his point.
That’s what all this is about. Be honest, Lissy. You didn’t decide to stop having sex until after the wedding for the sake of romance. You did it because some part of you doubts us—doubts me!
She’d reacted as if he’d hit her.
I defended you! I stood by you when you told her to leave. Why would I do that if I didn’t trust you?
And she had. She’d stood up to her mother for him, and she’d stood beside him when he’d kicked her mother out. She’d shown him respect, something she’d surely never seen her parents give one another, something her parents had only rarely shown her.
A voice in his mind started offering excuses. He’d only told her the truth, after all. How could he be blamed for that?
Because you hurt her, you fricking idiot!
He’d been so angry with her mother, every inch of him burning with frustration after four days of putting up with insults and in
nuendo. And he’d taken it out on Lissy, first by ramming his point of view down her throat, then by leaving her alone most of the night while he’d sulked and watched ESPN at a damned sports bar.
He felt a surge of regret, looked about the park for her. He needed to talk to her. He needed to apologize. Tomorrow was their wedding day. It was time to set things right.
The sun was squatting fat and orange atop the purple silhouette of the mountains, stretching long shadows across the grass. But he didn’t see Lissy anywhere.
He walked up to Kara, ignoring Lissy’s mother. “Have you seen Lissy?”
“I think she went home,” Mrs. Charteris answered.
Kara adjusted the sleeping baby in her lap. “She told Tessa she had a headache.”
“Thanks.”
He could see city utility trucks parked at the edges of the Cone Zone, their yellow work lights flashing. They were working late. He was halfway down the block when he smelled it—just the faintest whiff.
Gas.
It happened as if in slow motion. A deafening blast. A rush of heat. An eruption of orange flame. Their condo exploded, spewing fire and knocking Will to the ground.
He stared for a moment in utter shock, then leapt to his feet.
“Lissy!” His heart beat like a sledgehammer in his chest. “No!”
Then he was running toward the blaze, oblivious to the heat, to the pain in his knee, to the cries of friends in the park behind him. He had to get to Lissy.
Lissy slipped the key into the lock and opened the heavy oak door. She’d been halfway back to the condo when she’d found her feet carrying her instead down the bike path to their new house. She needed to feel the future, to feel hope, to feel the life she was about to enter surrounding her.
She stepped inside, smelled the mingled scents of floor polish, new paint and moving boxes. She walked slowly through the rooms.
Here was the living room with its gleaming wood floor where they would put up their Christmas tree. They’d talked about how it would sit in front of the big bay window, where everyone could see it and feel its cheer. Here was the dining room, where they’d teach their kids to hold their forks properly and not to talk with their mouths full. Here was the kitchen, the pantry, the laundry room.
She climbed the wide staircase, her hand trailing over the polished wooden banister Will had so painstakingly restored, then walked around boxes toward the three smaller bedrooms. One day children would sleep here. Boys? Girls? She’d be happy with either. Or both.
She wandered from room to room, until she found herself standing in the master bedroom. It faced the front of the house, a wide window opening onto the branches of the cottonwood tree outside. Dappled light filtered through the leaves onto the wood floor around her feet, bringing with it a sense of contentment.
She turned, faced the empty space where their bed would go, imagined the nights—and mornings and afternoons—they would spend together there. It was there their children would be conceived. They’d already made love on the floor in that spot just to break it in—or to sanctify it, as Will liked to say. As if just by having sex they could make things pure, clean, holy.
That’s certainly how it felt. Sex with him was like nothing she’d ever known before. She supposed it was because she loved him—with everything she had, she loved him.
Would it be enough?
The very walls around her seemed to wait for the answer to that question.
Her mother and father had never loved each other, not really. They’d turned marriage into misery, not only for them but for Lissy, too. How many nights had she fallen asleep to the sound of her mother’s crying and her father’s shouting?
That wasn’t the kind of marriage Lissy wanted.
Be honest, Lissy. You didn’t decide to stop having sex until after the wedding for the sake of romance. You did it because some part of you doubts us—doubts me!
The sharp edge of regret pressed in on her.
Will was right. The bet had nothing to do with romance. It was about fear. Fear that somehow she wouldn’t be enough to keep Will for a lifetime. Fear that his love would wear away with time. Fear that she’d find herself bitter and old and alone.
I’m not that kind of man!
She heard the desperation in his voice, saw the plea in his eyes, and the weight of her regret doubled. She owed him an apology—for not trusting him, for not being willing to face the truth inside herself, for putting them both through two weeks of unmitigated horniness. She’d just turned toward the stairs, eager to return to the park, when she heard it: an explosion.
She whirled toward the window, glimpsed smoke and the orange glow of fire.
The fire was a few blocks west. Near their condo.
She ran for the stairs.
Will stood by the fire engine, his gaze on the burning condo, an anguished cry stuck in his throat where it had died along with the rest of him the moment he’d realized he wasn’t going to be able to reach her.
Lissy, oh, God, Lissy!
The fire had been hot, too damned hot. Though his mind and heart had been willing, his body had not. The heat had driven him back, even as he’d told his feet to move forward. The city utility crew had done the rest, tackling him, then dragging him off to a safe distance until the fire crews arrived.
“You crazy son of a bitch! Tryin’ to get yourself killed?”
“My fiancée is in there!” he’d shouted at them.
“Not anymore, she ain’t.”
Will might have beaten the man’s face in if his words hadn’t driven the air from Will’s lungs, sapping him of everything but grief and regret.
He wasn’t sure why he was still standing, how he managed to say “thank you” when a fireman handed him a plastic cup of water, why he didn’t simply collapse on the ground. He’d felt this bleak only once before—on the day his mother had died. No, that had been different. He’d had months to prepare himself, months to know in his mind, if not in his heart, that the woman who’d sacrificed everything out of love for him was dying.
Nothing could have prepared him to lose Lissy.
Lissy ran down the creek path, the sound of sirens echoing off the houses and apartment buildings around her. She could see her friends gathered at the edge of park, watching the fire. She knew before she reached them that the condo was gone.
“Lissy!” She heard Holly shout, saw a sea of tear-streaked faces turn her way.
Then she was surrounded, being hugged by one person after the next, until her mother pulled her close and wouldn’t let go.
“I thought…I thought you…” Her mother wept softly against her shoulder, bringing tears to Lissy’s eyes. “Oh, God, Lissy!”
They’d thought she’d gone to the condo, Lissy realized. They’d thought she’d been caught in the fire. They’d thought—
It slammed into her with the force of a fist.
“Where’s Will?”
“Oh, no! No, no!” Her mother stepped back, pressed her hands to her face. “He went looking for you, Lissy. We all thought you’d gone home and…”
“I-I went to the house. I…” Lissy looked toward the condo, saw flames rolling against the sky, saw the winking lights of fire trucks and police cars. “Will?”
The ground seemed to roll beneath her feet. She felt strong arms encircle her waist, heard Reece’s voice in her ear. “Easy, Lissy. Come sit down.”
“He can’t be dead.” She said it as Reece led her to a chair. She said it when Devon put his hand on her shoulder. She said it when Holly sat down beside her and took her hand.
Then she saw a potbellied cop making his way toward them. “Are you the folks who reported the man and woman missing in the fire?”
Reece stepped forward, gestured toward Lissy. “We found the woman, officer, but her fiancé is still missing. We’re afraid he was in the building.”
The cop nodded, his expression grave, and reached for the radio clipped to his shoulder.
Lissy only half-liste
ned as the officer spoke to dispatch, her mind colliding against the terrible possibility that Will had been badly burned or perhaps even killed going after her. If only she had stayed. If only she had spoken with him earlier. If only…
The cop was speaking to her. “They’d gotten a report of a gas leak before the explosion and had evacuated the building. While it’s possible he got past someone, the city people are telling me the building was empty when it blew.”
Hope.
Lissy stood, her pulse racing. She was about to ask the officer if he would please, please look for Will, when a call came over his radio.
“Did you say female? Over.”
“Roger that,” the cop answered.
A tinny voice crackled over the speaker. “We’ve got a male here, approximate age thirty, named William Fraser, who says his fiancée was inside. Any chance of a match? Over.”
The cop looked to Lissy for an answer, but relief had left her unable to speak. No matter. Her friends were already cheering. “Roger, we’ve got a match.”
Lissy would have taken off running at that moment, had the cop not stopped her.
“They’re bringing him around the block in a squad car. Stay put, ma’am.” Then he grinned. “I just love a goddamned happy ending.”
Tears of joy streaming down her face, Lissy hurried to the edge of the park, watched and waited. And then she saw it: a black-and-white squad car, lights flashing, slowly rounding the corner. The car hadn’t yet stopped when the passenger door flew open and Will leapt out.
She ran.
And then his arms were around her, lifting her off her feet, his lips kissing her hair, her cheeks, her lips, as she held him close, sobbing out her fear and happiness against his chest.
Will couldn’t let go of her. She was the most precious thing he’d ever held, and he just couldn’t let go. “My God, Lissy, I was sure I’d lost you!”