by Talley, Liz
He’d wanted to marry Jillian and then divorce her? Was that because Sunny’d still been in the picture, or was it because he couldn’t bear to be in a loveless marriage? Surely he didn’t think she’d just wait around for him? Like some weird, pathetic loser waiting for her turn?
“But you didn’t divorce her. I mean, not until much later.”
“You left and made it very clear you wanted nothing more to do with me. I tried everything to find you. I begged your mother and sister to help me, but they didn’t know where you’d gone. I left messages on your cell phone until it was disconnected. I haunted the internet, hoping to find some search engine that could find you. After three months of marriage, I started to think that it would be better to try to make things work with Jillian, at least for the baby’s sake.”
She stiffened slightly before forcing herself to relax. What would it have mattered if Henry had divorced Jillian after the baby came? Six weeks to the day she left Morning Glory, Sunny married Alan. “I couldn’t stay here and watch that, Henry. Surely you can understand. Every corner I turned put me face-to-face with people talking about Henry Delmar marrying the governor’s granddaughter.”
“But you left before graduation. You left everything behind.”
“I didn’t want it anymore.” And as crazy and melodramatic as it sounded, that was the truth. Once she’d found out that everything she’d ever wanted was gone like a puff of smoke, she didn’t care if she lived or died. Now she realized she’d likely been suffering depression, probably inherited from her mother, but at that time, knowing Henry would marry a wealthy girl from Laurel, Mississippi, leaving her out in the cold, pressing her nose against a window like a beggar, nothing mattered to her. “So I left town. I missed the connecting bus that would take me to Charlotte. I had planned to stay with a friend I’d met on a school trip. She lived outside the city, but I sat by this cute Marine who’d also missed his bus. At the end of three hours, he wasn’t a stranger. He was someone like me, looking to make a new start. I… Well, I just went with him.”
He shook his head. “God, that was so dangerous. So incredibly dangerous.”
“I know, but like I said, I didn’t care. Alan made his life in the military sound pretty good. He said I could bunk on his couch and he’d help me find a job. He was attracted to me—I’m not stupid—and I guess I liked that this cute guy was into me. He wanted me.”
Henry stilled and then said, “Sunny, I always wanted you.”
“But you didn’t pick me, Henry. I know all the details, the guilt, doing the right thing, all that stuff. But when it came down to it, you didn’t choose me.”
He didn’t protest her words, and she wondered if he could understand how it felt to be thrown away. Whether the tossing over of her was easy or hard, the result was the same.
“For several years, Alan and I imagined we were happy. He wasn’t a bad guy. A little rough around the edges, but decent. Maybe if I hadn’t had such a hard time with the pregnancy stuff, it would have been better. I found out I was pregnant after his first deployment. He’d been back for only three months when I took that pregnancy test. He took me to the fanciest restaurant in town, and I thought things would work. We’d have a family and I would have a new purpose, but I lost the pregnancy at nine weeks. We were both pretty torn up.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, giving her a squeeze.
“Over the next few years, moving all over the country, going though deployments, we had our ups and downs like all marriages. There were times I thought we should cash it in, but then I would get pregnant again, and I would convince myself I could have a family. I wanted to have that, you know. I had grown up with such dysfunction. I never knew my father, or at least Betty would never tell me who my father was… if she even knew, and I wanted that perfect family.”
“No family is perfect. Look at mine. My mother loved to present this Christmas-card image, but my father had multiple affairs in their early marriage. Perfect’s overrated.”
“Yeah, but I thought I could have that. And I guess you know the rest. Alan deployed for a third time, and I found out I was pregnant a week after he left. That time I was so careful. I took progesterone shots that hurt like hell, and the doctors put a stitch in my cervix to help prevent early labor. I stayed in bed so much I worried about bedsores. Then Alan went MIA. His copter went down.”
“God, that’s so hard to even comprehend.”
“It was stressful. Alan had only a few more years until he could draw his full retirement, and we’d planned so much. I was going to move my mom up there with me and go back to school, and Alan had a buddy who owned a security company in Durham and had a job lined up. It was so sad, you know? I loved him as much as I could. It wasn’t like this grand thing, but we were okay.”
“I know how that feels.” She could hear the understanding in his voice. He’d likely felt the same way in his own marriage, but had done as she had—tried his best to make it work.
“They found his body, and someone came to the house to deliver the news. I already knew he was dead, but hearing it was so awful. Four days after his funeral, I went into labor. The baby wasn’t old enough to survive outside my womb, and the doctors couldn’t stop the labor.” Her voice sounded far away, almost indifferent. That was the way she had to be to get through a retelling of what had happened.
Henry didn’t say anything. Perhaps he couldn’t think of what to say to something like losing one’s husband and child in one week. At any rate, his silence was better than a platitude. So many had offered her stupid excuses. God knows what He’s doing. This is part of His perfect plan. It will get better with time.
“I had to decide whether I would dispose of the baby or have a funeral,” she said, pulling away from him and sitting up. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore but had to finish. “It was a girl. I named her Rose Elise. I buried her next to Alan even though the pastor suggested I bury her with the little angels in that section of the cemetery—you know the one—it has all the guardian angel statues. But they hadn’t mowed it in a long time. It was like everyone had forgotten about them. Plus it felt better leaving her there with her daddy.”
Henry’s hand stroked her back. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Sunny. So sorry.”
“Yeah,” she said, wiping beneath her lashes at the moisture that had appeared yet again. “Me too.” She turned to him then, noting the tears sheening his eyes. “I guess I told you more than you wanted to know, huh?” She tried to smile but found it impossible.
Henry sat up and placed his arms around her and held her. That was his answer. He held her. And there was no better answer than that one.
After a few minutes of sweet solace, she pulled away from him and slid from beneath the blanket. She picked up her underwear and walked into the bathroom. “I should be getting home.”
“I wish you could stay.”
The bathroom gave her a needed reprieve. In the low vanity light, she could see how puffy her eyes were and how blotchy her skin. She still wasn’t sure how she’d gone from languid sex goddess to sobbing sad sack, but everything had pressed in on her until she could do nothing else. Maybe, oddly enough, the boy who’d once betrayed her had become the perfect man to support her as she fell apart. She’d held in her grief for months and finally it had found a path.
Sunny pulled on her underwear and splashed cold water on her face, using a fresh hand towel from the basket beside the sink. When she returned to the room, Henry had pulled his jeans on and turned on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with golden light. Wordlessly, she pulled on her clothes, not making eye contact because it was as if turning on the lamp had destroyed the sacred intimacy they’d cloaked themselves in.
“So… what are we doing here?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Is this…?”
“What?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze. She pulled a ponytail holder out of her pocket and pulled her hair back so it wouldn’t tangle on the ride back to her mother’s h
ouse.
“We just had sex. I’m asking what your intentions are… about us.”
She hadn’t been thinking when she hopped on her bike and came to Henry for some sexual healing. Yeah. That was the problem—she hadn’t thought at all. “Well, I’m not sure, Henry. I know this sounds really ridiculous, but I’m not ready for… us. I hadn’t planned to come here, and I damn sure hadn’t planned to, uh, take my clothes off. It just sort of happened.”
“I understand why you came.”
She gave a wry smile. “I’m glad you do, because I’m appalled at how easy it was to do that. One dumb instance of getting my feelings hurt and I did this.” She waved her hand toward the rumpled bed and tissue-strewn bedside table.
“I’m glad though.”
She stood for a moment and thought about how good he’d been to her. “There’s been so much left unfinished between us, so much we never said. It’s been good to say it.”
“Thank you for telling me about your husband and the losses you suffered.”
“I supposed I never grieved my husband or daughter. I closed myself up and refused to even think about what happened to me. It’s crazy, but I finally feel like I have some closure.”
His brow furrowed. “Closure?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, hoping she could make him understand that what had happened hadn’t been a beginning for them. More like something she needed so she could start to heal, start to forgive him, herself, and God. “I’m not ready for anything more at this point. I wasn’t trying to mislead you into thinking anything other than—”
He uncrossed his arms and shoved a hand through his thick hair. “So you only needed me to make yourself feel better.” It wasn’t a question.
As much as Sunny had once wanted to hurt Henry, she found it pained her to hurt him now. “I wasn’t trying to use you, Henry. I never intended for this to happen.”
“I get that. I hadn’t planned on it either.” He quirked his lips. “So you said closure. Like this was an end. I had thought that was what I wanted. When you first showed up, I saw the opportunity to finally clear the air between us, but now… now I’m not so sure that’s all I want.”
His words were powerful, but she couldn’t agree to what he wanted. She bit her lower lip and tried to find the words she needed. “Henry, I still need to heal from the grief. I know it sounds strange, but what just happened between us not only closed the door on the anger I nursed for years but it also opened the door to the possibility that I can find something more than darkness. You gave me that, and I know you want more. I’m not stupid. I know you, and deep down I know you want more than what I can give right now. But I’m just not ready to be in a relationship… despite what we just did.”
He shook his head but said nothing more. She could feel his disappointment.
Guilt crept up on her, but she pushed it away. For the first time in a long time, her soul felt unfettered. “Can we get to know each other again? With the pain of the past pushed aside, I feel like we can do that. I feel like we can go slow and at the very least find some goodness.”
After a few seconds, Henry’s expression mellowed. “We already talked about a do-over. I’m not sure how the sex we just had fits in with that, but I already told you that I’m your friend.”
“You are, but I think what I’m asking is for things to fall as they fall without defining anything. I’ve had two major relationships in my life—you and Alan—and before I can let my heart go there again, I need to get myself right. And that will take a little time. If it’s okay, I would like to go back to where we were before I knocked on your door and threw myself at you. I can’t deal with the expectation of anything else… for the time being.”
“So you mean we’re just friends?”
“For now.”
“Well, I don’t think there’s really anything I can say at this point. Look, I get it. You’ve had a rough last six months. I’m not going to push you to do something you don’t want to do. I’ve always cared about you. Nothing’s changed that.”
She searched his expression. Henry looked dissatisfied, but she knew that deep inside, he understood what she needed. He’d give her space. That was the kind of guy he was.
“You’re a good guy, Henry. For a long time I wanted to believe different because you hurt me so badly, but I know you.” She stuck out her hand. “Are we good? Friends?”
He walked over and took her hand. “For now.”
“For now,” she agreed.
Henry watched as the cabinet guys used a level to check that the cabinets they’d installed were plumb. It had been over a week since Henry had put in a call to the new owner of Country Boy Construction and asked him to step up the timeline so he could have his house completed by the end of spring. There was a list a mile long, including repairs due to the house sitting unfinished so long, but things were finally happening. The Cararra marble counters he’d ordered a year ago would arrive the next day, and the custom-made light fixture would be hung.
The smell of fresh-cut timber and the hum of the sander being used in the dining nook were somehow comforting, signifying something he’d set aside for too long. Just as he gave an inward sigh of satisfaction, a flash of color drew Henry’s gaze out the window.
Damn it. Katie Clare was climbing the magnolia tree again.
Henry made his way through the kitchen, out the half-finished mudroom, and pushed through the french doors. “Katie Clare, get out of that tree.”
“Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m a real good climber.”
“I don’t care. You’re going to break something. Wait, are you barefoot?”
Katie was only about ten feet up in the tree. She stuck her foot out and wiggled her toes. “The bestest climbers go barefoot.”
Lord. She was going to be the death of him. “It’s too cold, chicken. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“It’s not cold,” she scoffed, like only a precocious, headstrong child could. “And you let me wear shorts.”
She’d begged to wear shorts even though the morning had dawned overly cool for a normal April day. The sun had come out to play hide-and-seek with the spring clouds, and everything was covered in a delightful shade of pollen yellow. Thankfully, the house was painted a soft butterscotch and showed little of the springtime coating.
“Where’s your jacket?”
Katie Clare pointed toward a lower branch. “I got hot. Climbing’s hard work.”
“Where’s your brother? I told him to watch you.”
“He’s snapchatting a girl. Taylor Carey.”
“I am not,” Landry said from his perch on a pile of lumber over to the left. Henry hadn’t seen his firstborn, likely because the kid had been so absorbed in his phone.
“I told you to watch your sister,” he said, frowning because Landry had yet to look away from his phone. “You know, I think you’ve had enough screen time. Put the phone away and don’t let me see it again.”
“Oh my God, Dad. I’ve barely been on it.” Landry looked up and gave him a withering glance.
“You heard me.” He gave him the dad stare, which essentially communicated Henry was at his breaking point. A novice at stare-offs, Landry eventually pressed something on his phone and slipped it into his back pocket.
Henry stifled a victorious smile. “How about we walk over to the barn and see if Clem is there? He’s getting the last of his stuff today. He’ll be leaving next week.”
“Clem said I can come see him and Frances in Charleston. That’s in South Carolina. There’s beaches there and stuff. Remember when we went with Mommy to the beach? I was just a baby. I don’t remember it good.”
“I do. I’m down with going to see Clem. Let’s shoot for summer, aka bikini season,” Landry said.
Henry made a face at his smiling son as he waited for Katie to climb down, wincing when she nearly slipped. “Careful, bunny.”
“Why do you call me bunny or chicken?” Katie Clare asked.
“’Cause you�
��re fast as a bunny and squawky like a chicken.” He grinned.
“More dumb like a bunny,” Landry drawled.
Katie tried to kick her brother before she dropped to the ground with a minimal number of scratches and a bit of tree pollen on her denim shorts.
After insisting his daughter put on her jacket and shoes, Henry started down the trail that led to the other side of the pond where the red barn sat, doors open. Various crates and pieces of machinery sat out near the huge F-250 hooked to a trailer. Clem crafted beautiful furniture and sold it online. Henry had commissioned a few pieces for the new house, but since it was still being completed, he’d asked Clem to leave them in the barn. Clem had gotten an offer from a furniture maker and wanted to move closer to his hometown of Charleston so he could have better transportation options for his pieces. Henry was sad to see his friend go, but very happy that the man had found a new career and a woman who loved him.
Which was what he wanted for himself.
Well, not necessarily a new career, but it was beyond time for a new start. Which was why he’d called the man Clem had sold his construction business to and told him he wanted his house ready by the beginning of summer. He’d hired Clem to finish out the project after Henry’s guys had done the concrete, framing, and drywall, but that was before Clem sold his Country Boy Construction to Larry Bricker. Luckily for Henry, Larry’d had a recent project fall through and had guys ready to complete the build. As for a woman, well, after what happened between him and Sunny last weekend, he wasn’t sure where he stood on females in his life… outside of the one skipping in front of him.
Of course, hoping for something with Sunny wasn’t smart. She’d said she wasn’t staying and wasn’t looking for a relationship. The sex had been amazing and they had a bond—no questioning that—but an orgasm and a shared past weren’t enough to hold Sunny here.
Time.
Sassy had told him to give Sunny time, and he’d agreed to give her space last weekend. So he should stop thinking about how to keep her in Morning Glory. About how to draw her closer. About how incredible she’d looked rising above him, breasts jiggling as she rode him.