Something was wrong.
David knew it, even though she’d denied it, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. She’d been tense all night. He watched her as she said goodbye to Marlo and Kenny, trying to pinpoint exactly what the problem might be, but for the life of him, he couldn’t.
As he and Roxanne walked slowly out to the taxi stand, he said casually, “I thought tonight was nice, didn’t you?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Marlo’s sure a lot of fun.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Did it bother you that we ran into them?”
“Bother me? Why should it bother me?”
David didn’t know, but he was more sure than ever that something about Marlo and Kenny had bothered Roxanne. He could hear it in her voice, no matter what she said. “Well,” he said lightly, “I was flattering myself that maybe you just wanted to be alone with me.”
She laughed, and there was an undercurrent of relief in her voice as she answered. “Oh, David, I thought you’d think I was silly, but that’s exactly it. Our…our honeymoon is ours, and I hated sharing it, even with people as nice as Marlo and Kenny.”
He thought about challenging her. Continuing to probe until he got to the real truth, but then he thought, oh, what the hell. Whatever was bothering her was over now, and it probably wasn’t important, anyway. Why make a big deal out of it? Instead, he pulled her closer and kissed her temple, saying softly, “Well, we’ll be alone soon.”
Twenty minutes later, as they walked onto their terrace, he drew her into his arms. For a long time they stood there in the moonlight, arms wrapped around each other, and kissed.
Later, after they’d made love and were lying in each other’s arms, he thought again how glad he was they’d waited until they were married to become intimate, because how would he have stood it if they hadn’t? If they’d been lovers before, he’d never have been able to wait so long before marrying her, not the way he felt about her now. “You were right, you know,” he said softly, tracing the line of her jaw.
“About what?”
He explained what he’d been thinking, fully expecting she would agree with him. But she made no comment, which kind of disappointed him. In fact, she was quiet for so long, he began to be concerned.
Finally he said, “Sweetheart, I know something’s bothering you.”
She sighed deeply.
“Tell me what it is,” he coaxed.
Her eyes were dark, shining pools as they met his. “I was thinking how very much I love you. So much that it frightens me.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Why should it frighten you?”
She didn’t answer for a long time. Then, finally, in a low voice tinged with sadness, she said, “Because it will be so hard to bear if…if I should ever lose you.”
“You’ll never lose me,” he said gruffly. He cupped her chin, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes again. “You’re stuck with me forever.”
She nodded, even smiled, but there was a suspicious sheen in her eyes.
Touched by her intensity, he kissed her tenderly. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
How was she going to bear it? Rachel wondered. How was she going to give him up? She drew circles in the sand and watched him, marveling at the beauty of his body. He was sitting on a big bath towel, doing sit-ups in the shade of a nearby palm tree. It was the morning of their next to last day in St. John. Tomorrow at noon they would leave, and for Rachel it would be the beginning of the end.
How was she going to tell him?
When was she going to tell him?
Not on the plane, certainly, for all the reasons she hadn’t told him on the plane coming here.
The plan was for them to go directly from the airport to David’s house. That was it, then. She would tell him when they were in the privacy of his home, and then, afterward, she would leave.
She closed her eyes, fighting tears.
Leave him.
How could she bear it?
Never to see him again. Never to touch him again. Never to kiss him. Never to feel him touching her.
Oh, God…
“Sweetheart?”
Rachel jumped. Swallowed.
David dropped to the sand beside her. His chest and arms were covered by a fine sheen of moisture. He smelled of sun and suntan oil and sweat. His dark eyes shone with concern. “Why so sad?”
Rachel shrugged, fighting to control her emotions. “I guess because I hate to leave here.”
He kissed her shoulder. “I know. Me, too.”
“I wish…I wish we could stay here forever. That we never had to go back to the real world.”
“Why don’t we? We can quit our jobs, and I’ll sell my house and you and Rachel can sell your town house. Shoot, we could even sell our cars. No need for a car here. We’ll pool our money and buy one of those little houses up in the hills.”
If only it was that easy. If only it was possible to hide out forever. The lump in her throat felt as big as a grapefruit and refused to go away.
“Hey,” he said, sliding his arm around her waist and kissing her cheek, “c’mon. Cheer up. Maybe it won’t be Colombé, but you’ll enjoy getting the house fixed up and starting our lives together at home.”
Rachel tried to smile, but the pain of knowing that instead of starting life as a married couple they would be ending their time together was too acute.
“It’s not like we can’t come back to Colombé,” he said tenderly. “In fact, we can come back for our first anniversary.” When she didn’t answer, he tipped her face up. “Now, come on, smile.”
Rachel knew that years from now, when she thought back to this moment, it would be remembered as the day her heart began to break.
Chapter Eight
That night their lovemaking was bittersweet. Rachel poured her heart and soul into it, trying to show David by her intensity how much he meant to her. She wanted him to always remember this last night on Colombé, no matter what happened next.
Afterward, as if on some level he knew what she felt, he cradled her close and said, “I’ll never forget this week.”
“I won’t, either,” she said softly. “It’s been wonderful.” If only she could stay here, in the warm circle of his arms, always. If only they never had to go back to Houston.
“We’re going to have the best life together,” he continued. He lifted her chin and kissed her, letting his mouth linger softly against hers.
David, my darling…
Tucking her head under his chin again, he said, “You know what I’m looking forward to?”
“What?”
“I can’t wait till we have kids.”
Rachel’s heart knocked painfully.
“I’d like to have at least three. I always hated being an only child.”
“Did you?”
“Uh-huh. I envied you and Rachel because you had each other, and you always seemed so close.”
“Were you lonely, David?”
“Yes. My grandmother tried hard. She always had kids around for me to play with, and she took me all kinds of places, but there were times, you know, when the other kids’ parents came to school parties or plays. And I remember once, in the fifth grade, when different fathers came and talked about what they did for a living. Even the kids whose parents were divorced had fathers, and they’d be so excited when it was their father up there talking to the rest of us…so proud….” His voice trailed off.
For a long moment he was silent, and Rachel’s heart ached for that little boy.
Then, in a brisker tone, he said, “It doesn’t matter anymore. I survived.” He kissed her forehead. “Anyway, now I’ve got you, and we’re going to have a family of our own.”
She and David were more alike than she’d known, she realized, for even though she’d had Roxanne, there had been so many times Rachel had been lonely, too. “I think three is a perfect number,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on h
er belly. “You could be pregnant now.”
Rachel swallowed. “Yes.”
She could feel his smile against her forehead. “I hope you are.”
All she could do was nod, because she didn’t trust herself to speak.
“I hope we have a little girl first. A beautiful little girl. Someone who would grow up to be just like you.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, David,” she said brokenly.
“Hey, what’s with all these tears?” He wiped them away with his hand, then kissed her tenderly. “You still sad about leaving tomorrow?”
“It’s not that, it’s…you’re so good to me. I don’t deserve it.”
“What are you talking about?” He pulled back a little, and when she avoided his eyes, he tipped her chin up so he could look at her. “What do you mean, you don’t deserve it? You’re my wife, and I love you. Why wouldn’t I be good to you? You’re good to me.”
Every word was like another nail being pounded into her coffin. “I don’t deserve it. I—I’m not the person you think I am.”
He laughed, the sound affectionate and indulgent “That’s crazy. You’re exactly the person I want you to be. You know, it’s a funny thing. How many years have I known you? You’d think I’d know everything about you. Well, this week I’ve discovered things about you, parts of your personality that I never saw before, and they’ve made me love you even more.”
“Oh, David. Do you…do you really mean that?”
“Hell, yes, I mean it. Now, will you stop this?” She could hear the beginnings of exasperation in his voice and knew she had to either tell him the truth now or set his mind at ease by lightening up. She touched his cheek. “David?”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For saying what you did. I—I’ll never forget it.” He captured her hand and, bringing it to his mouth, kissed the open palm. “Damn right you won’t forget it, because I intend to remind you of it every day for the rest of our lives.”
The following afternoon, sitting next to David in the first-class section of their flight from Colombé to Miami, Rachel looked out the window and thought about that conversation. She should have told him then. Regardless of the fact that she wanted to wait until they were in Houston, she should have told him then. But selfishly, she hadn’t wanted to relinquish those last precious hours, so she’d said nothing.
You deserve every awful thing David is going to think of you, you know that, don’t you, because last night you weren’t thinking of him and his welfare, you were thinking of yourself!
She’d had the perfect opening. When he’d said how she’d shown him personality traits he’d never seen before, she should have said, straight out, “That’s because I’m not Roxanne. I’m Rachel.”
Oh, God.
Each mile brought her closer to the time when she would have to say just that.
She couldn’t even imagine what he would say when she finally got the words out. How he would feel. That he would despise her was a given. That he would probably order her out of his house and his life and that he would probably refuse to ever see her or speak to her again was a distinct possibility.
She tried to be stoic as she pictured the scenario. She reminded herself over and over again that it had been worth it. That she would not trade the past week for anything. That the joy she’d experienced with David was worth all the pain and loneliness, and every bit of the heartache and misery she was going to feel.
“’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”
Tennyson had written those words. And Rachel believed in their truth. But there was no use kidding herself. It was going to be hard.
And it was going to hurt so much more than she’d ever imagined, because until she’d spent this time with David, until she’d experienced actually being with him, she’d had no real understanding of how much he really meant to her.
Sure, she’d loved him, but now…now he was as essential to her as the air she breathed.
He was part of her.
Without him, she would not be whole. Without him, a piece of her heart, a piece of her soul, would be gone forever.
Please, God, please, God, let me be pregnant. Let me have a part of David to keep and to love. Over and over, she silently repeated her prayer.
And then, because she could no longer endure thinking about what awaited her at home, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
David was glad Roxanne had finally fallen asleep, because he knew she must be tired. She’d slept fitfully last night, and there were dark shadows under her eyes today.
He frowned.
Why was she so reluctant to go home?
She acted as if something had spooked her, but he had no idea what it could be. And why had she acted so strange last night, saying all those crazy things about not being the person he thought she was? It was almost as if she were hiding some terrible secret, but that was nutty.
Hell, he’d known her and Rachel all of their lives. There wasn’t anything he didn’t know about them and their family.
That’s not true. You said yourself that this week you’d discovered all kinds of things about Roxanne that you hadn’t known before.
Well, sure, but discovering hidden facets to someone’s personality was a hell of a lot different than discovering some family skeleton. After all, no one was an open book. He was a perfect example. He’d be willing to bet his grandmother thought she knew everything about him and his personality, but she didn’t. He’d been hiding his secret dreams for years. Everyone hid something.
His frown deepened.
What was Roxanne hiding?
Obviously, it had something to do with returning to Houston, because she had not seemed the least worried or unhappy at the beginning of the week, when they’d first arrived in Colombé. Her fears or worries or whatever they were had begun to show themselves only in the past two days, as they prepared to go home.
And now she looked tired and tense again, just the way she had in the weeks before their wedding.
The thought bothered him.
It bothered him a lot.
He sure hoped returning to Houston wasn’t going to bring about a resumption of that almost frenetic behavior she’d exhibited then, because he liked the Roxanne he’d discovered in Colombé better than he’d liked the old Roxanne.
Much better.
And he didn’t want to lose her.
Instead of the forty-five-minute wait they’d expected to have in Miami, their flight to Houston was delayed because of bad weather and took off four hours late. So it was after midnight when their taxi pulled in to the driveway of the small West University house David had purchased six months earlier.
By the time they arrived, Rachel was completely worn out, physically as well as mentally. The long hours in the air, the waiting and the worrying she’d done had taken their toll.
She knew there was no way she could face the emotional confrontation of telling David the truth. Not tonight. Besides, he was tired, too, she could see that plainly, and he had to go into the office in the morning.
Her confession would have to wait until tomorrow, she told herself. Decision made, she couldn’t help feeling relieved, even though her reprieve would be shortlived.
“Let’s not even bother to unpack,” David said, unceremoniously dumping their suitcases in a corner of the bedroom. “I’m beat, and I know you are. Let’s just go to bed.”
Rachel nodded gratefully.
That night, for the first time since the wedding, they did not make love. And for this, too, Rachel was grateful. She had already said her physical goodbye to David in Colombé. Making love again would only have made it more painful to tell him the truth tomorrow.
They slept through the alarm the next morning.
“Damn!” David said, jumping out of bed. “It’s seven-thirty!”
There was no time for breakfast or anything else befor
e he had to leave for the office.
“I’ll grab a cup of coffee on the way,” he said, giving her a hurried kiss goodbye. “Don’t worry about dinner. I know you’ve probably got a busy day today, too. We can send out for Chinese or something. And afterward, we can go over to the town house and finish moving your things over, okay?”
“All right.”
“Call you later,” he said. Then, grinning, he kissed her again. “I like this. Having you here in the morning. Knowing you’ll be here tonight.”
Rachel liked it, too. And after he was gone, she tried not to dwell on how wonderful it would be to have the right to be there every day. Thinking about things that could never be was futile.
She could not change the facts. She wasn’t really his wife. And she never would be.
With a leaden heart she walked back to the bedroom where she made the bed and unpacked his suitcases. Lovingly, she put his belongings away. She held his soft cotton shirts against her face, breathing in the lingering scent of David. Tears filled her eyes as she stroked the silky black pajama bottoms he’d worn on their wedding night. Even his scuffed Docksiders put a lump in her throat.
Other than finding something clean to wear, she ignored her own two suitcases. Roxanne’s two suitcases, she corrected herself. There was no reason to unpack them.
She filled the washer with a load of David’s laundry and set aside the clothing that needed to go to the dry cleaner’s. Even though she wasn’t legally David’s wife, she could at least do these last wifely chores for him. She wanted to do them. They were a labor of love.
Once she’d finished with everything she could see to do at his house, she showered and dressed, then drove Roxanne’s car—which she’d left in David’s garage the day before the wedding—over to their town house.
Because Rachel had fully expected to be there the past week, no arrangements had been made for anyone to gather mail or the newspaper. As a result, the mailbox was overflowing, and newspapers had accumulated in the courtyard.
Inside, it gave her a pang to see the paintings propped against the walls of the dining room and her notes and sketchbooks stacked on the dining-room table. She knew that no matter how miserable she was going to feel tomorrow after unburdening herself to David, she would not be able to wallow in it. Because if she didn’t immediately get to work, she would lose not only David, but this golden opportunity to further her career.
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