Carter took my hand and led me out of the room. He didn’t ask what I wanted. He simply went to the fridge, withdrew a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and poured us each a glass.
He raised his for a toast. “To Sammy. And to us.”
We clinked, and I took a sip. “I’m sure he’s looking down on this with a smile.”
“I’ll bet he is.”
We made light conversation for a little while. Maybe it was the wine, but I felt relaxed and rejuvenated. Then Carter pulled out his phone. “I meant to ask if you’d seen this.” He typed a few words, then began to scroll through a website.
“What is it?”
“This.” He handed me his phone and showed me a picture of an attractive blond woman with her daughter. They were smiling into the camera and posing in a playground.
I read the title of the article:
GIRL WHO WENT TO HEAVEN IS JUST LIKE YOU AND ME
My eyes lifted. “This is her?”
“Yes, I thought you’d like to see what she looks like. It says her mother is still trying to protect their privacy, and this info came from an anonymous source who claims to know them personally. I suspect the source was paid big bucks for the picture.”
I read through the article, which described the little girl as happy and healthy and suffering no long-term ill health effects from the ordeal.
I zoomed in on the photo to get a closer look at their smiling faces. “They seem happy. The mom’s pretty.”
Carter stood for a moment, watching me intently. I handed his phone back to him. Then he turned and gestured for me to follow him onto the back deck.
The last time I was in this house, we had just signed the divorce papers and I couldn’t even look out the window at the backyard. Today, I found myself wanting to see it, one last time.
We stood outside together in the soft September breeze, side by side, sipping our wine. I looked at the spot on the grass where the blue paddling pool had been. I stared at it for a long time.
Then I shaded my eyes and squinted through the late afternoon haze, to try and see the playhouse, but it was too far back in the woods and the foliage was more overgrown than ever. I couldn’t see it.
“What are you going to do after you sell this place?” I asked Carter, lowering my hand to my side and taking another sip of wine. “Will you move in with Melissa?”
He scoffed. “God no. I thought you knew about that. I figured Lori would have told you by now. Melissa and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
My eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry to hear that. When—?”
“The week after we got home from our trip to see the psychic. She kept insinuating that you and I must have slept together, but I kept telling her we didn’t, but she just couldn’t believe me. That wasn’t the worst of it. She never really understood the situation with Sammy. She was always pushing me to get over it, hounding me to clean out his room, but it was none of her business. Nobody can push you to be ready. You’re ready when you’re ready. What’s more, she wanted us to do all that together, but that just wasn’t going to happen.”
“Luke wanted to come today as well. I had to tell him no.”
“How did he take it?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “He’s always very understanding, so he pretended to be okay with it, but I think it bothered him. I also think he’s been biding his time, waiting for this to be over, so that he and I can move on.”
Carter sipped his wine and regarded me directly. “It’ll never be over, you know. You’re always going to love Sammy. You’ll never stop thinking about him. He’ll always be your firstborn son.”
I nodded in resignation. “I know. But at least if I can think about him without wanting to drown myself, that’s something.”
“It is.” Carter clinked his glass against mine again.
“So, when are you going to call the real estate agent?”
“I’ll wait until Monday,” he replied. “Then I’ll have to start looking for a new place to live, I guess.”
“You going to be okay?”
“Of course,” he said. “It’s time for me to go. Lately, it just hurts to keep living here with all my regrets.”
His eyes held a whole universe of melancholy and I felt it, too—a great and terrible sadness. This was followed by a wave of discomfort, because I wanted overwhelmingly to step into his arms again and apologize for everything. To somehow find a way back to what we once were to each other.
We were supposed to love each other forever. I’d always believed we would, that we were inseparable. Soul mates from the first moment our eyes met. How did this happen?
Standing there with him now felt like I was experiencing another death. Somehow, I had to find a way to say good-bye to him and to all of this—to bury our history deep in the ground. I reminded myself that it was impossible to go back. We weren’t the same people we once were, and I was engaged to Luke now. I loved Luke. I truly did. He had been the one to pull me out of the abyss.
Carter and I stood for a moment, staring out over the yard while my heart beat thunderously in my chest. Before I did something unthinkable—like reach out to touch Carter—I finished my wine and said, “How about we take a walk to the playhouse? I’d like to see it one last time before someone else takes possession.”
Carter nodded. He took hold of my hand and led me down the deck stairs. As we walked across the yard to the gate, my heart seized up with sadness, because I knew this was truly the end.
It would be our final good-bye.
Chapter Thirteen
Luke
Oak Bay, British Columbia
After Emma spent the day with Carter, packing up the tangible remnants of their marriage to prepare their house for sale, she returned home exhausted—both physically and emotionally. She didn’t want to talk about her day, except to say that it was both grueling and therapeutic. She didn’t mention Carter at all. When I asked how things had gone with him, she shrugged a shoulder and said, “It was fine. I’m just glad it’s over.”
She showed me a box that contained a few of Sammy’s belongings she had held onto as keepsakes. I suggested she find a better box for the items—something nicer than cardboard. An antique chest perhaps? I proposed that we go shopping together the next day. When she said yes, I was relieved to be allowed into that part of her life.
* * *
Three days later, Emma was late coming home from work. When she didn’t call, I began to worry and sent her a quick text.
I’m about to fire up the barbeque. Are you on your way?
I set my phone on the kitchen counter and tried not to fixate on it while I waited for a response. When it buzzed a moment later, I was in the other room and returned to pick it up.
Sorry, I should have called. I’m working late. I’ll be home around seven.
I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t forget the day she’d said something similar when she was secretly going to meet Carter. She’d confessed the truth later, but that didn’t erase the fact that she’d lied about it initially.
I raked my fingers through my hair, reminding myself that just because a girlfriend had cheated on me in the past, it didn’t mean all women were untrustworthy or destined to be unfaithful.
I texted her back: OK. See you soon.
When she arrived home, everything seemed normal. She kissed me on the cheek before hurrying upstairs to change out of her work clothes. We enjoyed a nice dinner together with wine, and I chastised myself for not trusting her. I told myself these were my issues, not hers, and I couldn’t let them get the better of me.
* * *
The following Saturday, I came home from a morning run and couldn’t find Emma or the dogs anywhere in the house. Dripping with sweat, I went outside to the back patio and spotted her down on the rocks, pacing back and forth, talking on her phone. The dogs were sitting at the edge of the lawn, looking out over the water.
I called out to her, but she couldn’t hear me above the sound of the waves
on the rocks. I went back inside for a glass of water and returned to the patio. She was still talking. She didn’t look back at the house.
Later, when she finally came inside, I asked if she wanted to go out for brunch. She said yes and we went to one of our favorite greasy diners in Oak Bay.
The waitress arrived with glasses of water and took our orders. Then Emma sat back and stared out the front windows at the cars passing by.
She seemed distracted. Subdued.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. “You’ve been quiet.”
She immediately perked up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be. Everything’s fine. It was just a long week at work.”
I sipped my coffee. “You were on the phone for a while. Who were you talking to?”
God, I hated how I sounded—like a jealous, possessive boyfriend, trying not to sound jealous and possessive.
Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That was my cousin Lori. She’s dating some guy who doesn’t call her often enough, in her mind. I had to talk her off the ledge.”
“Ah.”
Emma launched into a detailed explanation of where Lori had met the guy, and why Emma thought he was all wrong for her. It was good to see her speaking animatedly, sitting forward, gesturing with her hands.
Again, I chastised myself for being so paranoid. I needed to get a grip. Everything was fine.
* * *
A week later, everything wasn’t fine.
I had traveled to Vancouver for a meeting with some clients visiting from Toronto and was supposed to take the evening ferry home, but the meeting ended early and I managed to get on the late afternoon boat. I wanted to arrive home before Emma did, and surprise her with her favorite sushi and a bouquet of flowers.
When I pulled into the driveway, a strange car was parked out front. I recognized it immediately. It was Carter’s.
My gut twisted into a tight, coiled knot but I fought not to assume the worst. Maybe they’d had an offer on the house and he was just dropping off papers for her to sign.
I parked my car and checked my phone to see if she’d texted me to let me know, but there were no messages from her.
Swallowing over my apprehension, I gathered the flowers and sushi up off the seat, got out of the car and shut the door quietly with my elbow, which was another show of mistrust, because if there was something going on, I wanted to surprise them and catch them in the act. That would be best. It wouldn’t leave me with any doubts or unanswered questions.
I ascended the stairs slowly and slipped my key into the front lock, but the dogs started barking, so I knew my game was up.
Pushing into the foyer and setting my briefcase on the floor, the sushi and flowers on the hall table, I greeted Toby and Max, while waiting for Emma to come and greet me as well.
When she didn’t appear, I moved silently toward the kitchen. I glanced up the stairs, while my anger and suspicion escalated with every passing second.
Where was she? Were they up there, in our bed? Or was I being paranoid and irrational? That was still a very real possibility.
I reached the back windows, looked out, and saw her at last. She was running up the lawn from the rocky waterfront. Carter was behind her, also running. They must have heard the dogs barking. Was Carter chasing her?
I opened the sliding glass doors and stepped onto the patio. Emma ran up the flagstone steps from the lawn below. She was out of breath when she reached the top. She halted with her hand on the railing. Our eyes locked and held.
“You’re home early,” she said. The panic in her eyes was sharp and distinct. She was terrified of what I must be thinking.
I half expected her to say “This isn’t what it looks like,” but she didn’t say a word. She simply stood there, breathing hard, staring at me with wide eyes.
“What’s going on?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but letting her know I was suspicious.
Carter reached the top of the stairs. “Hey, Luke,” he said, as if we were friends.
By this time, I didn’t know what to think. Carter seemed at ease. Maybe it wasn’t what I thought. Maybe they actually were just signing papers for the sale of the house, which would be a good thing—one step closer to complete closure.
“Hey,” I replied.
But then Carter glared at me with challenge, and my back went up.
Emma strode toward me. Her cheeks were flushed. She was still breathing quickly. “I’m sorry, Luke. I should have told you he was coming over.”
I couldn’t speak, but my fists were clenching.
As Carter moved past her, he touched the small of her back, held his hand there for a moment. The gesture was intimate, right in front of my face, and it sent a ripple of anger down my spine.
“I should go.” He shouldered his way past me toward the sliding glass doors.
I wanted to follow and grab him by the shirt, shove him backwards into the wall of the house and tell him to get off my property, but I resisted the urge and faced my fiancée.
“What’s happening here, Emma?”
Her eyebrows pulled together with shame and remorse. It was obvious she was fighting not to cry. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. I feel terrible.”
My gut churned. “Why? Are you still in love with him?”
Her lips parted, but she couldn’t seem to find the right words to answer my question.
“Are you?” I shouted, taking a step forward because I needed to know the truth. I couldn’t go on like this.
“I don’t know,” she shakily replied. “Maybe.”
Pressing the heels of my hands to my forehead, I turned away and strode to the glass railing. I gripped it tightly and bent forward with my eyes shut, clenching my teeth together, willing this not to be happening.
I’d honestly thought this was the real thing—that Emma was the one I’d been waiting for, and that it would all work out. I thought we’d have a family together. I had wanted it so badly. I was ready.
But that couldn’t happen because she still had feelings for her ex-husband, and I felt like I was reliving a nightmare. At least this time, I hadn’t found them in bed together.
Emma moved to stand beside me. “I do love you, Luke. You have no idea how much this is killing me.”
I shot her a cold look. “It’s killing you? That’s hard to believe when you’re the one at the helm, steering the ship.”
Emma laid her hand between my shoulder blades. I wanted to brush it away, but I forced myself to remain calm. Maybe we just needed to work through this.
Another part of me said no. There was no coming back from this. She still loved Carter. This was the end of us.
“If you love him, you should go and be with him,” I said harshly. “There’s no point dragging this out.”
She stepped back. “I never wanted to hurt you. You’ve meant everything to me, Luke. I really can’t bear this.”
“Sure you can,” I said callously. “Besides, it doesn’t matter.” I moved away from the railing and faced her. “You want what you want, Emma, and it appears that it’s Carter, not me. I get it. I was just some sort of bridge for you. A way to get over what went wrong between you and him.”
“No, please don’t think that—”
I held up a hand. “Just tell me, when did you realize it? When did you know that you wanted to go back to him?”
She shook her head, as if she wasn’t sure.
“Was it when you went for the psychic reading?”
She shook her head again. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me.”
She wet her lips. “That was the start of it, I guess. And when he apologized. When we cleaned out Sammy’s room, everything felt different. All the bad stuff just disappeared. I remembered the way we used to be, before all the pain.”
“And the past was more important to you than what we have now?” I asked.
Hesitantly, she nodded. “There’s just so much history between Carter and me.”
I faced her squarely. “It can’t just be that. You always said you wanted to move forward. You wanted a new beginning. Don’t tell me you want to go backwards, that you’re loyal to promises you made years ago. If you do want to be with him, don’t sugarcoat it. If there’s no hope for us, I need to know. Tell me that you love him. That you’re always going to love him. You’re going to have to hit me over the head with a sledgehammer, Emma, or I’ll just keep fighting for you. I’ll keep waiting and hoping.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “Please, don’t make me do this.”
“Why not?” I spread my hands wide. “Is it too painful for you? Because if it is, I don’t care. Just give it to me straight. Be honest with me, because the worst thing you could do is lie to me.”
She bent forward and started weeping, but I made no effort to comfort her. Not this time. Any sympathy I might have felt had been trampled. My heart was flattened.
She struggled to pull herself together. Then she met my gaze and spoke in a quavering voice.
“I did love you. You were so good to me and you helped me move on. But I can’t explain it. Carter is part of my identity. I think our souls are meshed. He knows me better than anyone and we’ve been to hell and back—maybe not together. We had to do that separately. But he and I suffered the same.”
I turned away from her and began to pace around the patio, because this was torture. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed her to be straight with me.
“I admit, he and I were cruel to each other,” she continued, “because we were both suffering and angry. And you’ve been nothing but kind. You’re the kindest, most amazing man I’ve ever known, but the fact is…” She paused. “You don’t cherish Sammy’s memory like Carter does. That’s what he and I share. And I want to have another child, but part of me can’t imagine having a baby with anyone but Carter—because he’s my soul mate. He understands. We’re in the same place. And if we have a child, it would be Sammy’s brother or sister. Something in me wants that. I’m so sorry Luke.” She paused, then delivered the final blow. “Last week, after we packed up Sammy’s room, we went to the playhouse together and that’s when we both knew we couldn’t say good-bye. We couldn’t sell the house. So…we’re not going to.”
The Color of a Silver Lining Page 12