She grilled herself a steak for dinner, drank a glass of wine and faced the fact that life was passing her by. Frank had said his investigation could take years, and where would she be then? Still sitting alone in her too-small home in a run-down neighborhood, too old to bear children but too young to be at peace with that fact?
She poured herself another glass of wine, swatting Noby’s nose as the cat tried to share her libation. She wondered if Brian knew what day it was, if he was thinking about how she’d spend it, if he ever wondered how the years were treating her. She wondered how she’d look to him after all their time apart. Wrinkles were starting to form in the corners of her eyes—how pronounced would they be when he came home? And how long would it be before gray started to take the place of blond in her hair?
After her third glass of wine, Michelle picked up Noby and went to bed. She hadn’t played the movies or stitched a single stitch. And she hadn’t touched the cake her mother brought her that morning. She just wanted to go to sleep and forget that another year had passed her by.
* * *
J
ACOB
GAVE
HIS
PILLOW
an extra punch. The thing was too lumpy. He laid his head back down, willing himself to relax. He should’ve bought one stuffed with feathers. Cursing, Jacob threw his pillow off the bed. He’d go without.
Lying flat on his back, he stared at the ceiling. He didn’t know why he’d ever thought that Michelle was easygoing. She was actually the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. In the week since she’d admitted to having feelings for him, he’d seen her outside of work exactly once. It was amazing the way they could both spend so much time in the same house and still have no contact. Jacob had been doing the voice-over for a set of commercials the past week, and knowing that, Michelle had used the time to sew the costumes. She’d worked it out like clockwork. She picked the girls up from rehearsal, took them home, gave them a snack and then sewed until Jacob came back. At which time, she hugged the girls goodbye and left.
Jacob didn’t know whether to kiss her or strangle her. Either way, he knew something was going to have to give soon. She was starting to look exhausted and stressed, with dark shadows under her eyes and a forced smile on her lips. And he was starting to climb the walls. He’d snapped at Jessie that evening when she’d spilled her milk at the dinner table. He’d made her cry, and he hated himself for it.
Giving up on sleep, Jacob wandered out onto the deck to cool down. He knew his feelings for Michelle went deeper than anything he’d ever felt before. He craved a life with her. But she’d made it plain that she already had plans and they didn’t include him. When was he going to accept that?
* * *
I
T
WAS
THREE
DAYS
before the play was due to open, and Jacob knew that whether Michelle liked it or not she was going to have to stay late at the cottage to get the last costume done. A week ago Jacob would’ve been delighted at the prospect. Now, it only depressed him. Because as soon as she finished that costume she wasn’t going to have any reason to come back.
He was reminded of that when the silence that fell in the cottage after his daughters went to bed was broken by the soft whir of Michelle’s sewing machine. He sat back on the couch and tried not to enjoy the sense of peace—of completion—that filled his home when she was there. Michelle wasn’t a part of his life, or of his family—she wasn’t his at all. And it was time he came to terms with that.
He knew he hadn’t succeeded when, an hour later, Michelle finally stood up from her machine holding a miniature white ball gown.
“What do you think?” She rubbed the back of her neck and then one of her shoulders.
“Beautiful.”
She frowned at him. “The dress, Ryan.”
“Meggie’ll be the most beautiful woman at the ball.”
“You’ve got your stories mixed. Jessie’s the most beautiful woman at this ball.” She put the dress on a hanger.
“They’re all three going to look great, Michelle. You did a wonderful job. We owe you.”
She shrugged. “I enjoyed doing it.” She started to tidy up.
“It’s late. Just leave it,” Jacob said, moving behind her.
“But…” Her protest died on her lips as Jacob started massaging her shoulders.
Her muscles were so tight he was surprised she didn’t cry out at his touch. “Come here,” he said, pulling her over to the couch.
He worked on her knotted muscles, gently but relentlessly until he could feel her starting to relax.
“Mmm. That feels wonderful,” she said.
It felt so good to be touching her again. Her eyes closed as she leaned back against him.
“Oh, Jacob.” He heard the confusion, as well as the longing, in her voice.
“It’s okay, darling,” he murmured, wanting her to believe that as much as he did. He’d give anything to be able to fight her battle for her, to help her bury the past once and for all. Slowly, he turned her to face him.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, taking her face in his hands. Her long blond hair fell over his fingers like a silken veil, and he lowered his lips to hers.
“Hold me.” He felt her plea more than he heard it and his arms tightened around her.
“Daddy?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T
HE
SLEEPY
LITTLE
VOICE
from the hallway registered with Jacob right about the time Michelle pushed his arms away. He was sitting uncompromisingly alone on the couch when Jessie came into the room.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Michelle asked, scooping the little girl up.
“Had a bad dream,” Jessie said, her voice wobbly. “The pumpkin turned into a dragon, ’stead of a carriage, and ate Daddy.”
“Shh. It’s okay. It was only a dream. Your daddy’s right here.” Michelle pushed Jessie’s tumble of hair away from her face, then dried her tears and kissed her.
Jacob appreciated the time she gave him to recover. He’d never even considered the possibility of this type of interruption.
“I’ll take her,” he said at last, standing and reaching for Jessie.
The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head against his shoulder. “Will you rock me, Daddy? Please?”
He looked at Michelle over Jessie’s shoulder, trying to tell her how sorry he was, asking her to wait for him. She smiled faintly, shook her head and collected her things. The regret was back.
Holding Jessie, he watched out the window long after Michelle’s taillights had disappeared. When at last his daughter’s weight grew heavy with sleep, he took her back to her room. But he didn’t put her to bed right away. He sat with her in the rocker, instead, the one he’d bought when Ellen had first told him they were expecting a baby. He wondered if Jessie’s timing had been horrendous or a gift of fate. She might just have saved him from making the biggest mistake of his life.
Then again, it might already be too late for that. Kissing Michelle wasn’t the mistake. It was falling in love with her in the first place that would cost him.
* * *
J
ESSIE
SNUGGLED
HER
FACE
into Daddy’s neck. He smelled good. Kind of like a mixture of him and Michelle. She could hardly remember what her bad dream was about as Daddy rocked her and rubbed her back. She counted his heartbeats for a while. One, two. One, two. Daddy’s heartbeat was strong, just like he was.
She wondered if Michelle had noticed that about Daddy. She thought for a minute about what she’d seen when she’d first come down the hallway. Daddy had been holding Michelle and at first Jessie had thought that something was wrong, that Michelle was hurt or crying like she and Meggie and Allie sometimes did. She’d been really scared. But she knew as soon as she opened her eyes all the way that Daddy was holding Michelle different. And he was kissing her. Just like the daddies and mommies did in the movies. Jessie smiled. Now maybe Daddy wouldn’t be sad and Allie wouldn’t be so mean about being good all the time and Meggie wouldn’t be so afraid that Daddy was going to leave them, too.
Jessie’s eyes got too heavy to keep open. She would love to have Michelle for a mommy. It made her feel all warm and good inside to think about telling the kids at school that she had a mommy at home, too. Michelle always made her feel like she didn’t have to worry about stuff, because it would be okay. She guessed that was what mommies were supposed to do.
She could hardly keep herself awake to think of all the good things about Michelle being their mommy. She’d bet, when they went to the grocery store, Michelle wouldn’t pass by those cake-decorating things like Daddy always did. Maybe, when they had their next birthday, Michelle would even…
* * *
J
ACOB
GAZED
DOWN
at his sleeping daughter. If life never gave him another thing, he had more than his share already in his three little girls. His gaze trailed over the sleeping forms of his other two daughters. When he thought of Michelle heading home to only a cat for company, he knew he was a very lucky man.
He continued to rock Jessie long after the child had fallen asleep. He should put her to bed—he needed to get some sleep—but he just wasn’t ready to give up the comfort her weight brought him and walk down the hall to his empty room.
* * *
M
ICHELLE
DROVE
ALL
NIGHT
. She went down to Long Beach and then followed the ocean highway all the way to San Diego. She was too distraught to sleep, but too tired to think. She just couldn’t go home. She couldn’t face the reckoning waiting there.
She couldn’t put it off forever of course. Arriving home early Tuesday morning, she had just enough time to get ready for work. And looking in the mirror to apply her makeup, she finally had to admit the truth: she’d broken her vows to Brian.
In spite of everything—her love for Brian, her five years of faithful vigilance, the weeks of self-loathing—she loved Jacob.
Oh, how she wished she could hate him. She’d tried to blame him for what had happened, tried to cast herself as his victim. But she’d never knowingly lied, to herself or anyone else. She couldn’t start now.
* * *
J
ACOB
WASN
’
T
SURE
what to expect when he arrived at work Tuesday morning. He saw Michelle’s car in the lot and pulled his Explorer into an empty space next to it. He wished he knew what to do about their situation. Part of him just wanted to wash his hands of the whole thing. But he didn’t have that option.
“Morning,” he said as he pushed into the sound booth.
He passed by Michelle’s stool to get to his own, sat down, picked up the day’s program sheet and only then realized she hadn’t said a word since he’d walked through the door. She wouldn’t look at him, either.
“You okay?” he asked, wanting to kiss her and shake her at the same time.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night,” she said.
“Me, either. I guess we need to talk about that, huh?” He willed her to look at him. He needed to know what was going on in that head of hers. Was she really as in love with her husband as she claimed even after all this time? Or had her loyalty to Brian become a habit? A way to keep her heart safe.
She turned her face towards him but her eyes only made it to the level of his cheek. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she said.
Jacob was starting to get angry. He knew she felt
something
for him. The feelings that were consuming him weren’t completely one-sided. “Michelle—”
She busied herself with the papers in front of her. “We have a show to do, Ryan.”
Jacob clenched his jaw. Somebody definitely needed to shake her. “Then by all means let’s do it,” he said. If she wanted to pretend last night had never happened, it was fine with him.
Only it wasn’t fine. With either of them. For the first time in the three years they’d been on the air together, Jacob Ryan and Michelle Colby were
not
like clockwork. They did their show, announcing everything that was required of them, interviewing the chef of a new restaurant in Beverly Hills, giving away free movie passes and KOLR T-shirts, and repeating weather reports and station call letters at all the right intervals. But there was no magic between them, no give-and-take. They followed their program sheet exactly, like a couple of robots, without a single editorial comment or burst of laughter. Jacob knew even before he saw Bob’s frown as they signed off that he and Michelle had to talk whether she wanted to or not. If they couldn’t fool Bob, they’d certainly never fool Allie, Jessie and Meggie.
He let her leave the station without even saying goodbye. He had a hunch the KOLR staff had sufficient grist for the gossip mill to keep their tongues wagging for the rest of the week as it was. Then, maintaining enough distance so Michelle wouldn’t see him, he followed her home.
He told himself he was only doing this for the sake of their careers, but he knew, as he pulled into her driveway behind her blocking her escape, that there was a lot more to it than that. He was angry, though he’d be hard put to say why, and he was worried about her.
“Go home, Jacob,” she said when he met her at the front door. She looked tired enough to collapse on the spot.
“Not until we get this settled,” he said, standing his ground.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I think we need to.”
She opened the front door and turned to face him, still not quite meeting his eyes. “It’d be beating our heads against a brick wall, Jacob. There’s nothing we can do.”
Reaching out a hand, Jacob lifted her chin until she could no longer avoid his gaze. The shame he saw reflected in her soft blue eyes was like a kick in the gut. It made something dirty out of the best thing he’d felt in his life. “We need to talk, Michelle. If for no other reason than the sake of our careers. Another show like this morning, and we’ll both be out of jobs.”
She nodded wordlessly, then entered the house, leaving the door open for him to follow. The first thing he saw as he trailed her to the living room was the picture of her husband she kept on the end table. He looked away, unable to face the other man’s smiling countenance.
“We didn’t do anything wrong.”
Michelle stood by the window staring out at the sunshiny day. “I did.” The words cut into him.
He walked over to her, taking her shoulders in his hands, pulling her back against him. “What I felt last night when I held you in my arms was like nothing I’ve ever felt before, Michelle. It was different, special.”
She jerked away from him. “I wonder how many other women you’ve said that to.”
The words were ugly, but he thought he understood why she’d said them. She was punishing herself. It wasn’t bad enough that she believed herself capable of infidelity. No, now she was accusing herself of betraying her husband for no more than a cheap fling.
He turned her to face him, holding her teary gaze with his own. “None. I’ve never felt it. I’ve never said it. I’d never have believed myself capable of forgetting the presence of my three daughters down the hall, Michelle. Last night meant something.”
She gazed up at him for a long silent moment as if some part of her desperately needed to know she meant more to him than all the women she’d seen come and go in his life over the years.
And then she pulled away again, crossing to sit on the couch. “It was still wrong, Jacob. There aren’t any pretty words to excuse the fact that I’ve been unfaithful to my husband.”
“Michelle, Brian was declared dead more than a year ago,” he said gently. How much longer was she going to hide behind a dead man?
“And you think that’s going to matter if someday when I’ve given myself to someone else—to you—Brian comes home to claim me? It’s happened before, Jacob. Just last year a man was found living in a remote village in Korea. He’d been declared dead, too. Instead, he’d been suffering from amnesia for fourteen years.
“The government’s decision that I’m a widow doesn’t prove anything, at least not to me. Brian could come walking in that door any day. And to what? To find another man in his house? And what if he got beyond that, was willing to forgive me and wanted me back? Who would have first rights? My husband or you? Who do I choose to hurt? Don’t you see, Jacob? It’s not just me or even Brian I’m thinking about. It’s you, too. I can’t be with you, not knowing if someday I’ll have to walk away with another man. I can’t do that to you.”
Jacob might have been willing to take the risk for himself, but he couldn’t stand to see Michelle tearing herself up this way. Her compassion, her loyalty, were qualities he’d grown to cherish in her. That they were the same qualities that would keep them apart seemed ironic. If he fought her on this, if he won, the prize wouldn’t be worth having. He’d be satisfying his own needs at the expense of hers.
“Can I ask you something? How can you be so certain he’s still alive?”
“Because he didn’t say goodbye.”
Jacob stared at her.
Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. “I don’t mean verbally. It’s just something I feel. Like he’s still holding on to me. I can’t get rid of the feeling he’s trapped in some nightmare somewhere trying every way he knows how to make it home. And I can’t bear to think of him finally making it back only to find that there’s nothing left for him here.”
“You’re something else, you know that?” he asked. He wanted to go to her, to hold her, but he wasn’t going to do that—to either of them. He reached into his pocket for his keys. “Brian Colby is one lucky man.”
She stood up. “Yeah, right. He has a wife who can’t seem to keep herself out of another man’s arms.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Michelle. I kissed you, not the other way around.”
“I could have told you to stop.”
“It was late. You were tired. And being with the girls has put us in an unusual situation.” Making excuses for what they’d shared went against his grain, but he’d do just about anything to take that look of self-reproach off her face. “You’ve been alone a long time, honey, and unfortunately your husband’s disappearance doesn’t erase your need to connect. Everyone has to have a little human contact now and then.”
She listened to him, but judging by her unchanging expression, he didn’t think she’d believed him. “What’s going on between us is more than ‘a little human contact.’”