On Thin Ice (13 page)

He lifted her off him and stood to pace the patio. “I knew what your answer would be. I don’t know why I asked.”

“I don’t think I gave you an answer.” She bounded from the lounge and stood next to him. “What is this about?”

“Well, Wil, you’re amazing, aren’t you? A man asks you to marry him and you want to know what that’s about?”

“We didn’t discuss this.”

“No, that would be part of the element of surprise, now wouldn’t it?”

He turned from her and looked out over the lake and the tree whose lights glimmered on the waves of the water. Now he’d wished he’d planned it out better. He wished he’d had a ring and some romantic words planned out. But he hadn’t.

“Never mind. Let’s just forget I said anything.” He turned toward the house and yanked open the patio door.

Wil followed him inside. She stomped her feet on the mat by the door. “Why did you do that? Why did you ask me to marry you?”

“Why did you freak out?”

“I didn’t freak out.”

“Oh, you most certainly did.” He stepped to her, towering over her, but she didn’t back away. “Your forehead got all crinkled up and your eyes lost their shine. Most women jump up and down, kiss the man that asked, and answer with a yes.”

“Most women aren’t me.” She shoved her hands at his chest.

“No, Wil. That’s kinda why I like you so much.”

“Like me?” Her eyes shot open and her hands flew into the air.

“Forget it. I have things I should be doing. I’ll let you be.”

Malory stomped her feet again on the mat then toed off the fancy pair of boots she wore. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about this?

“There’s nothing to talk about. I knew the whole topic was a sore one for you, but I asked anyway. It’s my fault.”

“What do you mean you knew it was a sore topic?”

He raked his fingers through his hair and let out a breath. She was going to be even more pissed when he told her he’d overheard her conversation with his mother, but it had to be said so he told her.

Malory’s eyes opened wide and the subtle sexy trance look was gone. Fury filled them now.

She balled her fists on her hips. “You stood there listening to our conversation?”

“It just happened, Wil. I’m sorry.” He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t see what your problem is. Why does marriage upset you so much? You’re the one who was married. You must have found something good about it.”

“Did you miss the memo on my divorce?”

“So one ended, did you love him like you love me?”

Her jaw dropped. “I don’t think I’ve told you I love you. How conceited can you get?”

“Well, I love you. I thought there were some mutual feelings there. What did that ex-husband do to put marriage out of your mind?”

“Why does everyone assume Alan did me wrong?”

“Because if he was a good husband, you’d still be married to him.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and took in a deep breath. “What if marriage vows don’t mean squat? What if you say you love someone only to find out he isn’t the person you wanted to be with? What if one stupid error in judgment tears apart everything you held dear?”

She couldn’t let it go. “Wil, I was stupid. I can’t say I’m sorry anymore for dumping you at the prom to sleep with . . . whoever she was.”

“You ass!” She turned from him and started toward the living room. “It’s not always about you. Do you get that? Every problem or every solution isn’t on the shoulders of the almighty Christopher Douglas.”

“What are you talking about?”

She spun around toward him. Tears welled in her eyes, and she whisked them away with the back of her hand.

“I’m the one who wrecked my marriage.” She jabbed her thumb at her chest. “Alan left me because I had an affair.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Christopher had been blindsided before. He’d been knocked from behind and thrown head first into the boards. This was worse.

He stood there staring at her. She’d slapped him with something he simply couldn’t wrap his head around. Was she joking? She’d had an affair that ended her marriage?

Fifteen years he’d agonized about a meaningless quickie in the back of his car with someone who wasn’t Wil. It had taken fifteen years for her to speak to him again, and she still held it against him. Why wouldn’t she? It was a backhanded thing to do to the girl you loved.

Wil was the kind of person who did everything by the book. He’d grieved over the fact that she was going to be married for life and have a half dozen kids. Any hope of getting her back had ended.

Now her marriage ended because of her—the woman who didn’t have it in her nature to cheat. Because of her lack of judgment. Because of her lack of self-control.

“Christ, Wil.” He shook his head and frowned.

“I didn’t ask you to tell me you love me and I didn’t ask for you to propose to me.”

“Well, my mistake.” He stood and walked to the front door. “You know, Wil, you’re some piece of work.” He yanked open the door, his head reeling as if he’d been smacked with a hockey stick. She was right behind him. He turned back to her. “You’re right. You didn’t ask me to fall in love with you or to marry you. All I really wanted from you was forgiveness and I figured the rest would fall into place. But here you are.” He scooped his hands through the air as though he could somehow grasp the truth. “You’re no better than me. You never were. We were just the two kids in town with missing pieces, and we still are.”

“We are not the same. Nothing about us is the same. You had your dreams come true, Mr. Hockey Star. What did I get?”

“You know, Wil, getting what you always wanted isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. I didn’t have a simple life or a woman to love. I don’t have a family with four kids and a backyard full of plastic toys. You could have had that, Wil. It was what you wanted. You had your hands around it and you let go.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“You’re right. I don’t, and you don’t seem to want me to know.” He stepped out of the door. “Night, Wil. Happy Thanksgiving.”

Malory slammed the door so she wouldn’t have to watch him walk away. They weren’t the same, never had been.

She dropped down into the couch and sobbed. Why did he have to make it so hard? There were no plans inside of her to forgive what he’d done to her, just like there were no plans in Alan’s heart to forgive or forget what she’d done to him either.

When she’d decided to move back to Aspen Creek she’d hoped that being home would give her the strength to face her failure and regain her self-respect. Would she have come back had she known Christopher Douglas was going to be there to rub her face in her mistakes?

She sat up and brushed off her cheeks. Well, it didn’t matter. As of ten o’clock tomorrow morning, she’d own a bakery and she’d have what she needed. She didn’t need a man and she didn’t long for kids anymore. Well, not too much, anyway. If Christopher Douglas was going to be a fixture in town, he’d just have to be part of her life. But they didn’t have to be in love or get married. That hadn’t been in the plan.

Who was she fooling? It had always been her plan.

She fell onto the couch and pressed her face into the cushions.

She’d married a man, a decent and kind man, just to forget that Christopher had broken her heart. Wouldn’t it have just been better if she’d dealt with Christopher back then instead of burying herself into a life that hadn’t fit?

She flipped over on the couch and stared at the ceiling. That was exactly how it had always felt. Alan just didn’t fit. He wasn’t the least bit reckless or spontaneous. There was no electricity or fire between them. What he saw in her, she still didn’t understand. But he’d dulled the pain of losing Christopher.

Malory walked back out to the patio and brought in the glasses and the unfinished champagne. She walked to the sink, set the glasses in one side, and poured the champagne down the drain. What a waste of a celebration.

It had been a waste of time for her to hate Christopher too, she decided. Just like the champagne, she’d poured her life down the drain when she took a lover and lost her husband. Now taking that lover had cost her . . . well . . . it cost her the man she’d always loved. No one could ever have replaced him, and she’d been foolish to think it was worth trying. Alan’s heart was broken and now so was Christopher’s.

She turned off the lights in the kitchen and the living room and headed back to her bedroom. It was still Thanksgiving, and though she was feeling mighty thankless, she needed redemption. She had to try and set right her mistakes and then move on.

Making amends to the wrongs in her life would start with Alan. She didn’t love him. She knew that and so did he. But there was no solace in breaking his heart.

Her hands shook as she dialed the phone. She was prepared for a back lashing, but there was no answer.

Malory hung up the phone without leaving a message. What could she possibly say?

I’m in love with another man and now I’ve broken his heart too. I’m sorry I broke yours first. 

She wasn’t impressed with the pattern her life was taking.

Missing the joy that she should have had in her heart, she drove to the bakery after they had met with the lawyers the next morning. It had been a tense meeting and she still wasn’t sure why. Esther had signed her papers, collected her money and headed out the door. But Maggie all but threw down her check, signed her papers, and left without saying a word to Malory.

She opened the door to the bakery and stood there for a moment. There were no orders until Monday, but she knew there were plenty of things to do and now it was hers to do with what she wanted.

She flicked on the lights and it looked different. The shiny stainless steel tables were hers. The mixers, ovens, and even the clipboards on the walls were hers. Finally, the painful tightening in her chest let go a bit. She’d start with the bakery and make it something that no one would forget. Those people who came only to window shop every year would come into the store and leave remembering her pastries and breads. They’d come that far to order their cakes and to have donuts on the weekends. A smile finally crossed her lips. It would all be okay.

The door at her back flew open and she whirled to see who’d come in with such violence. Malory spun to see Maggie headed right at her. There was a sneer on her face and her lips pursed so tightly they were barely visible.

“You ruined your marriage? You?” She jabbed her finger at her.

Malory shuffled backward to put some space between her and Maggie. She snorted out a breath of disgust. Leave it to Christopher to head to his mother and tell her all of the things she’d done to make him angry.

Maggie waved her hand in front of her the way she did when she was trying to collect her thoughts. She was mad and it showed in the wrinkles on her forehead down to the way she was tapping her booted foot.

“What you did was wrong. How could you have hurt him like that?”

“I’m sorry.” Malory threw her hands up in the air. “He asked me to marry him.”

Maggie drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “What?”

“Chris. He asked me to marry him, and I didn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .”

“Wow.” Maggie threw her head back and let out a husky laugh. “So that’s why he’s so pissed.” She pulled off her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. “And here I am ready to ream your ass over cheating on Alan. Which, by the way . . .” She wagged a finger toward Malory. “I am disappointed and extremely upset about. But now—wow. I didn’t know about Chris’s proposal.”

Her anger, though now diffused, explained her shortness with Malory that morning at the lawyer’s office. She was glad to see it had simmered down. “Something tells me we’re about to have a heart-to-heart. I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

“Sounds good, honey. I’ve got the restaurant covered. Let’s talk.”

Malory brewed the pot of coffee and washed two mugs that she’d found on the shelf. She wondered how many of these talks they’d had. They’d started when Malory was very young and they never stopped. There were talks about how to handle people telling her all the time that they remembered her mother and how much she looked just like her. She didn’t know how to handle that. They talked about boys, boobs, periods, and the latest and greatest shoe fashions.

Maggie was the first person Malory called when she and Alan had decided to get married, but Maggie was sworn to secrecy. As far as Harvey knew, he’d been blessed with the information first and he’d passed it to Maggie.

The phone always rang at just the right time, and it was always Maggie, when Malory needed a pick-me-up when she lived in California. Maggie would visit every year at least once or twice. Alan adored her and that pleased Malory. She’d needed Maggie in her life; after all, Maggie was her replacement for her mother. With Alan’s blessing she was able to keep that feeling of belonging. She wondered now if he’d have any respect for the people she loved—or for her.

Malory poured the coffee into the mugs and sat down on one of the stools around the prep table. She slid a mug toward Maggie, who smiled sweetly at her.

“Okay, let’s go backward. What happened in California?”

Malory swallowed hard. She knew at some point she’d have to face all the things she’d done, felt, and lived. But admitting she’d done wrong was hard. Especially after she’d spent so many years hating Christopher for the very same reason.

“I was unhappy. My marriage, my friends, my work were all tedious and boring. Everyday was the same and I felt lost. Alan was never home.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why I thought it would ever change. He wasn’t a homebody like me. He never was. He was a professor and the university was his home. He didn’t enjoy being home with me.”

“Wil, I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would. Really, when we met he spent twelve hours a day on campus. We could hardly get time alone without my being in his office. Then things went smoothly, but it was because I adjusted my life to fit his. When I got the bakery open, then I was gone twelve hours a day, but they didn’t fit his twelve hours. So we never saw each other except when he came into the bakery for a muffin and a cup of coffee.”