Page 33 of Finding Amanda

Unexpected tears burned. Hadn't she already cried all the tears she had for Mark? A few years ago, if anyone had told her she'd be seeking a divorce today, she would never have believed it. But she'd seen the disgust on his face when she'd told him about Sheppard. She'd felt him pulling away almost from that first moment.

And wasn't that one of the reasons she'd written the memoir, to make him understand? She'd thought when he knew what she'd gone through, he wouldn't blame her for her affair with Gabriel. He'd be able to forgive her.

How wrong she'd been.

She swiped her sleeve across her cheeks and tried to quell the tears. She could still remember clearly his expression the night he read a particularly graphic scene. The once crisp pages were gripped in his white-knuckled fists as he read about how Gabriel had used her and manipulated her. Amanda watched, horrified, longing for Mark's arms around her, his voice in her ear.It wasn't your fault.

Instead, he dumped the papers onto the coffee table, muttered a quick, "I'm taking a walk," and stalked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

When he'd returned almost an hour later, he'd told her how compelling the scene was and encouraged her to keep writing,acting like it was some sort of therapy for her. Great, he thought she was a good writer. Not so great, he couldn't meet her eyes.

That night, she'd cried herself to sleep, wishing she could take it back. Why had she ever trusted him with the truth?

Mark fell asleep on the couch, numbing his feelings with ESPN.

When she finally finished the memoir, Mark was happier than she was. They'd dropped the girls off at Chris and Jamie's that snowy night the previous winter and headed to her favorite restaurant. He'd ordered a bottle of wine and toasted her accomplishment. "To putting it behind us and moving on."

"I'm going to publish it."

He gulped the sip, and his face turned bright red. She spent the rest of the evening enduring his lecture as he tried to talk her out of her decision. It was okay for him to know her dirty secrets, but to share them with the world?

Shame had warmed her cheeks more than her glass of Merlot.

Weeks passed before they'd talked about it again. He'd acted like he was worried about Sheppard, but Amanda knew he wanted to keep the story secret to protect himself and his reputation. He didn't want their friends to know what kind of a woman he'd married. He couldn't bear to give his mother more reasons to hate her. The more he denied it, the more it hurt.

Why couldn't Mark understand? Her last two years in high school were dedicated to keeping secrets. She'd lied to her parents, the few friends she had left, and to everyone she knew. She lied so often, sometimes she forgot the truth.

She'd fallen in love, and she hadn't been able to tell a soul. She'd lost her virginity, and she wasn't free to share it with anyone. Sometimes she'd felt trapped with Sheppard, sometimes she'd thought if he left her, she might actually die. But Sheppard hadn't just been her lover, he'd been her psychiatrist,her only confidant. There'd been nobody else in the world she trusted.

She'd carried the shame for too many years, and she couldn't bear it any longer. After she'd told Mark, she'd told her parents and her older brothers. She'd been most afraid of her father's reaction, but he'd pulled her into his arms and held her for a long time. She could smell his musky cologne, feel his shirt buttons against her cheek. Her father apologized, blaming himself for her vulnerability, though she'd assured him it wasn't his fault. Her brothers directed their anger at the psychiatrist. The weight of the guilt lifted with her family's support.

Mark had watched the scene from the far corner of her parents' living room like a sentry on duty, his hands balled into fists. As comforting as her father's embrace was, it was her husband's arms she'd longed for.

She couldn't worry about Mark's reaction anymore. She'd been hiding from Sheppard for twelve years, and she was sick of hiding. It was time to expose the truth, time to find freedom from her past, and time to move on.

And if Mark couldn't handle it, well . . . If he really loved her, he'd understand.

That was the crux of the matter. He didn't really love her. He never had. In a way it was her fault. His comment the previous day stuck with her—"I know as much as you're willing to share with me." It was true. She'd been hiding behind a mask for years. The problem was, every time she lifted the mask a little to let him in, all she got from him was anger and condemnation. No wonder she stayed hidden.

Maybe if she'd removed the mask in the beginning of their relationship, things would be different.

Yeah, they'd be different, all right. He never would have married her in the first place.

Amanda grabbed her purse and keys andmade her way to the garage. She wouldn't regret her marriage, but she wasn't going to stay with a man who could barely stand the sight of her. Not when she had other options.

She drove to the school, picked up the girls, and took them to the library. Even for October, it was freezing. The sun had gone down and the wind had picked up by the time they walked out, stacks of books in their hands. Amanda and the girls dashed to the sedan and piled inside, slamming the doors against the bitter cold.

"Is it going to snow, Mommy?" Madi asked.

"Not tonight, sweetie."

When Amanda parked in front of the dance studio, Mark's truck was already there.

He climbed out of the driver's seat and made his way to the back door of her car as she shifted into park.

"Hey, little lady," he said, giving Sophie a kiss. Madi scrambled out of Sophie's side of the car and fell into her father's arms before Amanda had even turned the car off. "Hey, peanut!" He scooped up their second daughter and propped her on his other hip like she weighed nothing. "Did you girls have a good day at school?"

By the time Amanda stepped out of the car, Mark had both girls halfway to the door.

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