Page 47 of Finding Amanda

Another long silence. Amanda figured Pat was trying to stifle a triumphant shout. Finally she said coldly, "He finally wised up, did he? Realized he married the wrong girl?"

Jealousy seared her heart like a cold roast in a hot Dutch oven. Pat had always thought Mark should have married Annalise. High school sweetheart-turned-supermodel, the girl had been winking at Amanda from magazine covers for tenyears. Beautiful face, perfect body, and, to hear Pat tell it, delightful disposition.

Amanda swallowed her bitterness. "Something like that."

"Well, I knew it wouldn't last."

"Was there anything else you needed, Pat?"

Click.

Good riddance.

Fifteen minutes later, her phone rang again. Checking the Caller I.D. this time, she saw it was Mark. "Hello?"

"You told mymother?"

She sat up straighter. "Youdidn'ttell your mother?"

"Why would I?"

"Why wouldn't you? I'd think you'd be thrilled to give her some happy news."

"What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you'd already told her. How was I supposed to know? And why didn't you?"

"Because . . . you know why. I knew she'd be . . . I didn't want to hear it, okay? The last thing I ever want to do is prove my mother right."

"Fine, then you can burst her bubble, since she's quite sure you wised up and left me."

Silence ticked between them. She felt herself drawing further and further away from him and wondered illogically if he were driving out of town. The silence lengthened, the space between them filling with memories and disappointments.

When he finally spoke, his anger was gone, his voice low. "I told her, Amanda. I told her you kicked me out, and I told her I was going to do whatever I had to do to win you back. I told her I loved you and I always would. And when she told me I was a fool, I hung up on her."

Amanda’s heart stuttered.

"I didn't tell her we'd separated because, as far as I'mconcerned, this is temporary. I don't want to lose you. Ican'tlose you."

Her throat ached with tears. "It's too late, Mark. I'm sorry." Another long silence. She couldn't stand it. "I'm sorry."

"I have to go."

This time when she heard the click, Amanda laid her head in her hands and wept.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mark had chosen the apartment complex because it was the closest one he could find to his house, as far as he could bear to be from his wife and daughters. It wasn't very big, but what it lacked in space, it made up for in dinginess. Didn't matter. He wasn't going to be here long. That's what he told himself every day.

It's too late.Her words rang in his ears.

He tossed the folder Chris had given him onto the kitchen table. He had to focus on keeping Amanda safe. Later he'd figure out how to keep Amandahis.

He'd gotten his furniture at a cheap, second-hand shop, furnishing the entire apartment for less than five hundred dollars. Nothing matched, but who cared? The whole apartment would fit in the living room of his house.

Her house. Whatever.

Knowing he'd need to concentrate, he didn't flip on the TV. Instead he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, sat at the dented, scraped kitchen table, and slid open the manila envelope.

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