Page 67 of Dream Lake

He smiled without amusement.

“What’s going on?” Darcy demanded. “Why are you pretending to be someone you’re not? I know you better than anyone. I’ve lived with you. Who is this woman you’re seeing? Is she a Mormon or Quaker or something?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“This is bullshit,” Darcy said, but somewhere in the snapping tension of her voice, he heard a bewildered note. He felt more compassion for her in that moment than he had in the sum total of their marriage. Once he’d read or heard something to the effect that it was never too late to save a relationship. But that wasn’t true. Sometimes too much damage had been done. There was an invisible line of “too late” in a marriage, and after it had been crossed, the relationship would never thrive.

“I’m sorry,” he said, watching her drain a glass of wine the way he’d wanted to a few moments earlier. “You got a raw deal, marrying me.”

“I got the house,” she reminded him smartly.

“I’m not talking about the divorce. I’m talking about the marriage.” Part of him warned against lowering his guard. But Darcy deserved the truth. “I should have been a better husband to you. I should have asked how your day was, and paid attention to the answers. I should have gotten us a damn dog, and made this place seem like a home instead of a corporate suite at the Westin. I’m sorry I was a waste of your time. You deserved a lot more than you got.”

Darcy stood and approached him. Her face had turned red, and to his astonishment he saw the glitter of tears in her eyes. Her jaw was trembling. As she drew closer, he had the wildly uncomfortable thought that she might try to embrace him, which was not at all what he wanted. But her hand shot out, and the sound of a slap rang through the kitchen. The side of his face went numb, then turned to fire. “You’re not sorry,” Darcy said. “You’re not capable of it.”

Before he could say anything, Darcy continued with low-voiced vehemence. “Don’t you dare make me out to be the poor little mistreated wife, pining for love. You think I ever expected love from you? I wasn’t stupid. I married you because you could make money, and you were good in bed. And now you can’t do either of those things. What’s the problem, you can’t get it up now? Don’t look at me like I’m a bitch. If I am, it’s because of you. Any woman would be, after being married to you.” She snatched up the wine bottle and her glass, and stormed off to the guest bedroom. It seemed the entire house vibrated from the slam of the door.

Slowly massaging his jaw, Alex went to lean against the counter, pondering Darcy’s behavior. He had expected just about any other reaction than the one he’d gotten.

The ghost came to stand beside him, a glint of friendly sympathy in his dark eyes.

Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“When you started to drink the wine? I’m not your conscience. It’s your battle. I’m not going to be hanging around with you forever, you know.”

“God, I hope you’re right.”

The ghost smiled. “You did the right thing, telling her that stuff.”

“You think it might have helped her?” Alex asked dubiously.

“No,” the ghost said. “But I think it helped you.”

***

Darcy left without a word the next morning. Alex spent most of the weekend working on the house at Rainshadow Road, clearing out the rest of the attic and insulating a knee wall. On Sunday evening he texted Zoë to ask if Emma was at the cottage and if everything had gone well.

“Got here just fine,”Zoë texted immediately.“She loves the cottage.”

“Need anything?”he couldn’t resist texting back.

“Yes. Making apple pie. Need help with it tomorrow AM.”

“Pie for breakfast?”

“Why not?”

“ok,”he texted.

“gn”

“gn”

Althoughgnwas standard text shorthand for “goodnight,” it could, in certain contexts, be interpreted as “get naked.” Alex’s mind summoned images of Zoë’s clothes dropping to the floor, and it set off a deep pang of lust.

The feeling was quickly supplanted by a nervous thrill emanating from the ghost.

“Chill,” Alex said curtly. “Listen, when we go there tomorrow, if you’re emoting all over the place, I’m hauling ass out of there. I can’t work like this.”

---