Page 4 of Pieces of Perfect
“That couldn’t have been how you felt when you were sleeping with her, or it would never have happened.”
“We’ve been over that,” he said in exasperation. “I didn’t mean to…to stray. I just got confused, made a mistake. Anyone can make a mistake.”
He was right in one regard. Theyhadbeen over this, and she didn’t understand why they had to go over it again.
She made a show of checking her phone. “I’m afraid I can’t talk about this today.”
“But you’ll consider it?” He stepped forward. “God, Lorelei, how long is it going to take for you to forgive me?”
She stared up into the face she’d once found so handsome. She’d thought she’d spend the rest of her life with this person. The fact that it hadn’t worked out had been devastating—made all the worse because of her background. She’d believed, with him, she’d finally had a real family, a forever home.
But he’d broken what they’d had, broken it so badly she couldn’t fix it. She knew that, even if he didn’t. “Idoforgive you,” she said. “I'm just not going to get back into the relationship.”
“Why?”
She actually felt some sympathy for him. That in itself showed her how far she’d come—and that she was finally over him. “Because I don’t love you anymore.”
He stiffened as though she’d slapped him. “It’s because of that boy you met in Tahoe, right? You’re still in contact with him.”
He liked referring to Finn as a boy. He thought it was a clever putdown. Finn was five years younger than she was, nine years younger than Mark, but he was a better man than Mark by far. “I talk to him occasionally,” she allowed. But since Tahoe, he hadn’t offered her anything more than friendship. “He’s not what broke up our marriage, and you know it.”
“I’ve already taken responsibility for that. And I’ve apologized. What more can I do?”
“Pick up and move on—while being the best father to Lucy you can be.”
“Iama good father,” he said, suddenly combative. “I’ve always been a good father.”
A good father would not have done what he did, but she didn’t point that out. “And I appreciate it. Lucy may not realize it yet, but she does, too.”
“So what about me?” he asked.
She hiked her purse up higher. “What about you?”
“I’m not happy with Francine. I’ve never loved her, and I don’t love her to this day. Living with her isn’t going to change that.”
“Then I’m sorry you ever slept with her,” she said.
He muttered something laden with expletives under his breath. Lorelei knew whatever he’d said wasn’t flattering to her. But at least he got in his car and left.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him turn out of the neighborhood. But she didn’t let this most recent encounter upset her. That was more proof she was doing better. She had to be grateful for the emotional stability and hope he could overcome the divorce, too.
“You okay?” Mr. Rashid called from over the hedge that separated her house from his.
She hadn’t realized they’d had an audience. The neighbors didn’t know the details of the breakdown of her marriage—she’d certainly never shared them—but it would be hard to miss the fact that she and Mark had struggled to get along. Mr. Rashid had even called the cops once, when Mark was screaming obscenities at her and throwing things in the garage the day he moved out.
“I’m okay,” she replied and sent him a smile for looking out for her before hurrying into the house.
CHAPTER THREE
Lorelei usually kept herself so busy she didn’t have time to miss what she’d had with Mark. During the days, she worked as a checker at the local grocery store to make ends meet. At night, when Lucy was in bed, she tried to create new recipes or promote her cookbook, which had come out in April. But now that summer was here and Lucy was out of school, Mark and Francine were taking her every other week, which left Lorelei alone during those evenings.
She tried to make good use of the time. She was still incredibly excited about her cookbook—loved seeing it in Barnes & Noble and other stores. She’d dreamed about creating something like that for years but never really imagined she’d be able to do it. She probably wouldn’t even have tried, if not for the encouragement of Reagan and Serenity. And if not for the publishing connections Serenity, a true crime writer, had generously shared…
Thank goodness shedidtry, because now it was a reality, and the money she’d made from it was largely what she was using to pay Mr. Rutledge. Her editor had asked her to create a follow-up focusing on salads using homegrown sprouts and other herbs, as well as low-oil, no-preservative salad dressings, so she’d beenworking on that. There was plenty she should be doing tonight, while she had the time—if only she could concentrate. After Mark’s visit, she’d been feeling too disgruntled and out of sorts to accomplish much and was wondering if she should finally put up a profile on one of the online dating sites.
Maybe she could meet someone. She doubted there was anyone who could make her feel the way Finn did, but that would become a self-fulfilling prophecy if she didn’t try to get out there in the dating pool.
She used her laptop to navigate to Match.com, but ultimately couldn’t bring herself to load the necessary pictures and write about her interests. Building that profile smacked too much of selling herself—as though she was a product—and that had never felt right to her. She didn’t think she’d be very successful at touting her best points, anyway. She’d been through so much she was more tempted to post a disclaimer:damaged goods.
