Page 88 of That Reilly Boy
As I walk up the steps, across the porch, and through the front door of the house I now own, I wait for the sweet flood of triumph, or at least a sense of satisfaction. I’ve waited for years to take Marcus and Gin Gamble’s precious house away, and today I accomplished that goal. The papers are signed.
It’s mine.
But the taste of victory is soured by an aching awareness that, as of this moment, the clock has started ticking down on my marriage to Cara.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Cara
I’m surprised to see Hayden’s car in the driveway when the driver he hired drops us off in front of the house. I know Hayden legitimately has some pressing things on his plate, work-wise, and the plan was for him to drive up for the closing and then go back to the city.
I’m even more surprised when we haven’t even gotten up the porch steps before Sherry’s car pulls up and stops out front. She honks the horn and waves, her grin visible even from the porch.
“Sherry and I are going to go see my house,” Gin says, waving back at her friend. “We need to measure for curtains and figure out where things will go.”
It feels abrupt—she hadn’t mentioned this plan to me—but Hayden had clearly been right. With the painful part behind her, Gin is excited to move on. “That sounds fun. Do you have the keys?”
She pats her handbag and then kisses my cheek. “And you and your husband can celebrate in peace.”
She’s gone before I register she’d called him my husband and not that man this time. It’s progress.
Of course, progress doesn’t matter at this point. Before long, Hayden will be my ex-husband and his former mother-in-law’s opinion of him won’t matter.
And on that depressing note, I go inside, only to find Hayden in the living room, obviously waiting for me. “I thought you were going back to Boston.”
He shrugs. “I am, but I wanted to see you before I go. Where did Gin run off to?”
“Sherry picked her up and they’re going to roam around the new house. She seems happy now that it’s over.”
“I hope you are, too. I know it’s been hard, but it’s done. Your mother—and therefore you—are free of this house.”
“It’s not over yet. Sure, my mother is excited about her new house, but that’s because this house is mine now, as it was always meant to be. But when we decide to end this fake marriage and she finds out the house will be yours and yours alone, it might all blow up in our faces.”
“There won’t be a thing she can do about it, legally.”
I shake my head, not sure why I expect him to understand. “Maybe that’s all that matters in your world, Hayden. But she’s my mother. And Sumac Falls is my home. You can go back to Boston, but I’ll be stuck living with the fallout.”
He closes the distance between us and takes my hands in his. “That’s not a worry for today. Or tomorrow. Judging by the amount of stuff Gin owns, it’s probably not even a worry for next year.”
He gets the laugh out of me, and then wraps his arms around me. I relax into the hug, soaking in the strength of his warm body. His hands don’t wander. He doesn’t nuzzle my neck or try to kiss me. Hayden simply holds me until my breathing calms and the tension seeps out of my muscles.
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to the diner and have cheeseburgers and salty fries.”
“I had a cheeseburger and salty fries for lunch,” I mumble into his shoulder. “It was a big lunch, actually, but I wouldn’t mind dessert for supper.”
“I’m always up for dessert.” He pulls back and drops a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
“No, you need to head back to Boston. What about Penny?”
“Penny is being taken care of until I get there. Even if we take our time over dessert, I won’t be too late getting back to the city.”
I feel like I should argue more. He’s had a long day, too, and he still has that drive ahead of him. But I’m reluctant to let him go, and not only because I really don’t want to be alone in the house right now.
Signing the papers has triggered a hurricane of mixed emotions swirling around in my head. Relief that I’m not going to lose any more sleep worrying about the house falling down around us or calculating just how low a thermostat setting we can tolerate in the winter. There’s also loss, not only of the only home my family has known for generations, but with a resurgence of grief for my dad. Sorrow for my mother. Elation I’m almost free.
And seriously conflicted feelings about the impending end of my fake marriage.
Even though I’ve known from the jump ours is a marriage in name only, it’s hard to imagine my life without him. Once the divorce is behind us, will I ever see him again? Based on the last almost-two decades, probably not.
