Page 116 of Forever Fascinating

Finally pulling onto her street, she slowed down and smiled, pointing.

“This is us…” she whispered, glancing at his face, to see he was already looking. Turning into the blacktop driveway, she pulled up beside the house and wondered what he was thinking, seeing it for the first time.

He had this strange expression on his face that was unreadable. The house wasn’t anything extraordinary, but it was hers and felt like home.

There was a deck on the front of the house with four steps up, complete with a tiny table and two Adirondack chairs to enjoy the sunshine. The side of the house had a second entrance, covered in a gabled awning, also with steps up to a small deck. A clothesline ran from the awning post to one of the massive chestnut trees in the distance, and had been there since she moved in.

Opening the car door, she smiled at him and whispered, “Come on…” inviting him inside as she got out of the vehicle. Walking up the steps, she smiled over her shoulder at him, and unlocked the door… only to feel him scoop her into his arms.

“Threshold,” he said quietly, causing her to chuckle in delight for a moment… as her smile faded.

Something was wrong.

“Matthew, honey, are you okay?” she asked quietly, the moment he set her down in the kitchen where the side entrance was located. His face was indescribable, as he looked at everything, his eyes darting around and taking in the place, making her feel a little nervous and self-conscious.

“Obviously this is the kitchen,” she hedged, stepping to the side, and pressing start on the coffee pot, hoping to make him at ease. “There’s a sliding door over there that leads to the back deck, overlooking almost an acre that is fairly cleared. You’ll see deer in the early morning, and there’s a tiny well at the back of the property that is closed off.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“A little over three years… why?”

“Just curious,” he replied, hesitating. “Where should I put my bag?”

“Let me show you,” she invited, taking his hand, and realizing that maybe it was just seeing everything, realizing that he had a home with her, or…

What if this was scaring him?she suddenly wondered, feeling a flutter of panic. Every time they met, it was basically on vacation, and this was like being slapped with real life, making her remember what he’d said in Greece.

… We are in paradise. There are no worries, no reminders of our normal lives, and it’s easy to get swept away… but what happens when real life comes crashing back? What does this look like then?

This was real life.

She had a home, a job, family close by, bills to pay, laundry, a yard to mow, and all the other minor details that came with being a homeowner.

“The living room is over here and it’s not very big, but it’s cozy. Down the hallway, the bathroom is off to the right, and this door leads to the basement. The bedroom is the last door on the right with laundry across the way…” she explained, walking into the bedroom door, and smiling.

“Two closets, remember?” she teased, trying to lighten things up. “I hope you don’t mind, but I got a little nightstand for your side of the bed, giving you a few more drawers… and…”

She stood there, feeling very real panic as she watched him set down his bag, looking even more and more distant.

“Matthew, what is going on?” she whispered painfully.

This wasn’t him.

He wasn’t all over her, hugging, kissing, and playful anymore like he had been at the airport. No, this man before her looked like her husband but the stress on his face was making his jaw tick and he hadn’t looked at her once since they’d walked inside the house.

“Can we talk?” he said quietly, still not looking at her.

“Of course.”

“How about that coffee… and maybe we can sit down somewhere?”

Jana felt her knees almost buckle as she nodded tightly, steeling herself for whatever was coming next. Had he decided he’d made a mistake? Surely not…

No, the loving man she’d married in Iceland was in there, but whatever was wrong had him completely shutting down… and she couldn’t help but picture Anna twenty years ago as Matthew’s father had left.

Was he about to walk out, too?

Silently, she walked into the kitchen, needing to step away for a moment before she felt herself breakdown. The sound of him emptying his pockets on the dresser was vaguely distant, just before she heard him padding down the hallway, realizing that his footsteps sounded hollow, as if he’d kicked off his shoes.

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