there in twenty,” Jim told him, and hung up.
No questions asked.
* * *
EMMA PUSHED THE button on her car visor, activating the automatic garage-door opener at four o’clock Saturday afternoon and paused in the driveway. Rob’s silver Ranger was still parked inside.
The tall, lanky, boyishly good-looking man came out of the kitchen and into the garage before the outer door was fully raised.
She had a choice. Back up and speed away. Or stay.
Emma pulled into her garage.
“You didn’t change the locks.” Rob was there, opening her door for her. “I spent the night praying that you’d give me another chance, Em. This was the first time since we got engaged,” he said, his tone pleading. “I swear to you, it won’t happen again. Ever.”
She got out of the car, pulling her purse out with her.
“The look on your face, when you came in the bedroom yesterday…”
Emma made her way to the door and into the house.
“I will never forget that look, Em. Or forgive myself for putting it there.”
He hadn’t moved out. Everything was just as she’d left it the day before. Rob’s shot glasses were on the second shelf of the window alcove over the sink. His espresso machine still sat on the counter. And his shoes were underneath the dining-room table—right where he always left them.
Most everything in the townhome—the furniture, the dishes, the mortgage—belonged to her. He’d sold his stuff when he’d moved in because they hadn’t needed two of everything.
“You’re in the same clothes you took with you yesterday.”
She put her purse on the closet shelf. Not far from Rob’s golf clubs. He was that sure of her.
She was that predictable.
“You have clothes at your mother’s house.”
She’d called her mother on her way home, letting Rose know that she’d stayed downtown and had a long rest. She’d assured Rose that she was fine and that she’d call her later. She’d opted out of joining her for dinner and a movie.
Now she wondered if maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea. If she had someplace to be, something she had to do, she could leave without running away.
Chris had had all morning to contact her at his hotel room, but he hadn’t. And he hadn’t returned.
Unlike Rob, she knew when someone was giving her ample time to get out.
“You’ve been out all night.”
Rob’s tone turned accusing as he followed her into the living room, down the hallway and into their shared home office. She had no idea what she was going to do there, but it was a better choice than the bedroom, where she really wanted to be.
Or the shower, where she needed to be.
“Where were you?”
He was standing right behind her. Hounding her. Emma turned and stared him right in the eye. “That is none of your business.”
“You’ve got a hickey on your neck.”
Emma raised a hand to cover the mark. She’d forgotten. Chris had been inside her—for a second time—when she’d admitted that she’d never had a hickey in her life. What had been a hazy recollection crystallized as though a high-powered beam had been pointed at the memory.
“You were with another man!” The astonishment in Rob’s voice riled her. He didn’t have to sound so shocked. Like the idea of another man wanting her was impossible to imagine.
“You’re no better than I am!”
He had that wrong. She’d waited until she was free before she had sex with someone else.
Rob reached out, taking hold of her shoulders, pulling her to him. “I’m sorry, Em. I understand. And I forgive you. I’m actually relieved.” He looked down at her, a sympathetic smile on his lips. “You don’t know how hard it’s been living with someone as perfect as you are. There’s no way I could ever measure up. But now…”
“What do you mean, as perfect as I am?”
“You know!” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You live completely on the white side of black and white. You don’t ever mess up. Or do anything unless you know you won’t make a mistake. You have such high standards you make it impossible for a guy to live up to you.”
Emma stepped back forcefully enough to make him let go of her. She’d been crushed that Rob had been unfaithful. He appeared glad that she had been.
“Who was he, Em? Anyone I know?”
More nauseated than ever, Emma walked out of the office. “Get out, Rob. Now. Take your things and get out. The locksmith is on his way.”
“You don’t mean that.” He placed a hand on her arm. Gently. “Please. Let’s talk. We can get through this. I know we can. I know you, Em.”
He did know her. Better than anyone ever had. There was a lot of value in that. A lot of worth.
Chris didn’t know her at all. And didn’t want to.
If she let Rob leave, she’d be alone. Really alone. Did she want that?
“Get out.” The words came from deep within. “The Lock Exchange guy is going to be here soon. Whatever’s still here by the time the locks are changed, you lose.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Yes, actually, I do.” Emma shook inside, scared to death but determined.
She’d done the unimaginable the night before. She’d left a bar with a man she didn’t know. She’d shed her clothes for him, spread her legs for him. And then she’d been left to wake up alone.
Somehow she had to make something good come from that. She had to make the night count. She had to become a changed woman.
“I’m warning you, Em. If you do this, if you really force me out of here, I won’t be back.”
She stood still and tried not to cry.
“I mean it.”
He took a step toward her.
“I know you mean it.” Emma could hardly believe the firmness of her tone. “I am changing the locks and anything that’s left behind, you lose. You’ve had twenty-four hours.”
“Fine, then. But mark my words, you’re going to regret this.”
She faced him one last time, aware of how she must look in yesterday’s clothes with last night’s rumpled hair, smeared makeup
