any of that love right now.”
“You will. The Claire I love can deal with anything.”
“Maybe this is the one thing she can’t.”
“I’ll never believe that.”
“Dean.” She sighed. “Go home and let me sort through this.”
“We’ve never been apart.”
“Yes, we have. It just never felt like it.”
He blew out a hard breath. “I don’t guess I have a choice.”
“No.”
He pointed to the letters. “Read every one of those and you’ll feel our love again. We can overcome anything, even having a child at our age.” He leaned over and kissed her lips. She breathed in his scent and forced herself not to respond.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll call tomorrow.”
“No, don’t. I’ll phone when I’m ready to talk.”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t say anything.
“Dean,” she called as he turned away. He quickly glanced at her. “Please cancel our plans for tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
“Tell Nita and Joan I’ll call them later.” She was passing the buck, but she couldn’t handle a conversation with anyone.
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it.” Slowly, he walked out of the lake house.
She wanted to call him back, but that wouldn’t solve anything. As the door closed, she knew their lives were changing, and she didn’t feel it was for the better.
They loved each other. There was no doubt in her mind about that. To save her marriage she had to feel that forever kind of love she’d felt at eighteen.
How did she do that when she felt empty, afraid and lost within herself? There was only one thing she knew to do.
She picked up a letter.
CHAPTER FOUR
November 26, 1986
BUNNY INSISTED on watching the girls so Claire could make one of the home games. She sat in the stadium, her eyes on her husband. To her he was the best player on the field. She stood and cheered when he caught the ball. She bit her nails when it seemed to go right through his hands.
Suddenly a crashing tackle left him lying on the turf, writhing in pain, his leg bent at a strange angle. Jumping to her feet, she made her way to the field, her heart thumping so hard it was about to pound out of her chest.
As she reached the sidelines, an official stopped her.
“That’s my husband,” she cried, as the medical staff crowded around Dean.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but—”
An ambulance backed into the stadium and she broke away. No one was keeping her away from him. Another official caught her before she reached him, but she jerked free, running to where Dean lay on a stretcher.
She fell to the turf by his side. “I’m here, honey.”
“Claire—”
She stroked his face. “Shh.”
The paramedics picked up the stretcher and she crawled into the ambulance with him. No one tried to stop her. She rode to the hospital holding his hand. He was in a lot of pain and tried not to show it.
“Claire…”
“Hush. You’ll be okay.” But she wasn’t so sure. His leg wasn’t straight and had soon swollen to three times its normal size.
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