When her silence continued to stretch, Evan cleared his throat, the sound a low rumble through the phone. “I guess you’re tired. We’ll talk later. Have a nice day with your kids tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll, uh, see you Wednesday?”
She told herself this was the perfect time to break it off with Evan—whatever “it” was. She’d gotten through the past week without seeing him, though not without thinking of him almost constantly. It would be better all around if they kept their future interactions focused solely on the scholarship.
Polite. Pleasant. Platonic.
It wasn’t as if either of them had any real investment in this...well, she couldn’t call it a relationship. Was it an affair? That didn’t sound right, either.
“Renae?”
“It’s going to be hectic at work next week, making up for these days off,” she prevaricated.
She should have known he would have wanted a more specific response. Evan wasn’t one to settle for vague hints. “Does that mean I won’t see you Wednesday?”
Say the words, Renae. End it now.
She couldn’t do it.
“I’ll let you know,” she said instead.
Though she sensed his dissatisfaction with her nonresponse, he said only, “All right. Good night, Renae.”
“Good night.”
She set the phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, leaving the room dark and silent. Turning onto her side, she could just see the outline of the empty pillow beside hers. She tried to remember how Jason had looked sprawled beside her in the darkness, but her memories had grown hazy with the passing years. She had never spent a night with Evan, never slept with him beside her—and yet it was all too easy to envision him lying there.
Guilt flooded through her, though she told herself it was an irrational reaction. Jason would not have expected her life to end with his. They had been so very young.
Would she feel this conflicted about anyone other than Evan? Was her self-recrimination entirely rooted in the fact that she’d been unwillingly intrigued by Evan even before she’d married Jason?
She reminded herself, as she did so often, that she had never been unfaithful to Jason, that she had committed herself fully to making their marriage work, that she had loved her husband and had expected to spend the rest of her life with him. One impulsive kiss had not been a betrayal of him, nor had she spent the two years of her marriage fantasizing about Evan, though perhaps she had thought of him occasionally. The problems she and Jason had encountered had had nothing to do with anyone outside the two of them.
Despite those reassurances, she still believed she should keep an emotional barrier between herself and Evan. Partially because of those old conflicted emotions. Partially because of the inevitable complications between herself and Lucy. Partially because she hesitated to introduce anyone new into her children’s lives without certainty about how that change would affect them.
But mostly because she was afraid for herself, she admitted finally, though she hated feeling like such a coward.
Every instinct inside her warned that Evan Daugherty could break her heart if she wasn’t careful. And she’d had enough heartache in her past.
Maybe she’d been a little lonely at times in the past few years, but overall she’d made a comfortable, contented life for herself and her children. What kind of fool would she be to risk what she had achieved on a man who excited her, bewildered her, tempted her—and utterly terrified her with the seductive power he held over her?
Chapter Seven
Renae thought she had prepared for the crowds on the day after Thanksgiving—“black Friday,” as it was known in retail parlance—especially since she wasn’t trying to hit the big sales. Still, traffic was even more hectic than she had expected when she drove Lucy and the kids to a movie theater that afternoon, where they then stood in a long line with other holiday-hyper children. By the time the theater lights dimmed and the family-friendly film began to play, Renae gave a long sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to go back out for another hour and a half or so.
Fortunately, the crowds had thinned some by the time the movie ended. Renae figured the predawn shoppers had crashed for the remainder of the day with Thanksgiving leftovers and televised football games.
“We’re still going ice-skating, aren’t we, Mama?” Leslie reminded as soon as she and her brother were strapped into the backseat of the car. “You promised.”
“I remember.” Exchanging wry glances with Lucy in the passenger seat, Renae started the car.
Several of the twins’ friends would be gathering at the River Market Pavilion downtown that evening to admire the decorations and skate on the outdoor ice rink installed there through the holiday season. Glancing at the clock, Renae noted that they still had an hour before everyone was to meet. They’d be early, but there wasn’t time to go home first, and she supposed they could stroll through the Market Hall until the others arrived, though the twins would surely beg for snacks from the many internationally themed food vendors who operated there.
Leslie and Daniel settled for cups of hot cocoa, topped with whipped cream and a little peppermint cane. The cocoa looked so good that Renae and Lucy each had a cup, as well, drinking them at a table inside the open Market Hall, which buzzed with shoppers, diners and visitors. Doors led out from the hall to the pavilions where the ice rink was now set up, but which hosted farmers’ markets and merchandise vendors in the warmer months. Through the glass, they could see people already circling inside the rink.
Renae loved coming to the farmers’ markets on Saturday mornings for fresh produce, and the kids always enjoyed coming with her to gape at the colorful displays of fruits, vegetables, herbs, breads and flowers. Many of the shoppers brought dogs on leashes—though Renae had refused to bring irrepressible Boomer into the crowds—and there were always street musicians and clowns and other entertainers to hold the twins’ attention while Renae filled her market bags.