“Out of this office?” he asked, his mind a jumbled mass of confusion.
“No.” She shook her head.
Somehow he hadn’t thought so. But nothing else made any sense.
“Out of this house.”
“I own this house.” It was the only thing he could think of to say.
“We both own it,” she reminded him gently.
“Right.” We, as in the two of them together. “So?”
“I want you to move out.”
She’d said it again. Almost as though she meant the incredible, unbelievably painful words.
He wanted to go to her. To touch her. To connect with the woman who’d been a part of his life forever. But she was almost a stranger as she sat there so composed.
So unafraid.
While his life was crumbling around him.
“Why?”
“I think we both need you to.”
“I don’t need it.” There. She was wrong. They could end this nonsense.
“I think you do.” Her face was filled with many things. She still cared about him; he could see it in her eyes. Though he looked, he couldn’t find any spite or anger or any of the other negative emotions that could have explained the words she was uttering. What he did see was much more frightening. Conviction.
“Why?” he asked again. He felt completely unprepared. Completely unlike himself.
“We’ve been drifting for years, Will, going nowhere. You said so yourself.”
“Maybe I was wrong.”
“I don’t think so.”
In all honesty, neither did he, but that didn’t mean—
“We’ve talked about this several times over the past few months, but we’re still just drifting. Nothing changes.”
He opened his mouth to tell her she was wrong. But his conviction didn’t match hers.
“You still aren’t sure what you want, what you feel,” she told him. Her voice wavered, giving Will hope.
“I know I care about you.”
“Caring and being in love are two very different things.”
“Lots of marriages are based on caring.”
“I want love.” She paused, then said slowly, “And you aren’t even sure you want to be married to me.”
“What about you?” he asked. “You’re almost eight months pregnant, Becca. You shouldn’t be here alone.” She was terrified of losing him, wasn’t sure she could cope by herself. Sari had told him all about it.
“In the big city, I’d agree with you,” she said, “but here in Shelter Valley all I have to do is holler and I’d have fifteen people on the doorstep. That’s one of the many things that are so great about living in this town.”