She felt color flood into her cheeks, because mentally she’d been doing exactly that. “We’ve been married for twenty-five years. There is nothing—nothing—we can’t fix.”
“I’m having an affair.”
The words were like a solid punch to her gut.
“No!” Her voice cracked. And that was how she felt. Cracked. Broken. As if she were a piece of fine china he’d flung against the cabinet. “Tell me that isn’t true.”
She was going to be sick. Right here in a pretty little French bistro, in front of an audience of around fifty people, she was going to be sick.
She could imagine how the kids in her class would react to that.
Did you barf, Miss?
Yes, Connor. I barfed, but it had nothing to do with the duck.
David looked worse than she felt. “I didn’t plan it, Grace.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She had a thousand questions.
Who is this woman? Do I know her? How long has it been going on?
In the end she asked only one. “Do you love her?”
David rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “I—yes. I think so, yes.”
She almost doubled over. Not just sex, then, but feelings. Strong feelings.
It was the ultimate betrayal.
She stood, although her legs didn’t seem to agree with the decision. They felt like water. But she didn’t want the local community to witness any more of this conversation—not for his sake but for hers and Sophie’s. How much had people heard already? Was she going to be stopped in the supermarket?
I hear David doesn’t love you? That must be tough.
“Let’s go.”
“Grace, wait!” David fumbled for some bills and dropped them on the table without counting them.
Grace was already halfway to the door, the box filled with her Paris plans tucked under her arm. She had no idea why it seemed so important to take it with her. Maybe she didn’t want to leave her dreams lying around. The happy summer she’d spent months planning wasn’t going to happen. Instead they’d spend the time dividing up property and belongings and consulting lawyers.
The reality of it swamped her.
David was the love of her life. He was the solid foundation upon which she’d constructed her wonderfully safe, predictable world. Without him the whole thing would crumble.
She felt as if she was having an out-of-body experience. Her mind was elsewhere but her body was still here in this bistro, going through the motions. Smiling, leaving—Thank you, yes, the meal was delicious—as if her life hadn’t just been torn apart.
David pressed his hand to his chest again and shook his head when the waiter offered him his coat. “Grace, I’m not feeling too good—”
Seriously?
“Oddly enough, I’m not feeling too good either.”
Did he expect sympathy?
“I feel as if—I can’t—”
David staggered and then collapsed, sending a trolley and a coat stand flying. The weight of him hit the floor with a sickening thud.