Laney walks through the shop one last time before locking up for the day. The space, with the addition of refrigeration units and display fixtures, is looking like a legitimate business.
She’s getting in her car when Sonia calls in a panic. “You will not believe this. Sylvia has defaulted on all her wedding contracts. She claims her social life is suddenly too busy for her to do wedding flowers, but you and I both know it’s because you quit on her. Please, tell me you can take over.”
“Absolutely,” Laney says without hesitation. “I’m grateful for the business. You can count on me. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Sonia lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Those are the words I needed to hear. Let’s meet first thing in the morning to go over the contracts.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be at Love-Struck at nine.”
As she heads off to the grocery store, Laney mentally calculates the money she stands to make on the weddings. With this unexpected extra income, she’ll soon be able to hire an assistant. She’s postponing her grand opening until she’s ready for regular store hours. That time might be sooner than expected.
Laney picks up a few items for dinner at the market and continues home. She’s carrying her grocery bags to the kitchen when she spots Hugh talking on the phone on the terrace, pacing with a tumbler of whiskey in hand. On closer inspection, she realizes he’s not on the phone. He’s talking to himself.
After returning home from Love-Struck last night, Hugh had gotten drunk and cried like a baby over his father’s cancer diagnosis. When she attempted to console him, he’d mistaken her sympathy for affection and tried to seduce her. She’d fought him off and locked herself in the guest room. They haven’t spoken since.
Laney puts away her groceries and begins working on dinner. She’s cooking shredded chicken for tacos when Hugh comes in from outside. She braces herself for his wrath, but he’s surprisingly cheerful.
“Let’s grab the girls and go to the club for dinner,” Hugh says, refilling his tumbler with ice.
Laney gestures at the pan with her wooden spoon. “But I’ve already started the tacos.” She has no interest in going out to dinner with him, and she doesn’t want to give him false hope about their marriage.
“Why not save it until tomorrow night?”
“Sorry. But the girls will be ravished when they get home from practice. And I’m sure they’ll have homework. I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood, though.”
Hugh pours whiskey over his ice. “I’m trying to look at the bright side of the situation.”
“Good for you. What is the bright side?”
“When Dad dies, I’ll inherit one-fourth of his shares of Love-Struck stock. Since I already bought Ada’s interest, I’ll be the majority shareholder.”
“Better not let your father hear you talking like this,” Laney says, stirring in a package of taco seasoning and adding the recommended amount of water.
“You don’t get it, Laney. This will have an enormous impact on our lives. I’ll be making way more money. We can buy that bigger house you’ve been dreaming about.”
Laney turns the stove off and faces him. “I don’t dream of bigger homes, Hugh. I dream of happy ones. Your father’s diagnosis changes nothing. Our marriage is still in trouble.”
“I’m working on that.” Hugh gives her his little boy innocent look, which no longer works on her.
“We need marriage counseling, not dinner at the club.”
“You know how I feel about that subject.” Hugh drains his whiskey. “I despise tacos. I’m going to the club for dinner without you.”
She eyes his empty glass. “You’ve been drinking. How’re you getting there?”
“Chester’s picking me up. We’re meeting the others at the club. My friends heard about Dad, and they want to comfort me. At least someone cares about me.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Why did you ask me to dinner when you already have plans?”
“Because I knew you’d say no.” He pinches her cheek hard. “You’re predictable, Laney. Boring as hell.”
A car horn sounds from outside. “There’s Chester now.” Hugh turns toward the hall. “Don’t wait up for me.”
She calls after him. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Laney, vowing not to let him get to her, returns to her meal preparation. She has all the taco fixings on a platter when the girls arrive home fifteen minutes later from field hockey practice. As predicted, her daughters are starving and scarf down their dinner. She asks them about their day, but they’re cranky and say little.
Now that they’re getting older, her girls are growing apart from her. Laney isn’t resentful about this natural progression like some parents. She’s grateful they’re well-adjusted kids—straight A students with plenty of friends. Although taking care of them once occupied much of her time and their absence has left a void in her life, she’s blessed to have discovered a new career to fill the vacuum.
After cleaning up from dinner, Laney pours herself a glass of pinot noir and goes to her desk where she spends an hour pinning images of arrangements to Pinterest boards to help brides identify styles of flowers for their weddings.
Laney retires to the guest room around nine. Changing into her pajamas, she climbs into bed and calls Bruce. Even though they talk on the phone every night, they never run out of things to say. When they find themselves on opposite sides of an issue, they respectfully agree to disagree. Tonight, their conversation lasts for over two hours. She tells him how the shop is shaping up, and about Sylvia defaulting on her wedding contracts. And he talks about the progress he’s made revamping the vineyard’s varietals.
Laney feels like a teenager again, whispering into the phone so her parents can’t hear her in the next room. Where’s the harm in having romantic feelings for him if she doesn’t act on them?
At eleven o’clock, the front door slams shut, and feet pound the stairs. “Laney!” Hugh bellows from outside her room.
Laney whispers to Bruce, “Hugh’s home. I’ve gotta go.” She jabs at the end call button and tosses the phone on the bed.
Hugh bangs on the door. “Open this damn door right now.”
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she goes to the door and cracks it open an inch. “Be quiet! The girls are asleep.”
He staggers into the door, forcing it open wider. “This is my house, and I’ll talk as loud as I damn well want,” he says, his voice growing even more shrill. “You’re my wife, and I’m tired of you depriving me of sex.” Grabbing a handful of her hair, he pulls her face close and presses his mouth to hers. He tastes like whiskey and cigars.
Laney gags and shoves him away. “Get off of me,” she says in an angry whisper.
He paws at her pajama top. “Bitch, I need to get laid. Shut your mouth, and open your legs.”
“Are you crazy? The girls can hear you.” Over his shoulder, Grace appears in her bedroom doorway. “Grace is watching you.”
When he turns to look at Grace, Laney shoves him out of the room and locks the door. She slips back into bed, pulling the covers beneath her chin. When she hears someone calling her name, she takes a few seconds to realize it’s Bruce on her phone.
She pats the covers until she finds her phone. “Bruce! Are you still there? I thought I disconnected the call.”
“You must have missed the end button, because I heard everything Hugh said just now. He verbally assaulted you, Laney. He threatened to rape you. You’re in imminent danger.”
“You’re overreacting. Hugh is a bully, but he’s not a rapist.”
“He’s out of his mind, drunk. No telling what he might do.”
“Hold on a second.” She slides the phone beneath her pillow and goes to the door, pressing her ear against it. When she hears nothing, she peeks out into the hall. The other bedroom doors are all closed.
Retrieving her phone, she slips beneath the covers. “He’s gone to bed.”
“Still, I’m staying on the phone with you until you’re sure.”
“If you insist,” Laney says, turning off her lamp.
Laney, comforted by the dark, pours her soul out to Bruce about how desperately unhappy she is in her marriage.
“You have to leave him, Laney.”
“I can’t now, not until after . . .” She catches herself. “Not while his father is ill.”
“The timing will be even worse after Daniel dies. Hugh will be in mourning, and your guilt will prevent you from leaving him. You’d need to get out now, Laney. Before something terrible happens.”
“Maybe you’re right. But in a few weeks. I’m a business owner now. I have to think about my reputation. My customers will think I’m a horrible person if I abandon my husband in his time of need.”
Bruce’s breath is heavy on the other end. “I understand your point. But I hope your sacrifice doesn’t cost you your life.”