25

“CLAIRE . . .”

I tried to close the door, but Stephen blocked it.

“Stephen, I told you—”

“Please. Just give me five minutes, that’s all.”

Even in one of his custom-made power suits, he looked noticeably unpolished. Lines of weariness around his eyes and mouth had no business tugging at my heart, but they did. And they unleashed a deluge of hurt I didn’t know what to do with.

I steeled myself. “What could you possibly say that you haven’t already said?”

“Five minutes,” he repeated softly. “Please, Claire.”

I opened the door, and he stepped inside. His sedan sat behind Alex’s truck, and images of him with her filled my mind.

“I just want to tell you again how sorry I am that this happened,” he said, racing to get the words out. “That I let it happen. It was stupid, but I meant it when I said things were over between Susan and me. They were—for me. But not for her, obviously. And I allowed myself to get dragged back into something that . . .” He shook his head. “I should never have been in that car with her.”

He paused as though waiting for me, but I simply stared.

“You’re not going to say anything?”

“What do you want me to say, Stephen? That I agree with you? That you shouldn’t have been in your car with her? Where it happened is hardly the issue. That it happened is. And that you obviously wanted it to.” He shook his head, but I hurried on. “She would never have come to Atlanta without some kind of encouragement from you. And you gave it to her. You said as much. And she got what she came for.”

“No, she didn’t. Claire, I’m not with her. I’m not going to be with her. It’s over, truly over this time, I promise.”

“That’s your business now, Stephen. Not mine.” I took a steadying breath. “We have to focus on how to tell Maggie. She’ll be here in a couple of weeks, and I think telling her in person is best. Both of us, so we can answer any questions. Knowing her, she’ll have a few.”

His eyes went glassy. “Claire, please, can we not talk about this? I called Richard and got the new counselor’s name. I’m seeing her this afternoon. Maybe you could join us and—”

“There’s no reason, Stephen.” I searched my husband’s eyes, so familiar to me and yet, in that moment, so foreign. “I am done. You betrayed my trust, broke your vows, and—” Tears choked the words. “You violated our marriage bed. I cannot live with you that way anymore.”

Grief seemed to wash over him, and what little hope had been left in him faded to nothing.

The rumble of a truck drew my attention. Alex’s crew in the driveway. When I looked back, Stephen was staring at the daisy I’d tossed on the table earlier.

He looked back at me, then quickly wiped his eyes. “I need to get some things. Bill told me I could use the apartment.”

The thought of Bill Burgdan knowing what was going on sickened me. For all I knew, the entire firm was privy to it. Though I would’ve been surprised if Erin, Stephen’s assistant, had been the one to tell. Even having just met her, gossip didn’t fit that first impression.

But what concerned me more at the moment was Stephen seeing the condition of the bedroom. I didn’t want him to know how thoroughly he’d broken me. If he did, he’d find a way to wield that to his advantage.

“They’ve already started working upstairs,” I said. “I’ll drop some of your things with the apartment concierge this afternoon when I’m running errands, and you can come back this weekend for the rest.”

He nodded slowly as though the full weight of his actions was only now sinking in. I opened the door wider, eager for him to leave. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself together. Twenty-two years of marriage now over, in a blink. And Maggie . . .

Dread gripped me by the throat. How was our precious daughter going to deal with this? And at a time in her life when she was supposed to be focused on her world, her future. She would blame me. She always blamed me. But this was not my fault. And there was no way around it, our divorce would hurt her, something I never wanted to do.

But God had made provision for someone whose spouse had broken his covenant. And though it brought me no joy, I was grateful he had.