Mackenzie O’Brien needed to win back her husband, and it wasn’t going to happen in the drab, worn-out jeans and oversized tees she had made her uniform over the last year.
Knowing this, her resolve strengthened as she retrieved her credit card—the one she reserved for emergencies—from her wallet and paid for the new wardrobe her best friend, Sabrina, had helped her select.
“Thata girl,” Sabrina cheered, eyeing the point-of-sale jewelry on the counter. “Get this, too. The emerald will magnify your eyes—not that he’ll be lookin’ at them with that elephant nestled in your cleavage.”
Mackenzie blushed as the woman ringing up her purchases chuckled.
“Ah, someone is on the seduction train.” The petite woman carefully folded the thong panties Sabrina had tossed into Mackenzie’s pile.
Mackenzie wished the floor would open and send her into a different kind of hell. One that would burn less than the embarrassment.
But if she couldn’t handle some gentle teasing from a stranger, how would she find the courage to seduce her husband into loving her again? If she wouldn’t move out of her comfort zone when it came to her clothing, how would she find the courage to beg for his forgiveness?
Purchases final, Mackenzie grabbed the bags and started to her car, imagining Gabe’s reaction when she appeared at his door.
Tomorrow was their seven-year anniversary.
And one year since the day she had walked out.
“Are you absolutely sure he’s not seeing anyone?” Mackenzie needed the extra reassurance from Sabrina, who had been keeping tabs on Gabe in Mackenzie’s absence. Mackenzie had forbidden Sabrina from giving her the updates at first, but now that her mind had cleared she was grateful for the knowledge.
She never would have shown up here again if he had moved on.
“Positive. I’d have heard about it.”
“I don’t know if I should be doing this.”
Sabrina stopped walking and waited for Mackenzie to turn back to her. “Listen, you. When you chose me as your maid-of-honor, you made a promise to me. A promise that I would be able to stand by and watch an epic love story for the rest of my life. Since my own marriage is a total dud, you have to give me something here. Got it?”
Mackenzie frowned and studied the cracked sidewalk and the slushy puddles left over from the last snowfall.
“I wish you could work things out with Chad. Have you tried therapy? It’s really helped me figure some stuff out.”
“Don’t be giving me advice when your solution was to high-tail it out of here. I can’t leave his sorry ass because he’d wither away on the couch and die. But if I can help in even a tiny way to bring you and Gabe back together, the corner of my heart where romance has been archived will jump for joy. Give me some hope, will ya?”
Mackenzie crushed Sabrina in a best friend embrace, squishing her as the clothing bags crinkled.
“I need him, Sabrina. But what if this past year has proven to him that he never needed me?”
“No way would that happen. You get yourself dolled up, do your hair and makeup, make yourself irresistible. He might act pissed off when you show up, but trust me, I work in the psych ward. People use anger to cover their inner desires all the time. You’ve got to hammer your way back into his heart. He’s your one true love and you’re his—it’s literally impossible for him to not need you.”
Mackenzie allowed Sabrina’s words to play over and over again in her head for the rest of the day, all night long while she snuggled in her childhood bed with the kitties she had adopted before coming back to town, and as she choked down her oatmeal the next morning.
Married for seven years.
Together for seven years before that.
Running away for one year couldn’t undo all the love they had. The life they had built together. Could it?
She buried her insecurities, baked a batch of his favorite molasses cookies, worked for over an hour on her hair and make-up, and hurried out of the house before she could change her mind.
***
The house looked the same, right down to the “Welcome To Our Happy Nest” wreath Mackenzie had made when they first bought the house. It was tattered around the edges and the “y” had fallen off the end of “happy,” but he hadn’t burned it in a bonfire.
Maybe there was hope.
His car sat in the driveway, just like she had known it would. He always made sure to be home by five. He had set up the perfect family-raising schedule for himself, anticipating the day when there would be a family.
They had chosen to open a printing business specifically for the promise of family-friendly hours.
She reached for the doorknob, thinking she’d let herself in. Act natural. Like she had never left.
As if about to touch a hot burner, she jerked her hand away from the knob.
Letting herself in would be disrespectful.
Though she hoped he would let her back into his life and their home, she had left it behind. This was his life now, and she had to earn her way back in.
She rang the doorbell, smiling at the birdsong ring she had installed on their fifth anniversary.
Another piece of her he hadn’t changed.
Heavy footsteps ran to the door, pounding on the hardwood floors they had sanded and polished together.
He swung the door open. His hair was longer, his eyes the same dark seas that had swept her away in high school and kept her anchored through everything.
Until she had floated away, unable to see past the storms that had brewed.
She forced her lipstick to take over the show. She had spent hours picking out the perfect shade, and wound up with a satiny peach cashmere that the lady at the counter had sworn went perfectly with her skin-tone.
He didn’t say anything. Not even a simple greeting. She stood there with her push-up bra and her low-cut shirt and her long blonde, freshly curled hair the only barrier between her and the barely-above-freezing temps, smiling like a wannabe cover girl as she stared at his unnatural handsomeness. Realizing the grim state of the picture she presented, she began to squirm.
She should say something.
Anything.
But what was there to say?
Why the heck had she decided to come here?
She licked her desert-dry lips and began to chew the inside of her bottom lip. Sabrina would chastise her for showing her insecurity, but Sabrina wasn’t here and the insecurity monster was in full control.
Gabe leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged through his long-sleeved shirt, and she wondered if he had been working out. He had always been strong and sexy, but there was a harder edge to him.
Words. She needed words.
He broke into a smile—a cheek creasing, eyes twinkling, teeth gleaming smile that made her heart go on strike for a beat before dancing in her chest like a child on a sugar high.
She had worried for nothing. He was going to welcome her back.
She allowed a smile to break past the barrier of self-loathing. Her lips, accustomed to frowning for way too long, seemed confused and began to quiver.
Her emotions began to feel like quicksand, pulling her down and leaving her desperate.
“Oh good, you’re back.”
Did those words really come from his mouth, or were her drowning ears playing tricks on her?
She wanted him to open his arms. To pull her in like he used to. To smell her hair. She had gone back to her old shampoo—the one he loved. She hoped he’d notice, and that his olfactory memory would bring him back to the days when they were happy. When they had lived for each other.
He didn’t open his arms, though. He didn’t smell her hair.
His eyes hardened around his laugh-lined edges as his smile turned taunting.
“Now I can get my divorce.”