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IT WAS NEARLY TEN BY the time Greg stood up from his spot on the couch.
Katrina stared up at him. “So we’re ok?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We’re ok.”
“You’re sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m just ...” He let out his breath. “I don’t know what I am. I’m glad you told me. And obviously I’m glad you stopped things when you did, but ...” Another sigh. “It’s still a lot to take in, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah.”
“But I don’t want you to feel guilty.”
“Too late for that.”
“Have you told anyone else?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know anyone who would understand.”
“Yeah, me either. But you know what? Nancy was saying the couple that owns that B&B, he’s a retired pastor and she’s a retired counselor, and they’re personal friends of hers. She said if there was ever anything either of us wanted to talk about, they’d probably be willing to listen and give some advice.”
“Some advice would be nice,” she admitted.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
She twisted her ring on her finger. “Where did you go earlier?”
“To find out where he lives.”
It was strange how they had spent hours talking about a man that neither of them was willing to name.
His admission didn’t surprise her. “Did you find him?”
“No. And it’s a good thing, I suppose. At least I didn’t end up in jail.” He cracked a smile, which Katrina tried hard to return.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“You can stop apologizing now. I’m just glad nothing happened.”
Nothing happened? That’s not the way she would have put it. But maybe that was the only truth her husband could accept at the moment. Maybe it was best if he thought of it in concrete, black-and-white terms like that.
For Katrina, she knew something had happened.
A lot of somethings.
Some of them shameful, some of them not.
Some of them even good.
Like the fact that Katrina had told him to stop, and he had listened. After decades of letting others do her thinking, do her planning, even do her romancing for her, she’d finally learned how to seize control of her own destiny.
She’d finally found her voice.