Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(55)
“That means we would have to have conversations that were more than a number texted on the phone,” he told her. He liked the idea of hearing her voice instead of having to pull it from memory.
“I don’t know—”
“I want to be transparent. You asked that I don’t play you, which means you’ve been played before. I’ve thought about that statement a lot in the past month.”
When she spoke again, her voice had changed. “No one likes to feel used.”
“Was it your ex-husband?” he asked.
His question was met with silence.
“Okay, you don’t have to tell me.”
“No, wait . . . if you can talk about Corrie this early, I will discuss Paul.”
He waited.
“He didn’t care for me the way I did him.”
“But you were married.”
He heard her sigh.
“When was the last time a single man was elected to the governor’s seat?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s happened at some point.”
“Three times in the state of California. That’s it.”
“Are you saying—”
“I knew Paul wasn’t emotionally connected when our marriage started, Victor. But once we were there, and we spent more time together, he made me feel as if nothing would break us apart.”
“What did?” As soon as he asked the question he wanted to pull it back.
“Nothing catastrophic. He was busy being the governor; I was busy pretending to be the perfect wife in our cookie-cutter life. He asked for a divorce and I gave it to him.”
Victor couldn’t see anyone letting Shannon go that easily.
“This happened after he was elected.”
“Obviously.”
Paul used her to get elected. Dumped her once he was.
“I won’t use you, Shannon. I want to shed the title of clueless, but I might need some help learning how. I took your advice with my staff, and everyone is more relaxed around here. Before you, I would have ignored what everyone was thinking until it went away.”
“I’m glad it all worked out. But don’t give me credit. Your experience with Corrie had to help you realize what happens when you push problems aside.”
He started to argue her point and stopped. Victor hadn’t considered what he took from Corrie running away the way she did, but maybe Shannon was right. He’d been shocked that she’d taken off and oblivious as to why . . . until Shannon pointed out his faults.
“What makes you so wise?” he asked.
“I’m observant. Part of my profession as a photographer. I watch while others do.”
The phone on his desk rang. “My phone is—”
“I hear it. Go.”
It rang again.
He wanted to say something to make her understand what he felt just talking to her. “I’m going to call you again.”
She giggled. “Goodbye, Victor.”
“Until next time.”
Chapter Twenty
Shannon hugged Lori when she walked into her house later that day. “Thank you for coming.”
Lori handed her a bottle of wine. “I can’t do it empty-handed.”
Shannon graciously took the bottle and closed the door behind her. “I’m not sure if that’s good upbringing or a guilty curse,” she said.
“Both.”
She led Lori through the foyer and out the back door to the patio. “It’s such a beautiful day. I hope you don’t mind if we sit out here.”
Lori dropped her purse on the kitchen counter before following her. “I’ve been in this house five times since you moved in, and each time you entertain outside.”
“I like it out here. It’s the place I feel most comfortable.”
“Is there a reason for that? You mentioned something about selling last year.”
Shannon looked around at her midcentury modern home, made a little warmer by the darker wood tones than were normally seen in the style. “I picked this home two months after Paul executed the contract for divorce. Somewhere I thought maybe he’d realize he didn’t want to split, and he and I would spend time here together. This home is more his style than mine.”
“I should have guessed.”
Shannon crossed to her outdoor kitchen and found a corkscrew. She’d already set up glasses and a cheese plate for them to soak up the wine.
“When I think of all the pining I have done over that man. What a waste.”
“Some breakups are harder than others.”
The cork lost its hold on the bottle with a pop.
Shannon filled their glasses and lifted hers for a toast. “To positive change.”
Lori eyed her with speculation. “Since we’re drinking wine, I have to assume that means you’re not talking about pregnancy changes.”
Shannon sipped the cabernet and took a seat. Lori followed. “No. Nothing like that. I’m closing my business.”
Lori stopped midsip. “What? Where did this come from?”
“I don’t know. A combination of things, I think.”
“I thought you loved photography.”
“I do. Just not what I’m doing. It’s like this house . . . wedding photography is a compromise. I didn’t realize how much of my life has been a sellout until I watched Corrie run away on her wedding day.”