All They Need(41)

She lay on her side, legs curled up, doing her best not to read too much into the nightmare. She’d had a lot of them in the early days after she and Owen separated, and she’d thought she was past them.



Apparently not.

Fragments from her dream floated back to her: Owen sitting beside her in the car, hands tight on the steering wheel, his silent, oppressive anger pushing her into her seat; Owen yelling at her, again, for getting it wrong, pacing up and down in their bedroom; her standing in a ballroom full of beautiful, glittering people, yet feeling utterly isolated and alone.

A delightful highlight reel from her marriage, although she’d left out a couple of doozies. Maybe they were still lurking in her subconscious somewhere, waiting to disturb the rest of her night. Lucky her.

She wondered idly what had come first—her becoming entwined in the bedclothes, or the dream with all its attendant memories of how trapped she’d felt in her marriage. Chicken or egg, dream or entanglement.

It probably didn’t matter. And perhaps it was timely for her to remember exactly how bad it had been, given the arrival of Flynn in her life and the conversation she’d had with her sister tonight. Perhaps it was a damned good thing for her to revisit exactly how powerless and trapped she’d felt. She’d been bound to her marriage in so many different ways—by expectation, by her vows, by pride, by her inability to fully comprehend how ugly things had become between them, by crippling self-doubt that had been fed by years of her husband’s criticisms, large and small.

Like water on a rock he’d worn her down until she’d started to believe the things he said to her. That she was stupid. That she was responsible for his failure to make headway with his political ambitions. That she deliberately went out of her way to anger him. That she’d never even tried to learn how to fit in with his world.

She sighed heavily. So much anger and unhappiness. For both of them, really. She wondered if Owen was any happier now that he was free of the wife who had “done nothing but hold me back.” She doubted it, because he would always have his rapaciously ambitious mother’s voice in his ear, urging him to be better, do better, and Diana Hunter would never be satisfied. Ever.

Mel almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

Finally she drifted off to sleep. When she woke again it was morning. Judging by the state of the bedcovers, she’d barely moved. She showered and wrapped herself in her Thai silk dressing gown before making her way to the kitchen. She was trying to decide between porridge or peanut butter toast when the doorbell rang. She answered the door to find Flynn standing there.

“Flynn,” she said, her voice high with surprise.

“Hi. I hope it’s not too early.”

His gaze drifted over her dressing gown. She was instantly acutely aware of the fact that she was naked underneath.

“No. Of course not. You’re here for your keys, right?” she said, one hand instinctively lifting to the neckline of her robe to ensure it wasn’t gaping immodestly.

“Yeah. When I thought about it again this morning I realized there was no point sending a courier when I needed to get the car sorted out, too, so I grabbed a couple of hours to make it happen.” He gave her what could only be described as a polite smile.

She stepped away from the door, waving him inside. “Come in.”

She led him to the kitchen and grabbed the keys off the counter, handing them over. “Would you believe they were sitting there all night and I forgot to give them to you?”

“Thanks.” He offered her another polite smile.

She frowned. Maybe she was reading too much into things, but he seemed different. More distant. Less warm. Not that that was a bad thing, all things considered, but it seemed out of step with the way they’d parted company last night. The way he’d kissed her cheek. The way he’d looked at her.

“Also, I was hoping there was a mechanic you can recommend locally. My regular guy’s in the city and I don’t particularly want to have Gertie towed all that way.”

“There are a couple of workshops in the village. Barry Cassidy has a good reputation. And the other guy is my father.”

“Well, that makes it easy. Obviously I’ll go with Barry Cassidy.”

Her mouth curved up at the corners. “Naturally. That seems like the obvious choice.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” His smile was more genuine this time and some of the stiffness had gone from his face.