Angel's Rest(65)

Gabe swallowed a sigh, then glanced at Nic. “If you need to stop, just let me know.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Whoa, three whole words. Almost a record.

After she’d overheard his phone call to Pam, all sense of ease between them had disappeared. Their relationship headed downhill. On skis. On lightning-fast skis on fresh powder. Now she avoided him, seldom met his gaze, and spoke to him primarily in monosyllables. Her smiles never reached her eyes. It made him feel like a heel.

He’d attempted to talk to her, to explain about his relationship with Pam and her family, but that had been a big fat fail. Really, what could he say? What excuses could he give? She’d heard what she’d heard—and it had been the truth.

Frustration nipped at him. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t warned her. He’d been totally straight with her. Now he was the villain her girlfriends wanted to castrate, and he felt like he’d kicked a puppy.

The woman had lost her spirit, and he knew it was his fault. She wasn’t the same Nic who had stood up to him in her kitchen or danced with him at the school gym. He’d bet that if he listened hard enough, he could hear her heart breaking.

He stole a glance at his new wife and noted her stoic expression. His hand tightened on the steering wheel. He’d given her a set of wedding rings at the courthouse earlier. He’d spent a pretty penny on the stones. She’d accepted the rings with a tepid smile, thanked him politely, but never looked at them once he’d slipped them onto her finger. Nic was suffering some real buyer’s remorse about this marriage while he enjoyed one more round of guilt. Guilt over Jen and Matt and the accident. Guilt about causing his sister-in-law additional pain. Now guilt over Nic and the baby she carried. He was never free of it. He was a guiltaholic. Wonder if there’s a twelve-step treatment program for this. If so, sign me up for the meetings.

He was tired of this. Bone weary of feeling guilty every second of every day.

He glanced at the odometer. Two-thirds of the way there. Should be just enough time for him to clue her in on the arrangements he’d made. He lifted his water bottle from the cup holder, took a long swig, then said, “Open the glove box, Nic. Take the envelope and put it in a safe place. I’ve executed a new will, added you and the child as beneficiaries. Same thing with my insurance policies—the information is in there. So is my attorney’s name. I opened a bank account in your name and there’s a couple of credit cards.”

Her mouth formed a silent O. “Credit cards? Gabe, I admit my finances have been tight, but I don’t need all that.”

“Look, it’s no big deal to me. My profession pays well, and one of my technology investments paid off big-time last summer. Money is not a concern of mine.”

She removed the papers from the glove compartment, looked at the numbers on the bank statement, and her eyes went wide and round. They rode another five minutes in silence before she said, “Thank you, Gabe. I appreciate your making changes to your will and insurance in order to protect our baby’s financial future.”

For crying out loud, she sounded like a commercial. It annoyed him. The whole day annoyed him. He didn’t want to live like this.

Gabe waited until he’d negotiated Sinner’s Prayer Pass to say, “You need to give me a clue here, Nic. Please tell me what I can do to make this right. Look, I know the phone call hurt you and—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me say this,” he snapped. “You’ve dodged talking about this with me for more than a week. It’s surprised me, Nic. I didn’t take you for a coward.”

Her jaw went tight and she stared straight ahead, but she remained silent, so he pressed on. “I’m sorry you overheard my conversation with Jennifer’s sister. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of your friends. But this is no way to start a marriage. Where do we go from here, Nicole? I need a little help here. I don’t know what you want.”

She was quiet for a long time before she replied. “That’s part of the problem. I’m not sure what I want. I’ll be honest with you, Gabe. I feel like my world has been turned upside down and I don’t know which way is up. Sarah says it’s hormones, but that seems like an excuse. I’m … sad. I think I need a little time to adjust to everything.”

He spied a herd of bighorn sheep in the road ahead, braked, and honked his horn. He didn’t know what to say to her. “Nic, I’ll say it again. I’m sorry.”