Hannah's List (Blossom Street #7)(31)

For a few seconds, she thought she sensed a yielding in him. But if that was the case, it had been all too fleeting.

"Don't you get it?" he said, his voice low. "Do you honestly think it was just the money?"

She blinked in confusion.

He took a step backward. She advanced, unwilling to let him escape. If he had something else to tell her, something that had never come up before, she was going to insist on hearing it.

"What are you saying?" She hated the way her voice quavered.

"You don't want to know."

"You're wrong."

"Fine." He paused. "Frankly, I'd hoped to spare you this."

She reached out and grabbed the doorknob, instinctively knowing she'd need its support.

"Did you ever wonder why I didn't fight the divorce? I figured it was for the best for more reasons than you realize. There were other women, Leanne."

She felt the color drain from her face. It would've hurt less had he thrust a knife in her abdomen. Then she frowned, suddenly sure of one thing. His words were nothing but a ploy, a trick to convince her to forget him. "That's a lie." Another lie.

He hung his head. "I wish it was. Now you know. You saw me as this decent, honorable man and the truth is, it was all an act. You're better off without me." He looked at her. "We aren't good for each other, Leanne."

She found it difficult to breathe. "I still don't believe you." He was sacrificing himself and she wouldn't allow him to do it.

"Like I said, believe what you want, but know this." He spoke slowly and distinctly. "I don't want to see you. I don't want you here." He glanced over his shoulder, the gesture deliberate.

Leanne blanched. He was signaling that there was someone inside the apartment, waiting for him. A woman. She couldn't hear anyone, but that didn't prove a thing.

What if this wasn't a lie?

Leanne clasped her hands, because she desperately needed to hold on to something and that something had to be herself. No one else was going to shore her up. She was on her own and had been from the moment Mark was arrested.

"Get on with your life," he added. "I have."

Leanne stiffened her spine. "Funny you should say that."

He locked eyes with her, which he'd avoided doing since he'd opened the door.

"I met someone," she told him.

"Good."

"He's the husband of one of my former patients. She died.... I was her nurse."

He said nothing.

"I ran into Michael at a picnic. I've been doing a lot of volunteer work. It keeps me occupied."

He looked down at his scuffed running shoes as though bored.

She ignored his rudeness. "Michael was one of the other volunteers at the event."

"And this interests me why?"

"We talked."

"I hope he asked you out." Again he gave the impression of boredom.

"Is that what you want, Mark?"

He raised his shoulder. "Go out with the man, okay?"

She stared at him. He didn't mean what he'd said. He couldn't. "You've changed," she whispered, trying to gauge the truth about his feelings. This was what she'd feared--the man she'd fallen in love with ten years earlier no longer existed. The one who stood in front of her was a stranger.

"Trust me, a year in prison will change any man."

She swallowed hard.

"I don't want to be cruel," he went on. "I appreciate that it took a lot of courage for you to come here today, but it's too late. What we had is over. Just accept that."

Clenching her fingers so tightly they hurt, she struggled to find the right words, but he spoke first.

"Don't let yourself get bogged down in useless sentimentality. We aren't the same people we once were."

Leanne felt more confused than ever. "What you said earlier isn't true, is it? You were always faithful." She had to believe that, because the alternative was too devastating to consider.

He didn't answer.

As she blinked back tears, he stepped inside and quietly closed the door.

Stunned, Leanne stood there, rooted to the spot, while she took in what had just happened. She closed her eyes and felt in the strongest possible way that Mark was on the other side of the door, his heart beating in unison with hers, crying out in pain, the same as hers.

After several minutes, she turned away. She climbed carefully down the stairs and got into her car. She had to make several attempts before her hands stopped trembling enough to insert the key.

She had her answer. The time had come to reconcile herself to the fact that she was divorced.

If and when Michael Everett phoned to ask her out, she'd respond with an unequivocal yes.

Chapter Twelve

o anything special this weekend?" Ritchie asked as we left the gym Monday morning.

"DOnce again my brother-in-law seemed to have some kind of intuition about what was happening in my life, almost as if Hannah was whispering in his ear.

"Why do you ask?" I probably sounded more defensive than I meant to because Ritchie turned to look at me, arching his eyebrows as though surprised by my reaction-- or overreaction.

"I guess that touched a nerve," he said with a grin. "So tell me what's up."