In Your Dreams (Blue Heron #4)(68)

Moved back. He didn’t like the sound of that.

“Which I guess is what I deserve.”

He sat down next to her, and she reached under her skirt and pulled off her stocking with a businesslike motion, which surprised him. He would’ve expected a striptease. Her skin was cold and smooth, the joint fairly swollen. He felt a pang of sympathy.

“Did you ever tell people why we split up?” she asked as he wrapped her ankle.

“They figured it out, Hadley.”

“Jack,” she began, her voice husky. “If I could undo what I did—”

“I appreciate the thought,” he said. “There. You’re all set.”

“I know you’re still hurt—”

“No, not anymore.”

“But the thing is, I’ve learned so much. I was so young then.”

“Not that young, Hadley.”

“You’re right. I was immature. I like to think I’m smarter now, at least smart enough to know you were the best thing that ever happened to me. And it wasn’t all bad, was it? Here. Look what I brought.”

She reached over and grabbed a book off the table. One of those photo albums you make online, and on the cover was a picture of the two of them in Central Park. “Remember?” she said. “We had so much fun that weekend. You took me skating at Rockefeller Center. And that dinner we had, at the place with the view of the Chrysler Building, and we laughed so hard? Remember that?”

“I do, Hadley. You’re right. We had some happy times. I also remember the lying, the tantrums, the spending and the cheating.”

“I’d make it up to you.”

“You can’t undo something like that,” he said.

“But you could forgive me. And I am so sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Doesn’t mean I want to get back together, Hadley.”

“I think you do. I think you’re just angry. If you’d give me another chance, Jack, just one...”

Her eyes were full of tears. “Hadley,” he said, putting his hand over hers. “Stop. I don’t know why you’re back, but I imagine some shit hit the fan somewhere in your life, and all of a sudden, life with me didn’t seem so bad. But I’ve moved on.”

Her eyes took on that stony look he remembered from when they disagreed. “Look at this picture,” she said, pointing to a photo of him standing next to one of the carriage horses in Central Park. “Look how happy you are there. Just think about that, Jack. That’s all I’m asking—if the happiest time in your life doesn’t deserve a second chance. Because I’d do better. I swear it.”

Their life together had had some movie-esque qualities to it, Jack admitted—their courtship, the choreographed, petal-strewn lovemaking, the dinners by candlelight, the way she could turn every move into something beautiful.

And in the past, when he’d remembered those times, he’d also remember her with Oliver.

“Rest that ankle,” he said, and, with that, he got up and left.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

WHEN JACK AND HADLEY had returned from their honeymoon two and a half years ago, Jack had nine days before warning signs had started to flicker like broken neon lights.

Nine days.

Despite what she’d said about wanting to have a family as soon as possible, Hadley decided to stay on the Pill, which was fine. After all, she was the one who’d be pregnant and giving birth. It just wasn’t what she’d been telling him or their families.

She also didn’t want to work just yet; she just wanted to settle in first. Again, totally fine. She was living in a new town in a new part of the country. Of course she wanted to acclimate. Then, she said, she’d hang out a sign and start up her interior decorating business once more.

But now that the wedding was behind her and life started to settle into a routine, Hadley seemed a little...irritable. She was surprised there weren’t more events like the Black-and-White Ball, and her interest in doing wine tastings and guiding tours for Blue Heron quickly faded.

She went to a garden club meeting but didn’t join, saying it wasn’t for her. Joined the Art League, took two pottery classes and didn’t go back. Honor asked her to help with the Manningsport Women’s Club, which was organizing a tour of homes as a fund-raiser for local scholarships, but Hadley came back from that saying it made her sad, what passed for graciousness “here in the North.”

“Don’t be a snob, honey,” Jack said, pouring her wine.

“Well, come on, babe,” she returned. “You’ve been to Savannah. You know what I’m used to.” Then she gave him a sheepish look. “Sorry. I’m just feeling a little out of sorts.” Then she wandered off to her computer, calling him over to look at the Christmas decorating ideas she’d found online, even though it was still summertime.

She was alone in the house a lot. Pru and Honor invited her out a couple of times, but the sister Hadley most liked was Faith, and Faith was in California.

And then there was Lazarus, the cat who lived with Jack.

To say it was his cat would be a stretch; Jack fed him and housed him, and Lazarus allowed it. Occasionally, Laz would jump onto Jack’s lap, knead his stomach for a few seconds, then make a hideous gacking sound and go off to parts unknown to murder and pillage the bird and rodent population. He was an ugly creature; tan with splotches of stripes, a shredded left ear and a crooked tail, wary of all humans except Jack.