Lighthouse Road (Cedar Cove #1)(22)

“We’re still legally married then—right?”

Cecilia guessed this was his way of telling her he regretted last week’s suggestion about pretending they were divorced.

“Yes,” she said. “You don’t need to worry that I’ll be dating anyone else.”

He frowned.

Perhaps she’d read him wrong. “That’s what you were saying, wasn’t it?” She couldn’t help recalling his reaction to the man in the bar.

He looked at her blankly. “No, but I’m glad to hear it. No man likes to think of his wife with someone else, regardless of the situation.”

Now Cecilia was confused. “Exactly what are you saying? Do you want us to be married? Or do you just want me to remember that I’m still legally bound to you?”

“I want you to keep in mind that we’re stuck together—legally and financially—until we can sort this mess out, all right?”

Cecilia nodded, crossing her arms. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like his reasoning.

“The last time I was away…” He paused and glanced toward Allison’s gravestone. “You ran up the credit cards. While we’re still married, I’m legally responsible for those bills, so I’d appreciate it if you used some discretion.”

It would have hurt less if he’d punched her.

“You mean you’re worried about me spending money while you’re at sea?” She couldn’t believe he’d say such a thing. “Every penny I spent, every single penny that went on those charge cards, was so I could bury Allison.” Cecilia started to shake, first with anger, then with outrage. How dared he? How dared he! If she’d needed a reminder of why she could no longer stay in this marriage, he’d certainly given it to her.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he said.

“It won’t happen again,” she said in a deadened voice, consciously echoing his earlier words.

Ian shook his head. “I don’t even know why I mentioned that. I’m sorry.”

She ignored him. Her lack of response should be answer enough.

“You do this every time,” he said, sounding exasperated. “I try to talk to you, get things into the open and you clam up on me like I’m not even here.”

Her arms remained buried deep in her pockets, her head down. “Every penny I charged was so I could bury our daughter,” she repeated dully. “And the three-hundred-dollar phone bill…I know it upset you, but—”

Suddenly she could no longer control her voice—or her emotions.

“But that was for me!” she cried, shouting the words at him, hurling them in her anger and pain. “So there wouldn’t be two funerals that day instead of one. I’m sorry, Ian, for being so weak, but I’m not like you. I needed my mother…I needed to talk to someone. My dad couldn’t deal with it and you weren’t here. My mother…” Unwilling to have him witness her tears, she whirled around and started searching frantically through her purse.

“Cecilia?”

She found what she was looking for and tore open the small plastic holder. “Here,” she choked, taking out the VISA card and throwing it at him. The card landed on the wet green grass. “Take it! I don’t want it….”

He hesitated before picking it up. “You might need it for emergencies.”

As though the death of their daughter hadn’t been one.

She shook her head vehemently. She’d rot in hell before she’d use any credit card with his name on it again. She’d get one with her own name. Her maiden name.

Ian examined the card, and ran his thumb over the raised letters that spelled out Cecilia Randall.

“I didn’t come here to get your credit card.”

“Well, you have it now,” she returned flippantly, refusing to look at him.

Ian said nothing. A long moment passed. “I’m sorry, Cecilia,” he finally whispered.

“What for this time?”

There was another pause. “I’m going away for six months,” he murmured. “I wish we’d been able to settle this divorce business before I left, but…”

They’d been over this too many times already.

“I’d like to leave without bad feelings between us. I know you’d rather not be married to me anymore, but we can’t do anything about that right now.”

“And your point is?” she asked, deliberately sarcastic.

“Dammit, Cecilia, would you listen to us? Is this what you want? Is this how you want things to be? I don’t. I followed you here because I thought…I hoped there’d be a chance for us to end this on a friendly note.”

“Divorces aren’t friendly.”

“You’re right, but does that give you any pleasure?”

It didn’t. She knew why he’d come. Ian would leave for sea in a few days, and when he left he wanted to go without a huge knot in his gut over her.

“Goodbye, Ian,” she said softly. “Have a good tour.”

He frowned, as though he wasn’t sure he should trust her. “Do you mean it?”

She nodded. “I don’t want to fight, I never did. Go with a clear conscience. When you get back, we’ll settle all the legal stuff.”