Chapter Nineteen
Hunter removed his glasses and rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, waiting for his garage door to open. Hellish day. Cortland had brought two board members to lunch, but despite their interest, the board members’ approval, which was needed to green-light this undertaking, would take time. More time than it would take Pure Foods to finalize its offer.
More troubling than that, however, was the fact that Sara hadn’t taken his calls all day.
In the doghouse—again.
Despite exhaustion, he’d taken advantage of the time difference and rescheduled his return flight for today. That effort should mitigate his offenses. He’d hoped she’d still be awake, but the dark house suggested otherwise. Only after he’d pulled into the garage did he notice her missing car.
He lugged his unused overnight bag out of the trunk and speed-dialed Colby to see if Sara went to A CertainTea for a drink and some company.
He stood in the garage, staring at the empty space. “Hey, sis. Is Sara down there with you?”
“No. Why would she be here?”
“I just got back from my trip, and she’s not home.” He sighed, too exhausted to come up with a white lie. “She’s not answering my calls.”
“You took that trip after what happened?”
So she knew about Gentry. It shouldn’t surprise him, but right now he didn’t need her judgment or a debate. “Have you spoken with her today?”
“No. I left a message, but she didn’t call me back. I assumed she wasn’t ready to talk. I’m really sorry, Hunter. I worried about something like this happening. Now I’m torn between hurting for you and Sara and understanding how Gentry’s feelings changed.”
“Stop there. I’m not near ready to empathize with Gentry.”
“I’m sorry. I get it. As for Sara, maybe Mom coaxed her into coming over for dinner. If they opened a bottle of wine, they could’ve lost track of time. You know how Mom loves to keep people talking, especially if she’s worried about Sara being alone.”
“Maybe.” He couldn’t picture that, though. Sara wouldn’t want to talk about everything yet. She’d want to do something or go someplace that made her feel better. “I think I might know where she went. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He set his suitcase just inside the mudroom and got back in his car. A total long shot, but he couldn’t think of anything else, and she’d mentioned something about hearing that Pam got that waitressing job. Ten minutes later, he drove by the apartment he’d rented for Ty and his mother. Strike one.
He then took a spin past the Angel House. Strike two. A quick drive by his mom’s turned up empty, too. Only one place left, and his stomach soured just thinking about it. He slowed as he approached his dad’s house, not sure what to hope for. He didn’t want to see Gentry yet, but he wanted to find Sara. It was possible she’d gone there hoping to persuade Gentry to reconsider.
No luck, and now it was after eleven.
On his way home, he dialed Sara again, but it went straight to voice mail. Where the hell had she gone? Panic flitted around like a hummingbird in his chest.
He returned home to a still-empty garage and stormed inside, leaving his bag in the mudroom. When he flipped on the kitchen lights, he saw a letter on the island. Thank God—an explanation. Relief whooshed through him, making him a little light-headed.
He blew out a long breath to settle himself, then picked up her note and its familiar cursive script. Line by line, the room around him dimmed until his peripheral vision turned nearly black. He focused on each loopy letter, convinced that his brain was misunderstanding her. That she hadn’t actually left town. Left him.
She’d left him.
Sara was gone.
He set the note down and stared into space, aware of the heated air pushing in and out of his lungs as he struggled for each breath. Sara. Aside from the low hum of the refrigerator, the house was silent and still. He’d been alone in their house before, but it had never felt this lonely.
It wouldn’t be a home without her. Just an assortment of furnishings and carpets, dishes, and artwork. Her leaving might as well be a match tossed in the living room for how it would burn the place to the ground.
He’d been happy here with her, with their friends and family. Of course, Sara had always projected ahead to when the spare bedrooms would be nurseries. To when they’d host first birthday parties and leave cookies for Santa. Her enthusiasm had always made him smile, although, in truth, he’d never needed that in the same way she did. He’d just needed her. He’d been satisfied—no, grateful—for her, and their marriage would’ve been enough.
Obviously, she didn’t feel the same.
His phone buzzed, causing his heart to jump. “Hello?”
“Did you find Sara?” Concern edged Colby’s voice.
“Not exactly.” Although she hadn’t mentioned where she’d gone, he knew she’d run back to the comfort of her loving family. The kind she’d tried and failed to re-create in Portland. Her sisters and their kids would help her regroup. “She went to Sacramento.”
“That makes sense.” His sister sounded relieved, but only because she didn’t understand that Sara had gone for more than a visit. “Her mom will help her get over this latest setback.”
“Or maybe she’s not planning on coming back.”
“Of course she will, Hunter. She’s upset, but she loves you. She just needs a little time away from Gentry to get perspective.”
“I’m not so sure.” He then read the note to his sister.
For a short while, Colby said nothing. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”
“No. Don’t pester her. She obviously wants space.” He closed his eyes. “Listen, I’m exhausted. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“I’m here for you.”
“I know.” A grateful yet bleak smile flickered. “Thanks.”
After he hung up, he glanced at the note again, staring at it for minutes, memorizing each word.
His wife had left him.
What now?
His body jerked to attention, and he ran up the steps, through their room, and into the closet. A trickle of hope soothed him when he found a majority of her clothes, shoes, and other personal items left behind.
Burying his nose in one of her sweaters, he inhaled, searching for her scent. He tried three more before realizing nothing clean would smell like her. On the top of the pile of discarded things in the hamper, he found the sleep shirt she’d worn last night.
He slung it over his shoulder and went to the sink to brush his teeth. His reflection wasn’t pretty. Pale. Hair disheveled from raking his hands through it a few too many times. A hint of panic in his weary eyes. He looked away, spit out the toothpaste, wiped his mouth, and headed to bed.
Once under the covers, he looked at the empty side of the bed where his wife should have been. The bed—the whole room—was cold. He clutched her pajamas to his chest like a kid with a stuffed animal, hoping to keep the monsters away.
The sheer white curtains of her childhood bedroom billowed from the breeze coming through the window Sara had cracked open last night. The room might as well have been a furnace, despite the fall weather. Or maybe it was simply her body temperature burning hotter than a summer sun in Phoenix.
Restless. Distraught. Benumbed. In the span of twenty-four hours, she’d experienced pretty much every emotion on the spectrum of human reaction.
Her old twin mattress hadn’t helped matters. If she tried to stretch her limbs wide, like she could on the king-size mattress at home—or former home—she’d have banged into the wall or fallen off the edge. In truth, a part of her was grateful that the narrow bed didn’t leave room for a blank space where Hunter should be.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d awakened alone. Curling into a ball, she pulled the rosebud-print quilt up to her chin and gently brushed her wedding ring against her lips.
Hunter’s original plan was to fly home this afternoon, so his worried messages last night had caught her off guard and unprepared. They’d stopped at eleven, so he must’ve finally found her note. She’d texted him around midnight, after she’d cried to her mom and settled down, saying she wasn’t ready to talk yet.
He hadn’t replied or tried to reach her again since then.
Tap, tap, tap.
“Yes?” She sat up with some effort, looking toward the door.
Her mom peeked into the room and smiled. She was a little on the short and stout side, and her round face and sandy hair lent a bit of youthfulness despite her sixty-one years. Although decades had passed, Sara was reminded of all the mornings of her childhood when her mom’s pleasant smile had been the first thing she’d seen each day. “I made some coffee.”
“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute.” Her stomach clenched at the thought of digesting the acidic drink. In fact, her whole body ached and begged to lie down again.
Still standing in the doorway, her mom tilted her head to the left, face glowing with compassion. That look, coupled with her naturally sweet voice, had always comforted Sara. “You don’t look like you got much sleep.”
Sara shook her head and pinched her nose to stop it from tingling.
A sad, lopsided grin appeared. “I’ll make French toast with almond extract. That was your favorite, right?”
“Mimi’s, actually. But I like it fine, too.”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll go to my grave getting all of you girls’ preferences jumbled up.” Her mom closed the door, and Sara sank back into the pillow.
The memory remark made her think of Jed’s neurological issues. For most of her adult life, he’d been like another father to her. Of course, over the past couple of months, Jed’s choices and health had wrought unwelcome changes on the man who’d otherwise always been loving and kind and fair.
Those changes had conspired to send her husband even further into a tailspin.
Losing another baby hurt. Losing her marriage and her other family hurt more. Would they care? Would her leaving turn them against one another, or would they rally around Hunter? Worse, had her absence only jacked up Hunter’s anger toward his dad and Gentry?
Hunter would be awake now, if he’d slept at all. Maybe he had. Maybe, after the shock wore off, he was relieved to have her and her complaints out of his life.
She hadn’t thought ahead yesterday, so she wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. Separation, divorce, conscious uncoupling—concepts she’d never planned to consider. Didn’t know where to begin to do so, either.
One day at a time, she supposed.
Looking around her cluttered room, she marveled at the assortment of crap her mother had kept. Each memento represented old dreams—some fulfilled, others not yet realized. Triumph on the soccer field had yielded a couple of trophies. Her high school diploma and National Honor Society certificate were pinned to the large bulletin board hanging over her old desk. There were pictures of her high school friends along with her dried-out senior prom corsage. There were also a few college photos, including one of her and Hunter from a Pi Phi formal.
He’d bowled her over with his enthusiasm and drive—his commitment and their immediate connection. She’d never met a guy like him before, or since. Hunter Cabot was a force of nature, and she’d been more than content to be swept along for the ride, until it felt like she was grasping at loose ends, just trying to hang on.
Now what?
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and dug out her old robe from the tiny closet. By the time she reached the kitchen, her mother had already fixed her a plate and poured some coffee.
“Any other day I would’ve called in sick, but the kids have been working on this history project for weeks, and today is the big presentation. They’re so excited. I can’t let them down.” Her mom snapped a slice of bacon in two and chomped on one half.
“It’s okay. I know you and Dad have to work.” Her mother still taught fourth grade, but her dad had moved into administration over the years and was now a high school principal a few districts south of town.
“He’s sorry he had to leave before you woke, but his commute is longer than mine. As it is, I need to leave within ten minutes.” She sipped her coffee. “I hate leaving you alone today. What will you do?”
“Go see Mimi and the kids. We’ve traded messages but haven’t had a real conversation in weeks. Is Lisa around, too?”
Her mom rolled her eyes. “Lisa is definitely around, still parked at the rear of Mimi’s property. Maybe you can encourage her to supplement her massage therapy income with another job. Lord knows anytime I try to talk some sense to her, she treats me like the enemy.”
Lisa had never liked advice. In fact, suggesting something was the surefire way to make certain she absolutely never did it. She was a free-spirited girl with a tendency toward moodiness, similar to Gentry. That thought made Sara frown.
Her mother must’ve read her thoughts. “When I get home today, we’ll talk about what’s happened and how you’re going to move forward and fix your marriage.”
“You think I haven’t tried fixing it? I think it’s beyond saving.” She poured extra sugar in her coffee.
“Did he lie? Cheat? Hit you?”
“Of course not.” Hunter was honest, loyal, and had never really raised his voice to her, let alone his hand.
“Do you still love him?” Her mother’s tone held no judgment but reminded Sara of the anguish in Hunter’s face when he’d asked her that same thing not long ago.
Layers of anger and disappointment sat on her heart, but beneath all that beat the frustrating truth. He’d been her one and only for nearly fourteen years, and that wouldn’t fade easily, even if she wished it would. “Yes.”
“Then it can be saved.” Her mom stood and set her cup in the sink. “You take a few days here to hit ‘Pause,’ but you can’t just walk out on your life because you don’t like the way it’s going. That won’t solve anything.”
Sara realized her mom would be one of many people who might think her crazy or ungrateful to have left Hunter. Who didn’t understand that sometimes love and good intentions weren’t enough. Who couldn’t see how his ambition and need for control had taken over their lives. How he’d grown more invested in things outside their marriage than within.
She admired him but deep down wished it could be like the beginning, when he couldn’t wait to leave the office so he could spend time with her, whether reading by a fire or cooking on the grill or simply sharing jokes while walking around the lake. When he never forgot to show up for dinner. When the idea of skipping doctors’ appointments for business meetings would’ve appalled him. When volunteering with her would have been something he’d have asked to do rather than refused.
If other couples were happy making it work Hunter’s way, hooray for them. It didn’t work for her, and she wouldn’t feel guilty about it . . . or at least she hoped she wouldn’t for long. He’d taken for granted that she’d be there for him and his family despite how little time he spent talking to her, exploring the world with her.
Sara buried her head in her hands. “No lectures, Mom. I already have a headache.”
Her mom came over to hug her from behind and kissed her head. “I’ll see you later. Tell your sisters hi from me. Let’s plan a family dinner for tomorrow since you’re home. I don’t see them enough these days.”
“Okay.” That surprised Sara, who’d always been a little bit homesick. If she’d lived within a thirty-minute drive of her parents or siblings, she’d visit all the time. As it stood, she’d seen them all only once or, if she was lucky, twice each year, mostly at holidays or other milestone celebrations.
She missed the day-to-day kind of relationship with her own family that she’d somewhat re-created with Hunter’s.
Colby already knew about her leaving from Hunter. She couldn’t return that call yet because she had no idea what she’d say. Poor Colby would be smack in the middle of Hunter and Gentry’s fight, too. And when Jed and Gentry got word of what she’d done, they might feel responsible.
Hunter would blame them, but Gentry’s reversal was the tipping point, not the root cause. Unless he grasped that, she didn’t see any hope for them, no matter what her mother thought.