"Why? You'd have your pride," Katherine pointed out.
"Yes, but I would have spent the rest of my life thinking he might have loved me, too, and that if we'd admitted how we really felt about each other, then maybe I could have talked him into taking me with him and, later, searching for the real killer. In the end," Julie concluded quietly, "I'd have hated myself for not telling him again that I loved him, for never trying to change the way our story ended. Knowing that Zack didn't love me even a little is hard, and it hurts, but the other way would have hurt much more and for much, much longer."
Katherine stared at her, dumbstruck. "Julie, you amaze me. You're right about everything you just said, but if I were in your place, it would take me years to be as objective as you are now. I mean, consider what the man did—he kidnapped you, seduced you after you saved his life, took your virginity, then when you told him you loved him, he gave you a cavalier, flippant answer and sent you home to face the FBI and the world media on your own, Of all the heartless, rude—"
"Please don't go into all that," Julie said with a half-laugh as she held up her hand, "or I'll get angry all over again and forget how 'objective' I am. Besides," she added, "he didn't seduce me."
"From the story you just told, it's obvious to me he seduced you with twenty-four-karat charm."
Julie shifted her gaze to the empty fireplace and shook her head, "I wanted to be seduced. I wanted him so much."
After a moment, Katherine said, "If he had told you that he loved you, would you truly have turned your back on your family and your job and everything you believe in and gone into hiding with him if he'd asked you to do that?"
In answer, Julie lifted her gaze to Katherine's. "Yes."
"But you'd become an accessory, or whatever it is they call someone who joins in with a criminal."
"I don't think a wife can be prosecuted for standing by her husband."
"My God!" Katherine gasped, "you're completely serious! You'd have married him!"
"You of all people shouldn't find that so difficult to believe," Julie said pointedly.
"What do you mean?"
Julie watched her with a sad, knowing smile. "You know what I mean, Katherine. Now it's your turn to confess."
"About what?"
"About Ted," Julie clarified. "You've been telling me for a year that you want to make Ted listen to you because you have things you need to make him understand. Yet tonight, you meekly accepted every nasty, unjust remark he made to you without a word of argument. Why?"
Chapter 47
Katherine shifted uneasily beneath Julie's steady gaze, then she reached nervously for the teapot on the tray in front of her and poured tepid tea into her cup. When she lifted the teacup to her lips, there was a slight tremor in her hand and Julie saw it. "I accepted the way he treated me because it's no more than I deserve after the way I behaved while we were married."
"That's not the way you felt three years ago, when you filed for divorce," Julie reminded her. "You told me then that you were divorcing him because he was selfish, heartless, demanding, overbearing, and a whole lot of other things."
"Three years ago," Katherine stated sadly, "I was a spoiled brat married to a man whose only real crime was that he expected me to be a wife, not an unreasonable child. Everyone in Keaton, except you, knew that I was a ridiculous excuse for a real wife. You were too loyal to your best friend to see what was before your eyes, and I didn't have the maturity or courage to face the truth. Ted knew the truth, but he was too gallant to destroy your friendship and faith in me by telling you what I was really like as a wife. In fact, one of the few things we ever agreed on was that you shouldn't know we were having problems."
"Katherine," Julie interrupted softly, "you're still in love with him, aren't you?"
Katherine's whole body tensed at the words, then she looked down at the huge pear-shaped diamond sparkling on her left hand and twisted it in her fingers, keeping her gaze averted. With a choked laugh, she said, "A week ago, before your disappearance forced Ted to start talking to me, I would have answered no to that question."
"How would you answer it now?"
Katherine drew a long breath and looked up at her. "As you so eloquently phrased it about Zachary Benedict tonight," she said, "I would sleep with your brother for the rest of my life—if he'd only ask me to again."
"If you feel that way," Julie asked quietly, her gaze searching Katherine's face, "how can you justify the fact that you're still wearing another man's engagement ring?"
"Actually, the ring is now on loan to me."
"What?"
"I broke our engagement yesterday, but Spencer asked me not to make it official for a few weeks. He thinks I'm simply overreacting to old, sentimental memories that came back when I saw Ted again."
Restraining the urge to cheer at the news of the broken engagement, Julie smiled and said, "How do you intend to get Ted back?" Her smile faded a little as she added, "It's not going to be easy. He's changed since the divorce, he's still devoted to his family, but he rarely laughs, and he's become distant … as if there's a wall around him and he won't let anyone past it, not even Carl or me. The only thing he really seems to care about now is passing his bar exams and opening up his own practice." She paused trying to think of a kind way to phrase it and then opted for the simple truth: "He doesn't like you, Katherine. Sometimes, it's almost as if he actually hates you."
"Did you notice that, too?" Katherine tried to joke, but her voice shook a little. Sobering, she said, "He has good reason to hate me."
"I don't believe that. Sometimes two wonderful people simply can't make a go of being married, and it's no one's fault. It happens all the time."
"Don't whitewash me when I'm finally getting up the courage to tell you the ugly truth," she said shakily. "The truth is that the divorce was entirely my fault. I loved Ted when I married him, but I was so spoiled and so immature that I couldn't understand that loving someone means you make some sacrifices for him. It sounds bizarre, but I actually thought I was entitled to bind Ted to me with matrimony and then to spend the next couple of years being independent and carefree—until I was ready to settle down with him. To give you an example," she persevered, her voice ringing with self-disgust, "one month after our wedding, I realized that all my friends were going back to college for the fall semester, and I wasn't. Suddenly, I felt martyred because I was only twenty, and I was already tied down and missing out on college life. Ted had saved enough money by working as a deputy sheriff to go to school and pay my tuition, and he came up with the perfect suggestion: We could schedule our classes on the same days and drive to Dallas together. But that wasn't good enough for me. You see, I wanted to go back East and live in my sorority house like a coed, then spend summers and holidays with my husband."