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“Spare me.” She pulled on her shoes and grabbed a coat. Then she motioned at the closet, partially jammed with his jackets, hats, umbrellas, ski equipment. “You still have stuff in here.”

“I know.” Was she asking him to remove it? So far, she’d been careful not to go that far. And he’d purposely ignored the fact that he’d left some things behind. Since Lynnette had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, which was discovered after their second divorce became final, he didn’t feel he could just walk away. What kind of man would abandon the mother of his child when she was facing a lifelong battle with a disease like that? “I’ll get it soon,” he said with a shrug.

“No, you won’t. You’ll let it sit here till it rots or I throw it in the street.”

Because he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t as if she had any reliable family to turn to. His family had become her family, and they’d decided to stand by her, for her sake and Jeremy’s. A phlebotomist didn’t make that much, and it probably wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t work anymore. He’d already seen significant changes in her, including an even more volatile temper.

But they used to love each other. They had ten years invested in the relationship. Surely, with enough effort and persistence, they could make it work. If only he could forget about Skye…

“I won’t be home until midnight,” she said.

Why so late? He spent every Monday with Jeremy while she attended an art class over at American River College. But she’d never come home past ten. Had she met someone else?

If so, he couldn’t believe it would last, couldn’t believe she’d find a new husband who’d be willing to take care of her when her health began to deteriorate. He wasn’t sure he wanted Jeremy to have a stepfather, anyway. That invited a whole slew of additional problems. This was his family; he’d take care of them. “Have fun,” he said.

She eyed him skeptically. “Aren’t you going to ask me where I’m going after class?”

“Should I?”

A pained expression crossed her face. “No, I guess not. Jeremy’s here. He’s all you care about.”

“Lynn.”

She didn’t look up. Taking her keys off the counter, she started for the door.

“Lynn,” he said again, catching her arm.

When she lifted her eyelashes, he could see tears glistening in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You think you’re coming back,” she said. “You tell me you want things to work out between us. That you won’t leave me to deal with this disease alone.”

“I won’t.”

“But only because you feel obligated. You don’t love me anymore.”

He didn’t know what to say or what to make of her erratic behavior. Although they never argued in front of Jeremy—as far as David was concerned, that was an unbreakable rule—half the time she acted as if she could barely contain her animosity toward him. The other half, she was so frightened by what was happening to her and so clingy he couldn’t breathe. “I care about you. I want you to be happy.”

“You want Jeremy to be happy.”

“That, too.”

“But I can tell…”

He filled the gap so she wouldn’t find the words she was looking for. It would just be more of the same complaints he’d been hearing for the past five years. “We don’t have to be miserable if we’re together,” he said. “We’ll get more counseling—”

“We’ve had enough counseling, David!”

Her voice was shrill as the tears spilled over her lashes, and David worried that Jeremy would hear her and be confronted with an upsetting scene. “Come on.” He tried to take her in his arms, to calm her down, but she shoved him away.

“No! Don’t you understand? This is killing me! I have to get over you. You’ll never love me the way you used to.”

David couldn’t contradict her. What he’d felt was dead and gone long before the diagnosis. All the hushed arguments and complaints and accusations had killed it and, hard as he tried, he couldn’t resurrect it. But there were other elements in a marriage. Trust. Stability. Companionship. As time went on, those things often became more important than the head-over-heels, I-can’t-stop-thinking-about-you devotion she craved. At least she’d have someone to lean on and Jeremy could be sure his mother would be well taken care of. “I’m not a quitter. I’ll always be there for you, support you as much as I can, be true to you—”

“In other words, you’ll soldier on,” she interrupted bitterly. “That’s not enough. I love Jeremy, too. He’s the reason I’ve hung on. But I can’t be a good mother when I’m this miserable.” Dashing a hand across her cheeks, she seemed to rally. “I have a date tonight. You might want to sleep here because I’ll be late. Maybe I’ll even stay the night with him.” This last comment she tossed over her shoulder as she turned toward the door again.

“Lynnette.” She paused at the sharp way he’d said her name. “If you don’t know this guy very well, be careful.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say? Be careful?”

“Don’t do anything rash just to get back at me.”

“I wouldn’t be doing it to get back at anyone,” she retaliated. “I want to make love, I want to be loved, I want to feel good about myself again! You bring out the worst in me. I don’t even like me when you’re around!”

David told himself to stop her, to say the words she wanted to hear, to take her to her room and make love to her. But Jeremy came to the top of the stairs and looked down at them uncertainly. “Dad? Mom? What’s wrong?”

Glancing between his ex-wife and his son, David almost breathed a sigh of relief. “Nothing, bud,” he said, and climbed the stairs to reassure his son.

The front door opened and closed. Then Lynnette’s car started and she drove off. Listening to her engine fade into the distance, David felt more of the old self-recrimination. What the hell was the matter with him? Lynnette had a debilitating disease. Why couldn’t he give her what she needed?

He just couldn’t. He couldn’t make love to her and pretend she was the one he wanted. Not today. Not after seeing Skye this morning.

“Dad?”

“What?” he said.


Tags: Brenda Novak Last Stand Thriller