He seemed to like his space. It had been three weeks since their fight in the diner and they’d managed to spend all their time apart. They slept beside each other, but she couldn’t remember the last time they went to bed together. There had been two half-assed attempts at middle-of-the-night sex, but neither had been satisfying for either of them. Olivia wasn’t even sure Rafe had been awake either time. He certainly didn’t act like he’d tried to fuck her. Her heart ached for her husband to hold her, but he wasn’t interested anymore.
She finally sent him a text on a Sunday afternoon.I’d rather have dinner at home tonight, just the two of us.
Fine.His response didn’t leave her much room for hope that it would go well.
It didn’t.
As they silently tidied up, she thought about suggesting counselling or a getaway. Both would require time, though, and Rafe legitimately didn’t have any of that. He was heading into four days on, and she wouldn’t see him again until the end of the week.
He put the plates away, then turned and stared at her. When he spoke, the question was the last thing she’d ever expected to hear from him. “Do you want a divorce?”
What? No!But as they stood there, a new thought took root. Rafe was a good Italian boy. He couldn’t leave her. His mother would flay him alive. Maybe he wanted her to leave him. He certainly didn’t want to work on their marriage. And she definitely wasn’t happy. She turned the word over and over in her head.Divorce. It felt like a meat cleaver type of word. She thought they needed something like a vegetable peeler or a paring knife, but maybe she didn’t know her husband as well as she thought she did.
Maybe he didn’t want to be her husband at all.
— —
She stared at him for a long time, so long he thought maybe she hadn’t heard him. When he opened his mouth to take it back, tell her it was a stupid question that should never be uttered in their marriage, she shattered his heart by nodding. “Yeah, I think I do.”
— ELEVEN —
Present day
“HERE’S our tea, girls.” Gloria set a tray between them on the wide coffee table and Lynn and Olivia both busied themselves making cups and ignoring their previous conversation.
“Gloria, would you mind if I took some pictures?” Olivia pulled out her phone and checked her email for the generic list of secondary sites they were still looking for. “The cottages and maybe some of the property?”
“Of course, dear. Maya and I will do some colouring while you two go exploring.”
Lynn cleared her throat. “Actually, it might be faster if Olivia goes by herself.” She caught a hard look her mother sent her way and twisted her lips. “But I can grab the keys and show you the cottages once you look around a bit?”
Olivia nodded. It was probably for the best, they’d talked as much as they probably were going to. Today. She’d try to make more time for Lynn soon. But wandering down to the dock by herself was nice. It gave her space to think about Rafe, and his notes, and how they fell apart.
How she’d somehow morphed him asking her ifshewanted a divorce into him just asking for it. The realization made her slightly nauseous. It was a miracle he didn’t hate her.
But he really didn’t hate her.
Her pulse slowly picked up as she wandered back up the hill and Lynn let her into the first cottage, then the rest. Maybe it was time for her to do some relationship repair. Go back to the beginning and start over.
After she exchanged final pleasantries and headed back to her car, leaving Maya and Lynn at the lakeside house to finish their milk and tea, she forced herself to celebrate the fact that she’d found the perfect place for their stars to stay. The Blue Heron Lane cottages were perfect, and the Fenichs were on board.
This was a big to-do list item for the locations team, and she was about to check it off. Little ol’ Olivia, who was supposed to just run around and take pictures. She couldn’t wait the five minute drive home to call Greg. Her car was too old to have built-in Bluetooth, but Rafe had bought her an add-on kit that served the same purpose. She used the fancy Siri voice commands on her work iPhone to place the long distance call to her boss.
“What’s the good word, Liv?” His warm, rich voice boomed throughout her small car.
“Uhm…the cottages were perfect. I’m going to email you pictures as soon as I get home.”
“Great stuff. Hang on.” He muffled his end of the line for a minute, then came back. “Sorry, John was just leaving my office.”
“No problem.”
“Was there anything else?”
She bit her lip. Why was she nervous? She corrected people who called her honey at the diner. Why did this feel like the stakes were higher? “About my name…I’d prefer to go by Olivia, professionally.”
“Ah.” A phone call was an awful medium to know how a request had landed. “Thanks for letting me know, I tend to shorten names without thinking.”
“It’s not a big deal.” She took a deep breath. “But thank you. Anyway, I’ll send you the contact information for the owners, the Fenichs. Ashley will want to add them to your itinerary for the contracts trip.”
