Lauren met her eyes and looked, really looked—past the superiority to the thin edge of fear underneath. “Judith,” she said, soft and sure, “Tom is a grown man. He gets to choose what matters to him.”
Judith’s nostrils flared. “And that’s you?”
Lauren hesitated. “I believe,” she said slowly, honestly, “Tom is choosing the life he wants. And the kind of man he wants to be.”
“That’s absurd,” Judith hissed. “Tom has put up with you for long enough. You’ve never been good enough for him. He certainly never thought you were.”
The words should have gutted her. Instead, they sounded outdated—like a script Judith had been reading from for years.
The sting landed—and then dissolved. Rain gathered, slid in clean lines down the windowpane.
“Maybe,” Lauren said gently, “he sees things differently now.”
Lauren saw Judith’s composure falter. She looked suddenly, painfully human. “Please don’t take him away from me.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. “Judith, I’m not taking him anywhere.”
“I don’t want to lose my son.” She bit out.
Lauren shook her head slowly. “I’m not competing with you. I’m not trying to replace you.” She paused. “That’s not how family works, Judith.”
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Judith admitted, voice thinner than Lauren had ever heard it. “My son is giving me ultimatums. My friends—women I’ve known for twenty years—are calling me asking if I can introduce them to you.”
Lauren’s eyebrows lifted. “Me?”
“Yes,you.” Judith let out a brittle, disbelieving laugh. “Apparently you’re sought after. They’ve seen your Muse features. The Stockist display.”
Lauren didn’t know what to say. Judith sighed and turned toward the door.
Lauren didn’t stop her. At the threshold, Judith said. “Lauren?”
“Yes?”
“I…” she paused without turning around. “I am… sorry for how I’ve treated you.” Then she stepped into the rain, shoulders hitching the smallest bit.
Lauren shut the door, heart pounding, breath shaking. She wasn’t afraid of Judith Barrett. Not anymore. Not even a little.
The rain whispered down the windows. Lauren leaned back against the door, eyes closing.
He’s prioritizing you.
The words replayed in her mind, slow and warm, like a secret she’d been starving for.
Her husband. Tom. Prioritizing her.
CHAPTER 66
Tom
Rain hammered the windshield,a relentless blur of silver lines. Tom sat in the parked car outside the corner newsagent, wipers ticking uselessly. A freshly purchased copy ofMuselay on the passenger seat, its glossy pages reflecting the glow from the dashboard.
Lauren’s face in print. That plaque in her hands.DIVORCED AFin bold white letters, like a headline on his failure.
Tom stared at her photograph, pulse stumbling. He had thought he’d been fixing things. The quilt squares, the letter, the church parking lot, the way she’d let him kiss her.
She’d told him he could use his house key again.
It felt like progress. Like hope. Like love finding its shape again.
