At lunchtime Dan emerged from the back, looking sheepish. It was a new look for him, his hands jammed in the pockets of his jeans and a faint flush coloring his cheeks as he nodded towards the kitchen. “I’ve made lunch, if you’re hungry.”
“What about the shop?”
“We’ll leave the door open. I can hear if someone comes in.”
Which sounded rather cozy. It had started to rain, and drops splattered the kitchen window as Dan dished out tinned tomato soup and tuna sandwiches. Claire could tell he’d gone to some effort, with paper napkins placed besides the plates and a pitcher of water with a slice of lemon floating in it. Fancy stuff.
“Thank you,” she said as she dipped her spoon into her soup. “This is very kind of you.”
“Thank you for waking me up this morning,” Dan answered gruffly as he sat down across from her. “I don’t normally... do that.”
“Get drunk on a whole bottle of Glenlivet?” He nodded, and Claire asked in a gentler tone, “Why did you, then?”
Dan didn’t speak for a moment, just spooned soup into his mouth until Claire thought he’d ignore the question completely. “My ex-wife is getting married,” he finally said. “She texted me to let me know.”
“Oh.” Claire gulped down a mouthful of soup. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Happens to a lot of people.”
“But it upset you.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “What upset me is that she’s marrying my brother.”
“Oh, no, that’s awful. Are you going to go to the wedding?”
He gave her a look of scathing disbelief. “Do you really not know the answer to that?”
“I guess not,” she murmured. “Very awkward.”
“Awkward? Awkward is having a piece of lettuce stuck in your teeth or laughing at the wrong part in a joke. This wasn’t awkward.” She stared at him, wide-eyed, shocked to hear the emotion in his voice. “This was devastating,” he continued quietly. “I came back from Afghanistan to find Ted, whom I’d asked to look after my wife, was screwing her instead.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Trust me, that wasn’t just awkward.”
“I’m sorry,” Claire whispered. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“It’s not your fault.” He dropped his hand and glanced at her bleakly. “That’s why I came out here. To get away from it all.”
“And did you?”
“Physically, yes. The rest I’m not so sure about.” He rose from the table, dumping the rest of his soup in the sink. “That kind of thing leaves its mark. I don’t know if you ever recover.”
“I hope you do,” Claire said. “I have to believe you do. If you can’t recover from the blows life deals you, what hope is there?”
“I’m not sure there is any.”
“Oh, Dan, you can’t believe that,” Claire protested. “You can’t believe that and go on living.”
He turned around with a wry smile. “Hence the bottle of Glenlivet.”
“Look, I understand about drowning your sorrows. I ended up here for the same reason.”
He cocked an eyebrow, waiting, and Claire plunged ahead. “I got drunk at a party and my fiancé dumped me and I ended up in rehab for four awful weeks, but at least it got me back here. I feel like I’m finally figuring myself out, and considering I’m twenty-eight, it’s about time.”
Dan filled the kettle and switched it on. “Your fiancé dumped you?”
“More or less. He didn’t actually say it in words, but considering I haven’t heard from him in two months, I consider myself dumped. I’m not heartbroken,” she added quickly. “Maybe I should be, but I’m not.”
“That’s just as well. There’s nothing good about being heartbroken.” He paused, his gaze distant. “We were married for seven years.”
“I’m sorry.”
