Chapter Five
Zoe froze. She’d known it was coming, but hadn’t prepared herself to tell her story. Though tempted to gloss over the beginning, it was vital to understanding her.
Donovan gazed at her with sympathetic eyes in a shade of brown that matched her hot cocoa. “If you’re not comfortable sharing, you’re under absolutely no obligation to. I know I barged my way into your life, but I can respect boundaries.”
“It’s okay—it’s just not an easy story to tell.” She ran her fingers along her jaw. “When I moved to Nativity, my life was in shambles. I’d lost everything dear to me and came here to escape reality.”
“A reality that felt too much like fiction?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head and stared at him. Somehow, without even knowing what had happened, he understood. “I lived a privileged life. My father was a dignitary who traveled often, and my mom was a trophy wife. My sister Victoria and I traveled around the world with them and had private tutors and nannies.”
“Sounds rather drab.” He cut himself short and gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think before I spoke. My family’s very tight-knit and the epitome of middle-class America. My upbringing was very different, but that doesn’t mean one was better than the other.”
Zoe laughed. “It’s refreshing to hear your honesty. And to be truthful, it was drab. Parts were exciting, but I longed for a normal childhood. I’ve been to more countries than I can count, but I rarely had the opportunity to get out and explore them. Tori and I were often restricted to a hotel suite, occasionally allowed to attend a gala with our parents. Even then, it was usually for photo ops.”
“Deana and I went to Jamaica for our honeymoon. That’s the only time I’ve traveled outside the United States.” He shook his head. “That’s a lie. I’ve been to Canada once on a childhood vacation to Niagara Falls. One day I’d love to visit Ireland and see the land of my ancestors.”
“It’s beautiful there. Some girlfriends and I spent a month in Dublin and the surrounding areas one summer.”
“My great-great-grandfather immigrated to America from Cork in the late nineteenth century. I wanted to go for our honeymoon, but Deana insisted on a beach resort.”
“Deana is your ex-wife?”
He nodded. “Yes. We were college sweethearts.”
“What happened?” The longer she kept him talking, the more time she had to gather strength.
“I don’t know.” The pained look in his eyes and thinning of his lips belied the casualness of his shrug. “Even in hindsight, I can’t see any warning signs. I worked a lot but made family a priority. I can’t shake the feeling she cheated on me, although she claims she didn’t date Anthony until the divorce was finalized. Yet, she married him one month to the day after the papers were signed.”
“Ouch.”
“I can’t dwell on it. I did for a long time, and it only made me miserable.” A smile worked its way to his mouth. “And I got Brody out of the marriage, so I can’t regret it. He’s a great kid.”
“How old is he?”
“Four.” The more he spoke of his son, the brighter his eyes became. “I get him every other weekend, and I’m convinced he grows an inch in that timeframe.”
“They do grow quickly.” A lump lodged in her throat and her chest pounded until she was convinced it would explode.Not now. I can’t do this now.
“Are you okay?” Donovan leaned forward. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
She tried to swallow but couldn’t. Her breathing became labored. All she could do was shake her head.
Donovan jumped out of his seat, sending Snowball scurrying, and left the room. She vaguely registered the sounds of cabinets and glasses rattling. A minute later, he returned and handed her a glass of water. “Take a drink. See if that helps.”
When he lifted it to her mouth, she sipped the water, and it ran down her throat, clearing the ball of emotion. “Thank you.”
After several minutes of controlled breathing, she brought herself under control.What is going on with me? I haven’t had an attack like that in years.
Concern etched itself on every plane of Donovan’s face. “Better now?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a long time.”
“Need to talk about it?”
No one in Nativity knew, except Mrs. Jacobs. She had no close friends despite her involvement at church, with the shelter, and other civic activities—only acquaintances. She felt a bond with Donovan, however. Maybe because he’d shared his own story of heartache? Different from hers, but the loss of love, nonetheless.
“I had a little girl.” She stared at her hands, willed herself not to cry. “Aubrey looked just like her daddy and was the most beautiful baby I’d ever laid eyes on.”
