He cut a piece, varnished it with whipped cream from the can, grabbed a new fork, then went back out to watch the rest of the movie. He thought about coffee but couldn’t be bothered. The pie was good. It was always good.
Some hours later, he woke up to a different movie playing. His empty plate was on the coffee table. His neck was stiff from the way he’d bent over onto the arm of the sofa. Not intended for sleeping on.
He righted himself and massaged the muscles that had tightened up. This happened too often these days, but Jeanie wasn’t here to wake him up and make him go to bed. He never slept well in their bed anymore anyway.
He turned the television off, got up, and walked out onto the back deck to stare at the water. He ran his hands through his hair, scratching his scalp.
As much as he disliked the general sunniness of this place, night was a different story. He took his usual seat and admired the way the moonlight danced over the water. It was mesmerizing. All of that black liquid, moving in such a way that focusing on one spot was almost impossible.
You could sink under that water and never be seen again. There was something to that. Something dark and menacing. And yet, tantalizing.
He inhaled the night air, tasting the salt on his tongue. For a few minutes as he sat there, he could almost pretend Jeanie was just asleep in the bedroom, and he was having another bout of insomnia. That soon she’d come out to get him, kiss him on the head, then wrap her arms around him and tell him that she slept better with him beside her.
But that wasn’t going to happen, and he knew it. That was never going to happen again. The knowledge didn’t make the abyss inside him any bigger, but it didn’t make it any smaller, either. Nothing changed the size and depth of the cavity hollowing him out. It just remained this gaping hole that swallowed any shred of happiness that entered his life.
He’d been happy once, but those memories just seemed like a cruel form of punishment now.
He stared at the water as the moon rose higher. He sighed deeply. Finally got up. Went back inside.
He got his dessert plate and put it in the sink, then drifted into the bedroom. It was as empty as he knew it would be. Jeanie’s side of the bed smooth and untouched. The pillow plumped. Like it was waiting for her.
He stripped down and took a short, hot shower, then put on pajama pants and a T-shirt. He turned the lights off before crawling into bed. He lay there in the dark, his mind full and empty at the same time.
Full of memories and thoughts he didn’t want to have. Empty of the ideas he so desperately needed for his book.
“Why did you have to leave me?” he whispered into the dark.
It never answered. For that, he was grateful.
He wondered if Jeanie knew how miserable he was. Probably not. She’d probably gone on to some happier place where she could paint and hum and dance and do all the things that gave her pleasure.
He doubted he ever crossed her mind.
Surprisingly, he was all right with that. If she knew how unhappy he was, she’d be unhappy, too, and she’d suffered enough in her last days.
She deserved happiness. And peace.
He deserved…he wasn’t sure what he deserved.
He’d settle for a decent new idea.
His lids slid closed, an image of Jeanie in a meadow of wildflowers appearing in his head. She had an easel before her with a fresh canvas on it, a palette of bright paints in one hand, a brush in the other and she was smiling.
The breeze made her dress lift and sway. It teased her hair. She smiled, then laughed at something. Maybe at him.
He smiled, too. A tear slipped down his temple, and he sniffed. This was ridiculous. Lying here, moping, feeling sorry for himself. It accomplished nothing.
Jeanie was never coming back, and he was an idiot for dwelling on fantasies that only made him miserable.
He got up, pulled on a sweatshirt, stuck his feet into his slippers, and went to his office. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well read.
ChapterFifteen
The moment Suzanne called her out, Harper felt like she might be having a panic attack, although she’d never actually had one. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest as the air leaked from the room.
Prisha had immediately come to her rescue, reminding Suzanne of how much the residents of Hideaway Bay valued their privacy, then she’d ushered everyone back into the living room and made them discuss the book.
Harper had sat as far away from Suzanne as possible, but Suzanne hadn’t stopped looking at Harper all evening. To say she was shaken was an understatement.
