Page 51 of Stone Heart

Next to him, Lauren shifted under the sheet. She looked peaceful and content, and for a moment, the bitter knot inside him eased. When he moved again, she opened her eyes and stretched.

“Hey, good looking,” she said. Her voice held the soft note of someone coming out of a deep, satisfying sleep.

Danny didn’t say anything. He wanted to be happy. Hewashappy, but everything had changed. What was he going to do now? He threw his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his pants. He looked around, unsure where the rest of his clothes were.

“Danny?”

“I… yeah, I have to go.” He reached down and grabbed a sock.

She responded with silence. He turned to offer an explanation that made sense, just in time to see her jamming an arm through her t-shirt as she left the room. He followed.

“Hang on,” he said. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, I get it,” she said. She pulled a bowl of cut-up melon out of the refrigerator. Using her fingers, she popped a chunk into her mouth. Danny’s stomach growled. If she heard it, she didn’t offer him any.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to bolt with barely a word,” she said.Like you’re ashamed.The unspoken implication lingered, intertwined with her words like a choking bittersweet vine.

Danny came around the island to stand beside her. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. “I’m not sorry,” he said. “Not about this. And not of you. I just…”

“A lot’s happened,” she said.

That was a royal understatement.

“I need to sort through some things,” he said.

“I understand.”

Danny hoped she was telling the truth. He tracked down the rest of his clothes, which were strewn about, and then found one shoe. It was hard to pay attention to finding the other when Lauren was in nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of panties. She located the missing shoe and gave it to him. When he got to the door, he put his arms around her.

“What do we do now?” Lauren asked.

“I don’t know,” was all he could say.

After Danny left, Lauren went back to bed. She wasn’t sleepy but cocooning herself in the blankets gave her a sense of comfort. Rather than fluff the pillow, she punched it, turned it over, and manhandled it again. The reality was, she was a little pissed Danny had left so abruptly. She hadn’t expected him to stay all day, but she’d fallen asleep dreaming about a lazy morning in bed and breakfast together. Four chunks of melon eaten straight from the bowl was hardly a meal.

But she couldn’t blame him. Danny’s life had turned upside down in twenty-four hours. She pulled the blankets a little tighter. She’d had a hand in all this, and a feeling—guilt? remorse? shame? She wasn’t sure what it was—buffeted her.

His wife left him,she told herself in a vain attempt at rationalization. But every walk in the park, shared coffee, time spent reminiscing had opened the door a little wider. And she’d let Danny walk right through it. Lauren turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. It had been a wonderful, glorious night. She’d felt more loved and wanted in those few hours than she had in a very long time. And she knew they needed to stop before they went any further. They could still treasure whatever memories they’d made last night.

But the truth was, she’d quit Danny cold turkey when she first left for LA. Now, she’d fallen off the wagon, and fallen hard. And now that she’d had a taste of what she left behind, she wasn’t sure she could stop.

ChapterTwenty-Seven

As Danny drove home, his abrupt departure gnawed at him. The only thing worse would have been bolting before Lauren woke up. He considered turning around but couldn’t. He wanted time to think.

Then another realization dawned on him: it was Sunday. And Sunday meant family dinner after church. Despite everything that happened, skipping Mass was too rebellious, not to mention what his mother might say about his absence. He was so concerned about what might be waiting for him at dinner, he barely remembered the drive home.

He showered and changed and hurried back to his Jeep. But at the end of the street, Danny stopped at the intersection. He sat there, frozen, until the driver behind him leaned on the horn and blasted him out of his reverie. He turned left instead of right. He couldn’t bring himself to go to St. Catherine’s and make the long walk down the nave to join his family.

St. C’s was the same church where he and Heather had been married.

He wasn’t ready for that.

Instead, he drove until he found another church, one dedicated to St. Jude. He hustled in just as the priest was beginning the sermon. Two old biddies clucked a reprimand as Danny slipped into a pew at the very back.

He didn’t hear much of what the priest said. He simply stared at the front of the church, his mind churning. Even though this wasn’t where he’d been married, the phrases “forsaking all others” and “death do us part” lashed him. Had he been lying when he took those vows? No, he told himself. He’d meant all of them. At least, back then he had.

The congregation knelt to pray. He’d never been particularly devout, going to church on Sunday mostly because it was expected—a duty—and not out of any deep, abiding sense of faith. However, now seemed like a smart time to start praying. The padding on the kneeler was non-existent, and the wood dug into his knees.