Breathing Room

toward the house. “You shouldn’t have come here,” she said when they were gone.

He finally looked at her, but his eyes were as cold as a stranger’s. “You didn’t leave me any choice.”

This was the man she’d shared her life with, the man she’d believed would always love her. They used to stay in bed all weekend, talking and making love. She remembered the joy they’d shared when Jeremy and the girls were born. She remembered the family outings, the holidays, the laughter, the quiet times. Then she’d gotten pregnant with Connor, and things had begun to change. But even though Harry hadn’t wanted more children, he’d still fallen in love with their youngest son the moment he’d slipped from her body. At first she’d been certain he’d fall in love with this one, too. Now she knew different.

“We talked about it, and we agreed. No more kids.”

“I didn’t get pregnant by myself, Harry.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on me. I wanted a vasectomy, remember? But you threw a fit, so I backed off. My mistake.”

She cupped her hand over his mistake and rubbed the taut skin.

“Would you like me to help you pack,” he said levelly, “or do you want to do it yourself?”

He was as remote as a distant planet. Even after all these months she couldn’t get used to his coldness. She remembered the day he’d told her that his company wanted him to go to Switzerland and oversee an important acquisition. Not only did it mean the promotion he’d been working toward, but it would also give him an opportunity to do the kind of work he was best at.

Unfortunately, her pregnancy stood in his way. He’d be gone from August through November, and the baby was due at the end of October. Since Harry Briggs always did the right thing, he said he was turning down the job. But she’d refused to let him be a martyr, and she told him she was packing up the kids and coming with him. Women had babies in Switzerland, didn’t they? She’d have hers there, too.

It had been a mistake from the beginning. She’d hoped their time away from home would bring them close again and mend the hurts, but it had only driven them further apart. The apartment the company had found was too small for a large family. The kids had no one to play with, and as the weeks passed, their misbehavior escalated. She planned weekend excursions-EuroDisney, boat trips down the Rhine River, cable-car rides-but she ended up taking the children by herself, because Harry worked constantly. He was gone nights, Saturdays, even sometimes on Sunday. Still, she hadn’t fallen apart until two days ago, when she’d caught him at a restaurant with another woman.

“Do you want me to help you pack?” he repeated, in the overly patient voice he used when he was reprimanding one of the children.

“I’m not leaving, Harry, so I don’t need to pack.”

“Yes you do. You’re not staying here.” No emotion registered on his face. She heard no pain in his voice, no caring, nothing but the cold, flat statement of a man compelled to do his duty.

“Watch me.”

Ren was standing just behind Harry, and he frowned. She knew he didn’t want her here, but if he said a word about it in front of Harry, she’d never forgive him.

Harry’s eyes stayed on her even as he addressed Ren. “I’m surprised you want her. Setting aside the fact that she’s seven and a half months pregnant, she’s just as spoiled and irrational now as she was when you were married to her.”

“As opposed to being a controlling, cheating bastard?” she shot back.

A muscle twitched in the side of his jaw. “Very well. I’ll pack the children’s things myself. Feel free to stay as long as you like. The kids and I will do fine without you.”

Her ears rang, and her breath caught on a hiss. “If you think for one minute that you’re going to walk off with my children…”

“That’s exactly what I think.”

“Over my dead body.”

“I can’t imagine why you’d object. You’ve done nothing but complain about them since we arrived in Zurich.”

The injustice nearly choked her. “I never get a break! I’m with them all day and all night. And all weekend while you’re cuddled up with your anorexic girlfriend!”

Her anger didn’t even make him flinch. “It was your choice to come with me, not mine.”

“Go to hell.”

“If that’s the way you want it, I’m leaving. I’ll take the four children we have. You can keep the new one.”

Tracy felt as if he’d slapped her. This is it, she thought. This is the darkest moment of my life.

She heard Isabel make a quiet sound of distress. Ren, her old childhood friend, stepped forward. “You’re not taking anybody anywhere, pal.”

Harry’s jaw set in the stubborn line Tracy had seen so often. He knew that Ren could flatten him without even breathing hard, but he was Harry, and he turned toward the house anyway.

Ren began to move. Tracy started to cry out, but Isabel got to it first. “Both of you, stop right there!”

Isabel sounded like every authority figure Tracy had spent her childhood rebelling against, but she’d never been more grateful for anyone’s interference.

“Ren, please step aside. Harry, come back here, would you? Tracy, you need to sit down.”

“Who are you?” Harry said, cold and hostile.

“I’m Isabel Favor.”

Tracy wasn’t clear exactly how Isabel made it happen, but Ren moved aside, Harry walked back toward the pool, and Tracy sank down at one of the tables.

Isabel took another step forward, speaking softly but firmly. “The two of you need to stop trading insults and start talking about what matters.”

“I don’t believe that either of us asked for your opinion,” Harry said, prickly as hell.

“I am,” Tracy heard herself say. “I’m asking.”

“I’m not,” Harry retorted.

“Then I’ll speak on behalf of your children.” Isabel projected a confidence that Tracy envied. “Although I’m not an expert on child behavior, I think I can safely say that what the two of you are doing is going to damage five small lives in ways you can’t even imagine.”

“Parents get divorced all the time,” Harry retorted, “and their kids turn out fine.”

Pain shot into the very depths of Tracy’s heart. Divorce. As bad as it had gotten, neither of them had ever spoken that word, not until now. But what had she expected? She’d left, hadn’t she? Still, she’d never imagined this. She’d just wanted to get Harry’s attention. She’d wanted to cut through that layer of ice that had formed a block around him so thick she didn’t know how else to chisel through it.

Harry no longer looked quite as detached, but it was hard to tell what he was feeling. He kept his emotions neatly tucked away until it was convenient for him to deal with them. She, on the other hand, hung hers out for the world to see.

“People do get divorced,” Isabel said. “And sometimes it’s unavoidable. But when five children are involved, don’t you think parents need to suck it up and do their best to figure out how they can stay together? I know it may seem tempting right now, but you both forfeited your chance to run off and follow your bliss a long time ago.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Tracy retorted.

If anything, Isabel’s expression grew more sympathetic. “Do you hit each other? Is there physical abuse?”

“Of course not,” Harry snapped.

“No. Harry won’t even set a mousetrap.”

“Is either of you abusive to your children?”

“No!” they said together.

“Then everything else can be solved.”

Tracy’s bitterness rose to the surface. “The problems we have are too big to be solved. Betrayal. Adultery.”

“Immaturity. Paranoia,” Harry countered. “And problem-solving requires logic. That leaves Tracy out.”

“It also requires some knowledge of human emotions, and Harry hasn’t felt an emotion in years.”

“Are you listening to yourselves?” Isabel’s gentle shake of the head left Tracy feeling faintly ashamed. “You’re