ominous. No telling what Skip had done with his income taxes. She didn’t dare open it. Making a mental note to bring it to her bankruptcy attorney, she continued to sort through the envelopes. She was about to stuff all of it in her purse when she came across a letter that seemed different. According to the return address, it came from S. Hoover Fine Jewelry in Sacramento.
“What’s this?”
She opened it and as she read, she felt her jaw sag.
Numb with shock, Sophia stumbled back to the porch and sank down on the step. Her wedding ring. Skip hadn’t absconded with the money. She had no doubt he would have, given the opportunity, but this letter suggested he hadn’t been able to liquidate it fast enough.
Had Sam Hoover, the man who’d signed this letter, seen the news and recognized Skip’s name? Did he know about the probe? Had he contacted the FBI?
Or did he still have the ring—
Ted was relieved when he found Sophia. She looked like a lost little girl sitting on the front steps of her old home. The jagged edges of the broken windows winked in the moonlight, the yard was filled with weeds and frost-covered grass, and the word
It was tragic—but as far as Ted was concerned, Skip had done him a favor. If things had gone any differently, if Skip and Sophia had merely divorced, maybe he and Sophia wouldn’t have discovered each other again. Sophia’s desperate circumstances were what had brought her back into his life, stripped away her pretenses and erased his resentment. Now he liked her even more than when they’d dated in the past. There was a humility born of struggle about her. The excitement she showed over her improved typing speed, for instance, made him smile every time he thought of it—especially when he remembered how badly she’d bombed on her first test. She’d used her improvement on a keyboard to prove her value to his mother, which showed that she was taking real pride in it. He was proud of her for trying and for planning to continue her progress.
Simply put, he loved her. Probably too much. He was willing to dive back into the relationship despite what lay ahead. He just hoped he wasn’t making his move too soon. Things were happening fast, but he didn’t know how to slow them down. It didn’t feel as if they were starting over; it felt as if they were picking up where they’d left off.
As he drove down the street, he saw her drop something in her purse. Then she got up and walked out to the car, as though she’d been waiting for him to pick her up.
“What was that?” he asked.
“What was what?” she replied.
“That paper you stuck in your purse. A notice posted by the bank?”
“No, just some mail that was left in the box. More bills, of course.”
“Don’t tell me you walked all the way over here to get the mail.”
“No, I needed time to myself, needed to meditate on some things.”
He slung his arm over the steering wheel and bent lower, so that it was easier to see her. “Before you meditate too much, I’m sorry about what happened at the house.”
“It was your mother, not you.”
“Still, I feel like I set you up.”
“You did
“But I didn’t mean to! That’s the part you have to remember. Anyway, she’s going to apologize.”
“What’d you threaten her with?”
“Just the fact that I’ll never speak to her again if she doesn’t.”
“You pulled out the big guns, huh?”
He shrugged. “I was willing to use whatever I had to. I wasn’t going to lose that fight. Shall we drive over to her place now—drag her out of bed? Would that be sufficient revenge?”
“No way,” she said. “We’re not even going over there during the day. She doesn’t need to apologize. That would be as agonizing for me as it would be for her.”
“Then what else can she do to get back in your good graces? Because I’m insisting she do something.”
“We can forget it ever happened.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
“She’ll be grateful for that option. By the way, it was nice of you to text and let me know you’re okay. Most people who are really upset don’t bother to do that.”
“I didn’t want to be rude.”
There was more of that humility. He chuckled at her response. Even when she had the right to be angry, she was trying to be nice.
“What?” She’d been sincere in her response, hadn’t expected him to laugh.
“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just glad to find you here and not at the bar.”
“I considered going to the liquor store.”
“What made you decide not to do it?”
“I don’t
That strengthened his confidence in her ability to avoid alcohol in the future. “Good answer. I’m sure Madge and your AA group would be proud. I know I am. But I’m also tired. And I’m dying to curl up in bed with you. Please tell me you’re ready to come home.”
“My bed or yours?”
“I’m not picky. You choose.”
“Okay. Count me in.”
After she got her seat belt buckled, he reached over to examine her hands. She’d been digging at her cuticles again.
“Are you ever going to stop this?” he asked.
She held them out as if she hadn’t even looked at them in a while. “I didn’t drink tonight. How much more do you want?”
“I plan to tell you as soon as we get back.” The second he slipped his fingers through hers, the knot of tension in his stomach eased. He could buy some more Band-Aids to protect her cuticles; she was going to be okay.
This time Sophia was different when they made love. Ted couldn’t explain exactly what was missing, but she seemed a bit...disengaged. Or maybe she was just tired. It had been a long night.
