“What’s that?”
“You can count on me coming back.”
Hope stirred inside her. “You’ll be back?”
“Whenever I can. Our boy is not going to grow up wondering if his father cares about him. It may not be a perfect arrangement, but I promise you we’ll make it work.”
Something died inside Jane as she realized what he meant, that the separation would go on forever. “I guess we’ll be no different from a million other divorced couples,” she said bitterly. “Shipping our child back and forth on a plane.”
He stared at her. “Who said anything about a divorce?”
“You did.”
“No, what I said was we would make this arrangement work.”
She stared at him, appalled by the suggestion. “You expect me to just hang around here, waiting for the moments you can spare us? I don’t think so, Mike Marshall. I do not intend to live my life in the same sort of emotional limbo that my mother did. Go or stay, it’s your choice. But let me be very clear about one thing, if you go, it will be the end for the two of us. I’ll file for divorce the day you get on the plane.”
She whirled around and went back inside, making very sure that she was always in the middle of a throng of friends, so Mike couldn’t challenge her about her threat. She knew that a confrontation was inevitable. She couldn’t ask her friends to hang around all night to prevent it, but for once she felt she was in charge of her own destiny.
If Mike chose to go—and she told herself she was prepared for that possibility—then he was the loser. There would never be anyone who could love him as she did, never be anyone to compare with his firstborn son. Her life was here, and so was his, if only he could recognize it in time.
CHAPTER 8
Christmas came and went, then New Year’s. On the second day of January, Jane was sitting in the nursery rocking the baby, when she caught a glimpse of Mike in the doorway. She could tell from his expression that the time had come and he was going to say goodbye. Tears flooded her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. He saw them and was by her side in an instant.
“Janie, don’t cry.” He pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the dampness on her cheeks.
She shrugged off his touch. “It’s okay. Just roller-coaster hormones.”
“Is that all?” he asked, watching her worriedly.
She forced a smile. “Of course.” She met his gaze evenly. “What about you? You seem upset.”
“We can talk about it later.” His gaze settled on his son. “How’s my boy doing?”
“Your boy has a full tummy and is sound asleep,” she said. “I should put him in his crib, but I love sitting here holding him in my arms and rocking him. I still can’t quite believe he’s real.”
A ghost of a smile passed over Mike’s face. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
“Want to trade places?”
“Sure.”
He said it so eagerly that she laughed. “Here, then. I’ll go do the latest mountain of laundry. I never imagined that a guy this little could generate so many dirty clothes.”
Mike traded places with her, settling Davey against his chest and humming to him. She would have given anything for a picture of the two of them, but her camera was out of film. They’d gone through three rolls in the past week and she’d neglected to pick up more. She’d have to remind Mike to get some when he picked up the prints later.
Unless he was going to leave before that. That was what he’d been about to tell her. She was sure of it. She wouldn’t cry when he said the words. She wouldn’t. Why make it harder than it had to be? They’d both known this day was coming.
But knowing it intellectually and facing it were two very different things. She listened in dread for the sound of his footsteps coming from the nursery. When he finally walked into the kitchen a half hour later, she was dry-eyed.
“We need to talk,” he said, gesturing toward a chair. When she was seated, he asked, “Want some tea?”
Jane shook her head. Her stomach had knotted the moment she saw him. Tea wouldn’t help. Nothing would.
Mike sat down opposite her and drew in a deep breath. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Even though she’d anticipated the words, shock rippled through her. “I see.”
“But I have a request before I go.”
She regarded him warily. “What kind of a request?”
“A few days back you threatened to file for divorce the minute I left. I’d like you to wait.”
“Why, Mike? Why wait?”
“Because I don’t think we should throw our marriage away like this.”
“We’re not throwing it away,” she said angrily. “It never had a chance.”
“And whose fault is that?” he demanded, then closed his eyes, visibly struggling for calm. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault or mine. This goes deeper than pure stubbornness. I know that, too. We both have reasons for feeling the way we do.”
“Reasons that won’t change over time,” she said. “We were apart for a whole year and nothing changed.”
“Because neither of us made the effort.”
“What’s different about now? What kind of effort are we supposed to make?” she lashed out. To her shock, she thought she saw tears in his eyes.
“Please, Janie, don’t write us off yet,” he pleaded. “There has to be some way to make it work. I have to leave here believing that.”
“I wish I could say I agreed with you, but I don’t. Some impasses just can’t be broken. Why prolong this?”
“Because we made vows,” he said fiercely. “Despite the circumstances, those vows meant something to me. If they meant anything at all to you, then you have to give us more time.” He gazed at her intently. “Did they? Did they mean anything at all to you?”
“You know they did,” she said in a whisper.
