Page 54 of Kiss From A Rose

It annoyed me that he introduced himself the way he did.

For God’s sake, Rose, he legally is still your husband.

But the truth was that even though it pissed me off, it also made me happy to hear that he thought of himself as my husband.

"Oh wow. We didn't know you were coming. Miss Rose said her daughter was going to be here," Geeta chirped.

They all shook hands and introduced themselves.

I wiped my hands on my jeans because, despite the cold, they felt clammy. Gray washere. What did that mean? And he'd said he was here forsixmonths. This man who couldn't take a weekend off to go away on a short break was takingsix whole monthsoff.

"I'm going to check on the food." I was about to keep walking when I stopped, not knowing why, to say, "Gray, can you make Dev and Geeta a drink?"

He looked at me, first with surprise and then gratitude. "Yes, of course."

"There's a fully stocked bar in the living room." I waved a hand in the direction of the main living area.

"Yes, ma'am." He looked almost happy, and I felt bad. Was I leading him on, asking him to take care of the guests as we would if we were at home? Or was I leading myself on?

Hell, who had time to figure that shit out? I had Cornish hens to dress.

CHAPTER 20

Gray

She looked beautiful, sitting at the end of the table, close to the kitchen door, just like she did at home. She was in her element—serving an amazing meal and doing it with such grace.

The Indian couple and Jude immediately got along. Dev was doing a master's in mechanical engineering at Georgia Tech while his girlfriend Geeta was doing her master's in astrophysics. They were smart young kids, a few years older than Jude.

The other couple was older, in their late fifties. They didn't have children, so they came to Angel's Rest B&B every year for Christmas.

They talked to Malou who they'd known for many years. She looked frail and exhausted, but her dry sense of humor still shone through.

Rose took care of her friend effortlessly and seamlessly. They both seemed to have a rhythm borne out of years of knowing oneanother. Why hadn't I made an effort to get to know this woman who meant so much to my wife? Regret churned inside me, raw and visceral.

When I called Malou a few days ago, she'd been sad but firm.

"We don't know each other well, Gray, but I know Rose as well as I know myself. You've killed something inside of her. Taken the joy away from her," she told me bluntly.

"I didn't even realize what I was doing," I confessed. "But I love her, Malou. More than my life."

"Prove it," she said. "Prove it before I'm gone. I don't want to see her all alone. I want her kids to show her respect and her husband to show her attention. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I promise on behalf of myself and our children."

"Okay."

"Okay? I thought you'd be more resistant," I admitted, surprised.

"I'm dyin', Gray. Didn't Rose tell you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I want to see my friend happy. Now, she thinks she's going to build a life without you, but I know even if she doesn't, she loves you too much, loves her children too much. It'll eventually break her. She's too worried about me now to think clearly, but after I'm gone—"

Malou began to cough, and it took a minute before she could speak again.

"I told her that when you come back, she should make sure to understand why you want to save your marriage. Do you know why?"

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