Page 29 of Finding Home

He brushed an escaped tendril behind her ear. “We can stay here. I can listen. We can talk. We can run. You decide. Either way, I’m here. I’m with you.”

He’s with me.Enveloped in the steadying embrace of his promise, she debated allowing her anguish to come out with this man, who was so willing to catch her if she fell.

“Let’s run,” she said instead, not yet ready to be caught.

“Uncle!” she declared an hour later, collapsing onto the ground.

“I may die,” Clayton groaned, falling beside her on the grass.

“It’s a good place for a grave,” Elle puffed, running her fingers in the crisp blades of grass. Long Beach’s grass was brittle and coarse, but this felt decadent against her slick skin. “I think I’ve missed grass.” Her head twisted toward Clayton.

They laid close enough to almost touch but far enough away to miss the heat of his presence. If only she’d let herself reach those few inches.

His mouth quirked. “They don’t have grass in California?”

“Not like this. It’s so silky.”

“All this time I thought you brought ladies flowers. I could have saved so much money by just bringing them grass,” he joked.

“Clearly you’ve been dating the wrong women.”

“Clearly.” A lopsided grin stretched across his face and her belly flipped.

How was this patient, kind, and thoughtful man divorced?Not to mention good looking.Elle’s heart fluttered as Aunt Janet’s words scampered into her thoughts.

“I shouldn’t ask, but I’m curious.” She gnawed her lip. “Your divorce…What happened?”

“You can ask me anything. Nothing much to tell. I was married and now I’m not.”

“What was she like?” Elle asked, letting her curiosity and his permission lead her.

“Marianne and I met in Veterinarian school at Cornell. We were in the same study group. She was from Pittsburgh and lives there now. She preferred cats to dogs.”

“Cats?” she guffawed.

“I know, a red flag,” he chuckled. “We were friends, and then we dated. I loved her but not in the way you’re supposed to.”

“How were you supposed to love her?”

“Like Darcy loved Lizzie.” A thoughtful smile curled his lips.

No further explanation was needed. Darcy and Lizzie’s love hadn’t been instant, even though the seeds were planted from their first meeting. It wasn’t swoony; although, the story made many readers swoon. Darcy didn’t recite poetry, bring flowers, or make cheesy romantic gestures. His was a quiet and enduring love of Lizzie, even when there appeared to be no hope that she returned the affection.

“You may read too many novels.” She winked.

“Says the woman in two book clubs,” he teased, tossing plucked grass at her.

“Hey! One of them is a professional book club so we only read nonfiction.” She ripped a few blades of grass free and tossed them at him in playful indignation. Elle bit her lip, but allowedthe question rattling inside her to come out. “If you knew she wasn’t your Lizzie, why did you marry her?”

“Evan had died, and my mom was so sad. I think I just wanted to see her smile again. At the time, I didn’t realize why I was doing it. We had been dating a few years and I thought…” He struggled upright and stared into his lap, refusing to meet her glance.

“When did you realize?”

He shrugged. “Marianne and I didn’t fight. We just existed, doing the things couples do…getting married…buying a house. We were living in Ithaca at the time, and Noah had moved back here, so he’d drive up to see me from time to time. He saw it before I was willing to see it and told me I didn’t love her.”

“Wow.”

“It wasn’t anything about Marianne. He liked her. I liked her. Still do. We’ll text every few months to check in. I worried about divorcing her but not about her. I knew she’d be fine, but I worried about what my parents would think. I ha…ha…had…” He closed his eyes tightly as if hiding, not from his stumbling words but from what they meant. “I didn’t want to fail them. A few months later, we separated.I moved here. I moved in with Noah until the divorce was final and the house was sold. When I took over the clinic and then bought the farmhouse, Noah was with me every step of the way.”

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