Page 54 of The Wives of Hawthorne Lane
He tucked one of her blond curls behind her ear, his touch as gentle as a brush of feathered wings. “Then it’s a date. Just tell me when.”
Libby rolls to a stop at an intersection, the red light suspended above the street glowing bright in the dark night. It takes her a moment to register where she is. If she makes a right at this intersection, she’ll be headed back home, to Hawthorne Lane, but if she makes a left, the road will take her to Bill’s town house.
Libby realizes with a start that this is the first time all night that she’s thought of Bill. Of Heather. Tonight, with Peter, was the first time in the past year that her mind hasn’t been consumed with regrets over mistakes she’d made in her marriage, with worries about the future. Tonight, she wasn’t Bill’s soon-to-be-ex-wife, she wasn’t Lucas’s mom, she was just…Libby. And that was enough.
Libby doesn’t know whether things will work out with Peter in the long run—after all, this was only their first date—but she knows now that either way, she’ll be okay.
As the light turns green, she looks in both directions down the empty stretches of pavement, at the crossroads of her life.
She flicks on her right-turn signal. It’s time for her to move on.
32
Hannah
Hawthorne Lane
Hannah’s fingers twitch over the keyboard of her laptop. She tells herself there’s no point in checking her email again, that there will be nothing new, that it’s a dead end, that it always has been. But still, she feels drawn to it, as if it’s a compulsion she can no longer resist, the way one might pick at an old scab.
“Good morning, gorgeous.”
The sound of Mark’s voice just over her shoulder makes Hannah jump in her seat. She slams the top of her laptop shut as he nears the back of the couch; his strong hands reach over it to massage her shoulders.
“You’re up awfully early,” he says before leaning down to tenderly kiss Hannah’s neck.
She forces a smile as she looks up at her husband, into his kind, guileless eyes. “Just wanted to get a head start on some of the event programming for the library next month.” The lie is thick and filmy on her tongue.
“I love how much you love your job,” he says, trailing his fingers along Hannah’s collarbone. “But if you’re open to a distraction…”
Mark’s hand travels lower, dips under the neckline of her shirt, fingers the lace at the edge of her bra. She feels a swell of want as he cups her breast, his thumb moving methodically over the mound of her nipple, his breath warm in her ear.
“Come back to bed,” he says, his voice a low growl. “I can be a little late getting to the office today…”
“I…” Hannah wants to. There is nothing she wants more than tofollow Mark back to their bedroom. She wants to be the kind of newlywed bride who makes love to her husband on a sunny morning. But she isn’t. She can’t be. Not with all the lies that have built up between them, the threat to their marriage that lurks around every corner. How can she let herself go? How can she be in the moment with Mark while knowing that she could lose him at any second? “I should probably finish up here.”
Mark sighs. He walks around the side of the couch and positions himself next to Hannah. Gently, he lifts the laptop from her thighs, sets it on the coffee table in front of them, and takes her hands in his.
“Talk to me,” he says, his fingers massaging the inside of her wrist.
“About what?” The words spring too lightly from her lips.
“Is it me? Have I done something to upset you?”
“Mark, no, of course not. Why would you think that?”
Mark lets go of her hands, pulls his own back into his lap. “I’m at a loss here, Hannah, I really am. I feel like…you’ve changed since we moved here. You’ve been so distant. Secretive. At first I chalked it up to the move. I know coming here, to Hawthorne Lane, was a big adjustment for you. But it’s been almost three months now, and it feels as though this space between us is only getting bigger. Was this move a mistake? Are you happy here?”
“I am,” she responds without hesitation. “I love my job, I’ve made friends, Iamhappy here.”
“So, then, what is it? What’s changed between us?”
Mark’s eyes search Hannah’s face, and she can see the hurt in them. The confusion. It’s enough to make her feel as if her heart is being torn out of her chest. She wants to tell him the truth. She wants to assure him thatsheis the problem, not him. But she knows that she can’t. She thinks of the notes, the threat that is circling her like a shark in open water. Hannah doesn’t know how it’s possible, but someone, somewhere, knows about her past, about the worst thing she’s ever done, and they’re going to use it against her. She can’t let Mark be dragged down with her. Hannah hates that her lies are hurting him, but she knows that the truth would do more than hurt him—it would destroy him. “Nothing has—”
“Please don’t,” Mark cuts in. “Please don’t pretend you don’t seeit. I’m losing you, Hannah. Piece by piece, day by day, I’m losing you. And you won’t even tell me why. It feels like torture, just sitting here watching it happen without knowing how to fix it.”
“I’m right here, I promise you. I haven’t gone anywhere.”
“Maybe physically you’re here, but…I can see it when it happens. When you drift off to somewhere I can’t reach you. I thought we were closer than this. I thought…God, I thought we were going to start trying for a baby. But now you won’t even let me near you.”
