Page 74 of The Homemaker
“My toes hurt just thinking about it.”
She giggled. “Give yourself a little more credit. You’ve taught me to dance.”
I unlocked the car. “I’ve taught you to sway so you don’t have to step on my toes as much.”
“That’s what I said. You taught me to dance.”
I tried to grin instead of pout, but damn the clock continued to tick. Dancing wasn’t going to change that. And by that point, I just wanted to crawl under the sheets with her and convince her to tell me everything or invite me to come with her—something more than blind faith that she’d return. I wasn’t religious enough to feel comforted by that.
“I didn’t know rain was predicted,” she said as we pulled onto the street and droplets splattered against the windshield.
“Me neither.” I turned on the wipers.
The gravity of our last hours together seemed to leave us without anything to say. I opened my mouth to speak more than once, but each time, I closed it just as quickly because the right words weren’t there.
As we approached a bridge over the river, I saw something in the road and slowed down. When I realized my car was hydroplaning, I let up on the brakes. Still, the car drifted a bit to the side, and Alice lost it.
“Noooo!” She lunged for the steering wheel.
“What are you doing?” I tried to push her away beforeshe steered us down the embankment or into the water. I had things under control. There was no need to panic.
Before I got the car stopped along the side of the road, she unbuckled and opened her door.
“What are you?—”
I reached for her, but she rolled out before I got to a complete stop.
“Alice!” I called, shoving the car intoParkand running after her as she slid on her butt down the embankment.
“Chris!” She yelled over and over before diving into the water.
Chapter Thirty
Murphy
It’s much easier to fall in love than out of love.
I can’t undowhat’s been done. Alice knows.
Now what?
As soon as I smell coffee, I know she’s in the kitchen making breakfast. The warm wood floor absorbs my steps without creaking.
Just as I reach the dining room, Hunter clears his throat and glances up from his phone, readers low on his nose. “Morning,” he says.
“Good morning. How are you feeling?” I sit at the opposite end of the table.
“Much better. Alice made elderberry cough syrup and gave me a dose before bed.”
I didn’t hear her come into the house last night, but before I can say as much, Alice brings his coffee, carefullypouring it into his gold-rimmed cup while offering me a quick smile.
“Coffee, Murphy?” she asks.
How can she look at me as if yesterday never happened?
I stare at her, waiting for her to break, but she doesn’t. So I nod slowly. “Thank you.”
She places another cup and saucer in front of me and fills it.
