His sigh echoed in her ear. “I know that, Sydney. I didn’t mean to imply...” He trailed off. “You shouldn’t have left. We could’ve made it work.”
“Daniel,” she interrupted, tired. So damn tired of this conversation. Of how she just couldn’t make him understand how she’d been disappearing in her marriage. He didn’t get it. Would never get it because his big, forceful personality wouldn’t allow him to grasp how she couldn’t have been happy being by his side as his wife, all her needs taken care of, wanting for nothing.
Wanting for nothing except her identity.
Happiness.
Love.
To Daniel, they’d been happy, enjoyed a good, solid marriage. For her? She’d been slowly suffocating.
The breaking point hadn’t been an argument. She hadn’t caught him cheating. It hadn’t been his antiquated ideas of gender role assignments—though heaven forbid he wash a dish, or she take out the trash.
No, it’d been none of those.
The catalyst had been when she’d attended one of many school fundraising functions with him and one of the board members had introduced Daniel and her to a potential benefactor as Dr. Daniel Pierson and his wife.
Just his wife.
As if she had no identity, no, no...purpose other than being an extension of her husband.
In that moment, the restlessness that had been hounding her for months crystallized inside her chest like a diamond of truth. Clear. Sharp. And precious.
She couldn’t do it anymore.
But the realization had blindsided Daniel. Her request for a divorce had left him frustrated and confused.
“No,” he insisted. “You walked away instead of trying. That’s what married couples do. They work hard at their relationship. They don’t just quit. You quit on me, Sydney. On us.”
She didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. Because he was right. And even though guilt blasted her like a furnace, she still wouldn’t have stayed.
He’d called her impulsive, immature for ending their marriage to seek something that only existed in the movies.
To her, it’d been the most mature decision she’d ever made.
“Even if you didn’t want to stay married, we could’ve co-parented here. But now, I don’t even have that option with you nearly a thousand miles away. I have no say when it comes to you. Not in our life together, not in my child’s life.”
“Daniel, I’m sorry,” she whispered, giving him the words she’d uttered so many times over the last six months that they should be tattooed on her tongue.
“I know. So you’ve said many times,” he murmured, suddenly sounding weary. Pain spasmed in her chest that she’d brought this proud man to that. “Look, Sydney. This isn’t the reason I’m calling. I...” He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was firmer, stronger. Dean Pierson. “I’ve been seeing someone.”
She stared straight ahead, not really seeing the black-and-gold awning of Mimi’s Café across the street. His words rattled in her head, and she even mouthed them to herself. I’ve been seeing someone. She waited. Waited for the burst of jealousy, the flash of resentment that he could berate her for leaving him and in the next breath announce that he’d moved on.
But nothing.
No, that wasn’t true. Relief stirred behind her sternum. If he’d fallen for someone else, maybe it would ease the anger he harbored toward her. Maybe...
Maybe it would absolve her of some of the shame weighing her down like a cinder block.
And maybe she really was as selfish as he’d called her to turn this around and make it about her.
“I’m happy for you, Daniel,” she said. “I really am. She must be a wonderful person.”
“She is,” he agreed. “Veronica is a special education teacher with a master’s and is currently working on her PhD. We have a lot in common.” In other words, she was everything Sydney wasn’t. She tried not to allow the petty jab to find purchase, but no such luck. “I’ve also told her about the baby. She’s excited to be a part of his or her life if we continue to move forward.”
“That’s...nice.” Sydney found it hard to breathe past the feelings swirling inside her. The jealousy that had been missing over his new relationship now punched her in the gut, winding her. Another woman in her child’s life? Possibly claiming her baby? That didn’t sit well. Logically, Sydney understood that most likely she and Daniel would one day have partners who would be potential stepparents. Still... Shit. She wasn’t ready to deal with this. Not today. “Congratulations, Daniel. I have to go, but I’ll be in contact.”
“Fine. Please make sure you do, Sydney.” He paused. “I won’t be kept out of my child’s life.”
Without a goodbye, he hung up, and for several seconds, she stood there, the phone still pressed to her ear.
Slowly, she lowered her arm and tucked the cell back into her purse. Disquiet lodged in her chest.
She was being silly. Paranoid, even.
And yet...
Why had that sounded faintly...ominous?
* * *
WHAT WAS THE SAYING?
You’re only paranoid when you’re wrong.
She needed to be wrong.
Sydney shook her head, calling herself a fool. But it didn’t stop her from pulling open the entrance door to the big brick building that housed the offices of Coltrane A. Dennison, Esq., and walking into the quiet, elegant lobby.
Yet the gleaming woods, shining glass and inviting furniture did very little to calm the tumbling of her stomach. Nothing could accomplish that but answers.
And as much as she would’ve liked to continue avoiding Cole, as she’d done for the past week, he was the person who could give her answers. It showed her desperation that she’d peeled out of the clinic parking lot and headed straight here. Without granting herself time to consider how she would face Cole after he’d hightailed it out of her cottage like his firm ass had been on fire.
Did it hurt knowing she made him uncomfortable? God, yes. It ached in a place she wished she could shut off. That place was right next to the one where a wholly inconvenient and unsolicited lust resided for the man with the tragic angel’s face. Too bad she couldn’t evict both squatters. Because neither one of them boded well for her.
That day in her kitchen, when his strong, big hands had grasped her hips—powerful hands that had been so gentle as they guided her down the ladder and to the floor—her heart had thudded against her breastbone, pumping a languid warmth through her veins. He’d been both dominant and tender. And the combination was devastating.