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  “Oh great,” she lied. “Thank you so much for having us again this weekend.”

  Francis shot her a glance, her lip curved on one side. “You don’t have to lie to me honey,” she said sympathetically, standing up to look at her.

  “So, you’ve heard I’m good at that, huh?”

  Francis walked over and sat next to Liz, looking out into the ocean. “I just meant you don’t have to put on a strong face for me.” She tapped Liz on the knee.

  Liz looked at Francis genuinely. “I’m sorry to bring all this drama to your house.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that my eldest son’s stupidity years ago is threatening your marriage,” she said as if she were simply apologizing for bad weather. Francis was known for outright saying what everyone was thinking.

  Still, her candid words struck Liz. But she needed to remind her that she was forgetting an important fact. “I was there too, Fran.”

  Francis stared into the ocean. Her eyes far away. “Honey, I’m a strong believer in leaving the past in the past. Nothing good ever comes of bringing it back up again,” her voice determined. “Trust me. There’s no reason to cause any pain when it’s so unnecessary.”

  “Why is it unnecessary?”

  “Because we can’t change the past. No matter when or how you would have told Matt the truth, it wouldn’t have changed what happened.” She looked at Liz thoughtfully. Then gave her a serious, firm look. “If you had asked me years ago what you should do, Liz, I would have advised you to take this to your grave.”

  Liz’s eyes widened in shock.

  Francis smiled, “But I’m also biased.”

  Now Liz was really confused. It must have shown because Francis continued.

  “If your reason was because you didn’t want to sever my boys’ relationship, then I am grateful. If you didn’t tell him because you’re afraid of losing him, then I’m glad that he’s found someone that loves him enough to carry that secret.” Her look turned distant again. “If you lied to protect the purity of the way he sees you…then I understand.”

  Liz couldn’t believe that this woman had been sitting beside her, understanding every reason that Liz had to keep this from Matt. The man she loved more than anyone. She fought this battle with herself for years only for it to end tragically. Regardless of her mother-in-law’s kind and understanding words, the venomous pain tugged at her chest again.

  Liz couldn’t hold back anymore. She started sobbing. “It’s all of the above.”

  Francis put a warm hand on Liz’s back and rubbed it gently, pulling her coffee from her hands and placing it on the wicker table in front of them. “I know it is,” she whispered.

  Francis stood to go back inside. No doubt giving Liz time alone in her current state. Liz followed shortly after recovering. She finished her coffee then walked back into the kitchen. Megan, Ben’s wife, was sitting on one of the stools, with a large mug of coffee and an open laptop. Megan was a real estate agent, one who didn’t take days off. So it was no surprise that she’d be up and at it early, checking her listings. Megan hadn’t looked up right away. She never did. Her business came first.

  “Morning, Megan.”

  Her head popped up. “Hey. I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anyone come in.” She turned back at her work.

  Ben met Megan two summers ago, when Megan was showing him some condos on the Island. They hit it off and were living in one of those condos along the beach together a year later. They tied the knot last Christmas. Liz liked Megan a lot. Envied her at times. She was honest, strong and independent. She was by no means a people pleaser. If anything, Megan’s first impression might be a turnoff, but Liz appreciated every aspect of her. Her sister-in-law knew about what happened with Ben. Apparently, Ben had told her fairly soon after they started dating. Liz always appreciated that he had never been pushy about telling Matt. But by telling her that he’d been honest with Megan from the beginning, it was an unspoken suggestion.

  Liz shook her head. It was too late now.

  “It’s ok, I just came by for a refill. Then I’m heading back to my room to pack.”

  Megan frowned and opened her mouth to speak when Francis came back up into the kitchen from the basement.

  “What’s this about packing?” she asked. “I thought you weren’t leaving till Monday morning.”

  “Francis, I’m sorry. I just have so much to do for work,” she lied.

  Francis raised her eyebrow. “You teach the second grade and you’re not due back until September.”

  “August,” Liz weakly corrected.

  “That’s still a month and a half away,” she started to argue.

  “Francis, thank you so much for having us here this week.” Liz meant every word, but didn’t miss the hint of disappointment and regret in Francis’s eyes.

  Liz knew that Francis felt partially responsible for the recent events, for no other reason than insisting they all spend the Fourth of July weekend at their beach house.

  “Well you all need to have something other than coffee, I’m making eggs and pancakes for everyone.” Francis brushed away and started pulling at pots.

  “I’ll cut some fruit,” Liz offered.

  “Megan.” Matt’s greeting cut through the room.

  Unlike Liz and Ben, Matt and Megan hadn’t hit it off. Matt proclaimed to Liz once that he thought Megan was obnoxious and ‘too into her work’, and that she’d lacked warmth and sincerity. For this reason, the most Megan had ever got from Matt was a polite smile, a few cracks about Ben, and an occasional few words of advice.

  Megan smirked back, barely glancing away from her laptop. Francis got busy cracking eggs and mixing pancake batter. The woman was always quick and determined to keep her family together for as long as possible. Megan’s phone buzzed and she jumped on a call.

  Liz carefully stripped the leaves off the strawberries. The heartache and the distance that was so thick between her and Matt made her feel almost incapable of completing the simple task. She willed herself to keep her eyes on the fruit and suppress her every temptation to look at her husband.

  As she stood at the island counter, Matt brushed past her to reach for a coffee mug in the cabinet above and behind her head. She tried to ignore the way molten heat slid through her body with just a brush against her arm. It was as though they hadn’t touched in years. Her senses were filled with him and there was nothing she could do but wait until it faded. She swallowed hard. He must have known. Matt always knew when he affected her.

  “Morning,” Matt said, leaning in, inches away from her.

  “Morning,” Liz replied, matching his indifferent tone.

  Liz started to feel the world spinning around her. With the inability to concentrate on the task at hand, and her body in a vulnerable position, her senses seemed to heighten intensely. And it wasn’t just Megan’s side of the conversation she heard. Matt was shuffling and pouring coffee behind her. She glanced over at Francis, who’d already been flipping her first set of pancakes as the sizzling intensified. She was grateful for the warning of the shadow behind her before the warm breath that followed.

  “How’d you sleep?” His words seemed forced.

  This made her look at him. Liz didn’t think she needed to speak. The burning she knew Matt would see behind her eyes should have been telling enough on how she slept. For a moment, she thought her stare might make him look away. Instead, he held her gaze. In his eyes, she saw no hint of concern...They were just…empty. Cold. Now that Liz had thought about it, it was the same look he would normally give someone like…Megan.

  “Just fine. Thanks,” she answered, then turned away from the icicles being shot at her. She reached for more berries, finally mastering the task.

  “Oh good, you’re all up.” Robert Owen, Matt’s father walked in through the back door, carrying a large, heavy-looking cooler.

  Liz had to admit that for a sixty-two-year-old, the man was in pretty good shape. He was about two or three inches shorter than Matt. His lig
ht brown hair was thin, but at least it still had color. He was very active. He ran a general contracting business and spent three out of the four seasons on his boat, Sydney.

  He set the cooler down by the round kitchen table.

  “What is all that?” Francis asked her husband. Partially annoyed, knowing whatever it was, she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Well we had all this beer stored in the boat during the cold weather. But now that’s it almost ninety out there, thought it might be a better idea to bring them back in.” Rob answered, moving to the kitchen sink and rolling up his sleeves.

  Matt moved away from Liz and walked over to the cooler. She instantly missed his presence. At least when he’d left her side before, she knew he was coming back. This time, she wasn’t sure.

  He opened the cooler to examine its contents. “Krane’s Lager? Tommy’s Lite? Hard Lemonade? Dad where do you get this stuff?”

  With the faucet running, and the sudden noise that filled the room, Megan, who was still on her call, got up and walked into the den.

  Robert watched her, then turned to his son. “Saw you sleeping in the den this morning.”

  From the corner of her eyes, Liz caught the glance Matt shot over at her, then picked up the cooler.

  “Where do you want this?” he asked his father flatly.

  “Downstairs fridge.”

  “Great,” he acknowledged before descending through the basement door and down the stairs.

  Rob focused on Liz. “Figured when Matt came home last night, you two’d work things out.”

  “Rob,” Francis warned.

  Ignoring his wife, Rob walked around the kitchen island counter. Liz stared at the berries, fighting the tickle in her throat. She put the knife down carefully and poured the cut-up fruit into a large bowl. Rob put an arm around Liz’s shoulder pulling her slightly.

  “He loves you, just give him some time.” His voice was genuine. Rob and Francis had truly been like the parents she needed at times.

  Megan whisked herself out of the den and back to her computer on the kitchen counter.

  Francis sighed. “Megan, honey, put the computer away, sit down at the table and have some breakfast with us.”

  “Is Ben still out on the boat?” Megan asked, ignoring the warm invitation.

  Rob let go of Liz and reached for his #1Dad mug that must have been over fifteen years old. “Yep,” he said proudly. “Sydney’s shinier than she’s been since the day I bought her,” he chuckled.

  “Well call him in here, breakfast is almost ready.” Francis turned to Liz. “Thank you for cutting these sweetie, now come sit down.” Her tone may as well have been for a six-year-old.

  Liz stared at the bowl of berries that had taken her the same amount of time to clean and cut, as it had taken Francis to whip up a batch of pancakes to feed a family of six adults. She couldn’t do this all day. She needed to get out of here.

  “Dad, there’s no room down in the fridge,” Matt complained as he reappeared into the kitchen.

  “Fran, we need to get rid of all those soda cans, no one drinks that stuff,” Rob barked.

  “Where am I supposed to put that stuff?” she argued.

  That was it. Liz had to get out—now. She felt the walls closing in on her. And the one person that she would turn to for support, couldn’t even look at her.

  It took some effort, but she managed to push herself off from where she’d been leaning on the refrigerator, her head still spinning.

  She tried to remain as calm as her mind and body would allow. “Hey Fran, save me a batch for later. I’m going to head out for a while.”

  “We’ll wait for you if you need to go for a walk,” her mother-in-law offered.

  “No, no.” Liz’s hands became uncontrollably shaky and she grabbed a water bottle off the counter to keep them steady. “I’m going sh-shopping.” Dammit. Her voice was shaky too, now. She sped up her speech in an attempt to cover it up. “I’ll be back in time to help you with dinner.”

  “That’s almost the whole day,” Francis complained. “I thought you’d at least stick around for the day since you two are leaving tonight.”

  Liz’s eyes flicked at Matt but his expression was blank. He must have guessed that they’d be leaving that night anyway. She hadn’t known what his plans were, but she wasn’t sticking around and wait for him to tell her.

  Liz grabbed her purse and went to stand directly in front of her husband. He swallowed hard and avoided her eyes before reaching into his pocket and handing her the car keys.

  From the corner of her eye, Liz noticed Francis give Megan a look.

  “I’ll go with you,” Megan offered, forcefully. She followed Liz down the corridor. “Tell Ben I’ll call in a little while?”

  Chapter 3

  MATT

  Matt glanced at the old-fashioned clock that hung over the kitchen table, for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon. 4:10. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and strolled to the family room. He sat back in one of the armchairs. A cold beer was exactly what he needed to get his mind off Liz. Then maybe a cold shower too. Seeing her this morning, remembering the passion they shared last night…And then the awful turn of events. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he walked back in there the night before. Maybe he thought she would be honest with him. Maybe there was a good reason for the lies. Although he couldn’t possibly imagine what. But he wanted to give her the chance. He loved her too much to give up on her. But she was still holding back. And truthfully, he wasn’t sure if it would have been enough.

  Ben was still on the boat. His father had been going back and forth making lame excuses on things he needed to help with and bring from the boat. But Matt knew it was because he hadn’t wanted Ben to be alone on the boat all day.

  The back door swung open. “Maybe you should bring the beer cooler back, if you’re spending the rest of the weekend there.”

  “I see you’ve already started,” Ben replied.

  Matt turned at his brother’s voice. Ben was only about an inch taller than Matt. Their build was similar; broad shoulders, and muscular, but Ben’s hair was a lot lighter. Mostly because he’d been a lifeguard during the summers and spent a lot of time in the sun, which had permanently lightened his hair. Matt never understood the buzz cut though, it made him look older than Matt by more than just two years. Just looking at his brother now made his insides turn. The last two days, Matt’s anger had calmed and now he was leveling between a state of disgust and hurt. “Thought you were dad,” Matt muttered.

  “When’d you get home?”

  “Last night.” Matt’s voice lowered even more.

  “Oh, that’s great,” Ben said cautiously. “Uh…did you guys talk?”

  How dare he? Matt glared at his brother until Ben looked away.

  “Sorry, it’s none of my business,” he offered. “I just figured since my wife’s out with yours, we could use the time to—”

  Matt couldn’t help but notice the way Ben had been avoiding her name. “You can sleep with her, but you won’t say her name?” he spat out.

  Ben looked down and nodded, as if this had been the blow he’d been waiting for.

  “Don’t do that,” Matt responded in disgust. “Don’t do that big brother, righteous thing, where you act like you want me to get angry so I would ‘get it all out.’”

  “I don’t want you to get angry. I want you to listen to me. I get that you were too upset to listen to us back there,” he said, pointing to the back porch, “but at least let me say this; Matt, she’s always loved you, only you. She was unspeakably upset that night. And…you know we were always close. I’ve loved her like a sister since you two started dating.”

  “That’s disturbing,” Matt raised a judgmental eyebrow at his brother.

  “Would you just listen!” Ben yelled. “I’m trying to explain what happened that night.”

  Matt stared at his brother coldly, remaining calm, unlike his quickly increasing heartrate. “I�
�m hearing you. You took advantage of her vulnerability.”

  “Who left her vulnerable?” Ben bit out, then inhaled a sharp breath. “And it’s not like I forced her into it,” he said slowly through gritted teeth.

  Matt drew back, stunned. He not only felt a knife in his own heart, but one on Liz’s behalf too. “Wow,” Matt blew out a slow, heavy breath, as he watched Ben squeeze his eyes shut and shake his head. Matt had known how Ben cared about Liz and imagined how his own words would have shocked him. “No. Maybe not. But she didn’t come knocking on your door, either.” Matt took one last swig of his beer and placed the empty bottle in the cardboard beer box on the kitchen island.

  Francis walked through the basement door carrying a bin of laundry. “Girls not back yet?” she asked.

  “Not yet, Mom. I talked to Megan and hour ago. They were just finishing a late lunch.”

  “Well, Liz said she’d help me with dinner, and I’m about to start cooking.”

  Matt knew his mother better. She didn’t like anyone in her kitchen when she was preparing dinner. She just liked having the family around and ready for it. She often humored Liz by letting her peel potatoes or toss the salad. And Matt had been grateful to his mother for breaking her rules.

  “Matt can you call her and see how far they are,” Francis asked.

  “Yeah,” he said flatly, silently grateful for the ask. He still wasn’t ready to really talk to her but maybe it was a good idea that they were heading home that night. The hour-plus drive would be torturous, but at least they could get away from everyone, and think about what they will do next.

  What he was going to do.

  Forgiving her for the betrayal and the lies was not something that seemed conceivable. Could they live together with just their love, and no trust? Why should he forgive her? And why in God’s name was he sitting there, struggling with himself and feeling guilty for considering ending their marriage?

  Ending their marriage.

  Could I do it? Why not? Liz had never once shown any hint of remorse or guilt or any implications that she’d been keeping a secret. The more he thought about it, the stronger his chest burned with rage. Working things out was not an option that he could handle at the moment.