“Mark.” The big brown eyes she’d looked into for the past fifteen years stared back, and they were the eyes of a stranger. She groaned…oh no…was that out loud? Mark didn’t react, so maybe she’d managed to stifle it. Determinedly, she fought back the tears that threatened.
“How are you?”
He must be kidding. “Fine.” She forced her one-word reply from her constricted throat.
His “friend” cleared her throat, and his blush deepened.
“Ali, this is Candi.”
“Hi.” Candi extended a perfectly manicured hand, and Ali absently shook it without saying a word.
“So, where’d you two meet? Online?” Crap…that had definitely slipped out. She clamped her teeth together. Finding out Mark had been looking up old girlfriends online was the beginning of the end of their marriage.
Mark’s unease turned to anger. It was a subtle shift; his expression didn’t change, but his eyes went from melted chocolate to hardened stone in an instant. Had Ali not known him so well, she might have missed it.
“No, at the gym.” Candi swung her long blonde hair over a slim but muscular shoulder. Her high-pitched voice grated on Ali’s already raw nerves.
Ali groaned, again. She was sure it was inwardly this time, since her teeth were still clenched tight.
“I…umm…it was good seeing you.” Mark placed his hand on Candi’s lower back and guided her past Ali and out the door.
Ali didn’t turn. She glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed the crushing scene, but no one appeared to be interested in the painful encounter. Angrily, she swiped at the single tear that managed to escape and approached the counter to pick up her dinner.
* * *
Mark forced himself to keep walking, his neck held rigid to keep from looking back over his shoulder. Anger lengthened his stride, leaving Candi struggling to keep up. He worked his jaw in an effort to unclench his teeth and relax. Why did Ali always have to make a sarcastic comment? It wasn’t like he hadn’t apologized, hadn’t tried to explain.
He had to get a grip. Taking a deep breath, he shoved his hand back through his hair. He couldn’t work up any interest in what Candi was saying.
She stopped walking.
“What’d you say?” He must have missed something important.
She stared pointedly at him. “I said, who was that?”
“Oh, sorry. That was Ali…”
She continued to stare, obviously waiting for more.
“My ex-wife.” Well, almost ex.
Candi glanced back toward the restaurant, shrugged one elegant shoulder, turned and continued on her way. The casual dismissal disturbed Mark, though he couldn’t say why. Candi was young, beautiful and in great shape. She was confident, over-confident really, and she obviously didn’t feel threatened by Ali. That was good. Right? So why did it bother him?
Ali was a beautiful woman. She had a mass of curly brown hair and big blue eyes you could easily lose yourself in. Eyes that had been filled with pain. Too much pain. She’d tried to hide it countless times, but he knew those eyes too well to miss such misery. That he’d put it there sent a pang of regret surging through him.
Was this really what he wanted? Did he really want a divorce? Ali was his high school sweetheart. They married young, but that was no excuse for what happened. Mark had gotten bored. When he ran into an old girlfriend he hadn’t seen since high school, that little spark of excitement missing between him and Ali appeared. Of course, he realized now he should have talked to Ali about it, instead of getting online and looking for trouble, but—
The tug on his hand pulled him back to reality. Candi stood glaring at him, her mouth a thin line of irritation.
“What?” He’d obviously missed something she’d said…again.
“I said, I have to go to tanning tonight. Do you want to take the food home and I’ll meet you there?”
He shrugged. Candi always had something to do for herself before they could spend time together—the gym, the spa, a massage, tanning, a mani-pedi or a hair appointment. Lately, it had been getting on his nerves. They hadn’t been dating long, only about a month, but he’d already learned, from past experience, he should drive her to tanning, sit in the parking lot and wait the half hour. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to go home, change into something comfortable and relax for a while. They were supposed to get storms, and if the heavy, dark clouds were any indication, they’d be coming soon.
“Why don’t you skip it tonight?”
Her glare turned to a scowl. “Why should I?”
“It’s late. I’m tired, hungry and want to get home before it rains.”
“What’s your problem? You’ve been acting weird since you ran into what’s-her-name.”
“Ali.” He’d made the correction absently, his mind still on the woman he’d loved for the past fifteen years. What had gone wrong between them? Had it all been his fault?
Candi’s face flushed. Uh…oh. What had he missed now?
“You know what, Mark?”
Fifteen years of marriage had taught him she wasn’t looking for an answer, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
“Why don’t you give me a call when you get over what’s-her…I mean…Ali?” She walked away, the sway of her hips deliberate. She already had her cell phone out, probably calling one of her friends for a ride.
Oh well, at least he knew what his mistake had been this time.
The sigh of regret was more for the loss of his marriage than the relationship with Candi. Candi was fun, and they’d had a good time, but neither of them had expected the relationship to go anywhere, and they’d never started dating exclusively. Ali, however, was a different story. What was he doing? Why was he going through with the divorce? Would she take him back if he asked? Begged? Apologized…again? He stood on the sidewalk, looking after Candi but not really seeing her, until the first drops of rain started to fall. By the time he reached the car, he was soaked.
Ali stepped out of her shoes as she walked through the door, grateful for the freedom to wiggle her toes for a moment. Dropping her bag on a chair in the foyer, she pulled the mail from under her elbow, where she’d tucked it on her way into the apartment building she now called home. She threw the small stack onto the coffee table, along with the bag of Chinese food, and was relieved when she was finally able to push the wet hair out of her face. She went to change into something dry and comfortable, her thoughts once again turning to Mark—as if they’d strayed from him for one second since seeing him.
She used to love coming home on nights like this. Memories of Mark waiting for her, the two of them snuggling under a warm blanket, watching movies, listening to the rain pound against the windows, assailed her. Coming home then had been cozy, comforting. Coming home now was just lonely. She pushed the thoughts from her mind, creating a barrier of resolve to keep them from sneaking up on her.
When she returned to the living room, in her comfy sweats and oversized men’s shirt, she spread her dinner and laptop on the coffee table. Pulling her unruly mass of wet hair back into a ponytail, she picked up the phone.
Kendra answered on the first ring. “Hi, Ali. Is everything okay?”
Ali took a deep breath. Was everything okay? She didn’t have an answer. “Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”