He pulled into a parking space, one of the few remaining. “Took a while but we made it. You okay?”
Sure. She was going to be spending the night in a little hotel room with the only man she’d ever loved—a man who happened to hate her with every fiber of his being. Why wouldn’t she be okay?
“Fine,” she answered, quite certain he knew it was a lie.
The hotel’s website hadn’t exaggerated its charm, as websites often did. It was actually quite lovely. Red and green Christmas lights ran along the eaves and a brightly lit Christmas tree twinkled a cheery welcome through the blowing snow.
“You need help getting out?” he asked.
“No. Grab the bags,” she answered.
He nodded and went to the bed of the pickup truck to collect their luggage.
She opened her door and slid down into ankle-deep snow. Sometimes she could be so stupid and stubborn. She should have accepted his help. She could have used her cane but it was back with her suitcase. Stupid her.
The prospect of walking the twenty feet from the pickup truck to the front door of the inn through the snow was as daunting as climbing Mount Hood. Her balance wasn’t the greatest under the best of circumstances. Throw in icy conditions and she seemed predestined for a fall.
Still, she started out after him and had only made it a few faltering steps when he returned without the luggage.
He thrust out his arm. “Here. Grab hold. I should have thought to help you first before taking the bags.”
His words weren’t quite an apology but close to it. She was torn between embarrassment that she needed his help and gratitude that he saw the need and stepped forward so that she didn’t have to ask.
“Sorry. I’m not very...stable on ice.”
In her fleeting glance at his features, she saw questions in his eyes, but his mouth tightened and he remained silent. She turned her attention back to the sidewalk. He had to wonder about her physical condition and the obvious speech issues that were new since she had left him, but he didn’t ask.
Luke dropped her arm as soon as they walked through the outside door into the welcome warmth of the inn’s lobby. She told herself she had no right to be hurt by his obvious unwillingness to touch her, but it still stung.
A half dozen people stood in line, either looking for rooms or waiting to check in.
“I’m sorry but we don’t have anything left,” the flustered clerk was saying to a desperate-looking couple. “I understand an emergency shelter has been set up for stranded travelers at the elementary school, which is two blocks to the east.”
Oh dear. The situation was worse than she’d thought. She wasn’t looking forward to spending the night in a hotel room with Luke, but at least they had a room with beds and wouldn’t have to sleep on a cot in a classroom somewhere.
“Take a seat and I’ll check us in,” Luke said, gesturing to the only open spot in the lobby, next to a very pregnant woman who was trying to entertain a toddler on her lap with her cell phone.
Elizabeth made her way to the seating area, surrounding a river rock fireplace where a gas blaze cheerfully burned.
The woman with the toddler smiled at Elizabeth. “This is crazy, isn’t it? I thought we were taking a simple trip to visit my folks in Boise before the holidays. It’s my dad’s seventy-fifth birthday tomorrow. This blizzard came out of nowhere. When we checked the weather, they said it would only be a few inches, so we thought we were fine.”
Poor thing. Traveling with little ones had to be tough enough without road emergencies. “Do you have a room?” she asked, with some vague, crazy idea of giving her theirs. Elizabeth wouldn’t want to sleep at the elementary school, but it would be better than having to live with the guilt at knowing she sent this pregnant woman and darling little girl back out into that storm.
“We do. We called ahead and were fortunate enough to book one of the last two rooms in town.”
“I think we got the other one.”
The woman smiled at her. “Yay us.” She nodded to the line at the reception desk. “Is that your husband in line behind mine?”
She wanted to say Luke wasn’t her husband, but it seemed foolish to protest. He was, anyway. She just hadn’t been any sort of wife to him for the last seven years.
Instead, she simply nodded.
“Lucky you,” the woman said with a grin. “I’m Lindsey Lowell, and this is my little girl, Aubrey.”
“Hi, Aubrey. Hi, Lindsey. I’m...Sonia Davis.”
She caught a little on the name that had been given to her seven years ago. Even after a few hours, she was already back to being Elizabeth in her head.
“Hi,” Aubrey said. “I’m this many.”
She held up two fingers and Elizabeth smiled. “That’s big. What are you playing?”
“Balloons. I share.” The girl held out the phone for Elizabeth.
“Um. Thanks.” She wasn’t quite sure what to say or do.
“I show you.” Without waiting for permission, Aubrey climbed from her mother’s lap to Elizabeth’s, demonstrating how to pop the balloons on the phone app.
“Aubrey. Honey. Come back.”
“No. It’s fine,” Elizabeth said. She didn’t have the chance to interact with an adorable little girl very often. If nothing else, it would give the pregnant mom a break for a moment.
A few moments later, she was engrossed in the girl, who delighted in showing her how to blow the balloons up bigger and make them float across the screen, then how to pop them rather violently with a finger.
It was actually calming in a zen sort of way, a little like playing with Bubble Wrap.
“Pretty,” Aubrey exclaimed, clapping her hands when Elizabeth inflated a purple balloon until it filled the whole screen. The girl pointed her chubby little index finger at the phone and popped it with a relish that made Elizabeth smile.
She was so busy playing with the girl, she didn’t notice Luke return until she suddenly sensed his presence. She looked up in time to see something dark flash across his expression.
She had rarely played with their own children like this. She had wanted to, had ached to be the mother they needed, but the dark emptiness had been overwhelming.
We would all be better off without you.
The memory of those words coming from his mouth was as crystal clear as if he had said them moments earlier.
How funny that she still had many gaps in her memory but that one was so distinct. She could see the pain in his eyes, hear the frustration in his voice as he said them.
She had goaded him into it during one of her terrible days, had begged him over and over again to admit it.
He hadn’t wanted to but she had finally worn him down. Fine. You want me to say it? Right now it’s true. We would all be better off without you.
She hadn’t been able to be the wife he needed during those four years or a mother for their children.
There had been good days during that time; she was certain of it. Before she got pregnant with Bridger, she had tried so hard to be a good mother to Cassie, but she knew the bad times had far outnumbered the good.
“Our room is ready,” he said gruffly.
She