Part 23 (1/2)

She sighed. Sebastian leaned against her leg and gave her hand a lick. ”But you're not going to?”

”No.”

Just that one word-one syl able-that left her nowhere to go, had never left her anywhere to go. Walt had always been so strong, so complete unto himself, she'd never known how to tel him she was fal ing apart. Until one day, she'd woken up to discover the chasm between them had grown so big that now she was living in a run-down apartment and he was going on about his life as if she'd never been part of it. And the hole she'd tumbled into after Danny's death had just seemed to get deeper and deeper and she'd kept fal ing and fal ing with nothing to stop the downward spiral.

Until the day she'd found a kitten behind her house. Too little to survive on its own, she decided to take it to the local animal shelter only to discover they had more than they could cope with already. Standing and watching the goings- on, she'd realized here was a place that needed her. The more she'd helped out, the more she'd gotten involved, the more she'd found a purpose, saving one life at a time until now she'd come ful circle, standing in front of the one man whose life she'd destroyed. And she'd come asking favors.

”This was a very bad idea.”

Good grief. Had she said that out loud?

The only break in Walt's posture was the c.o.c.k of his head to the side. Stil no smile or even that crinkle at the corner of his eyes that pa.s.sed as one. ”Probably, but let's hear it anyway.”

She held up the end of the leash. ”I need a home.”

His arms folded across his chest. ”You have one.”

”For him.” She licked her suddenly dry lips. ”Just for two months.”

His eyebrow c.o.c.ked up. ”No.”

Oh, d.a.m.n. ”I don't have anywhere else to turn.”

With every pa.s.sing moment, Sebastian's weight grew heavier against her thigh. She could feel his heartbeat, or maybe it was her own. She couldn't think when she was around Walt. Just looking at his face, so like her son's, brought back the pain, awakened the guilt until it felt like there was a monster inside her, clawing to get out.

”Whose fault it that?”

”Mine.” It was al hers.

With an expression she couldn't interpret, Walt knelt down in front of the dog. She hoped he didn't look closely enough to see what she had when she'd looked into Sebastian's face. Walt didn't need any more pain.

Walt offered Sebastian his hand. The dog wuffled the back and then ducked his head slightly in invitation.

Walt hesitated. It was easy to understand why. She'd had the same concern herself. ”He'd rather take the pain than go without the pet.”

That brought his gaze back to hers. ”You know that about him, but you never saw it in me?”

She blinked. The monster inside howled, and raged, tearing strips from her soul. She clenched the leash in her hand. Why did he have to do this? ”I knew you hurt.”

”But you didn't know I needed you.”

Was he asking or tel ing? ”No. You didn't.”

He swore. She flinched. Same conversation. Same pattern. Same wel of pointless tears choking off her voice.

Same pointless effort. ”I just need a place for him to stay for two months. That's al .”

Sebastian lapped Walt's cheek. Walt rubbed his knuckle under the flap of the dog's big ears. His gaze met hers.

”Wel , I need a hel of a lot more than that.”

She knew that. Had always known it, but she couldn't bring Danny back and didn't have anything of equal value to give. Walt stood. She took a step back. He caught her hand.

Memories flashed through her mind's eye in a raw bleed.

Walt holding her hand at their first high school dance. Walt holding her hand when she'd been rejected from her first choice of col ege. Walt holding her hand as the doctor walked away that fateful night. He'd been her first love, her first lover, first husband, and first failure. She looked down to where his big capable hand swal owed hers. And now another first. The first man she'd used.

His fingers squeezed. ”You know my price.”

She shook her head, denial, protest, fear. ”I just had nowhere else to go.”

His mouth set in a straight line. ”This should have been your first stop.”

”No, it shouldn't.”

There was so little holding her together. Just being here was fraying the invisible knots she'd used to bind the pain into a manageable ache, keeping it contained while she ran from fight to fight creating endings she could live with.

”But you're here now.” His thumb stroked over the back of hers in a hauntingly familiar comfort. His grip didn't loosen. ”I've been waiting six months for this moment, and I've got to tel you, sweet, I'm d.a.m.n tired of waiting.”

The statement lashed over the open wound of her guilt.

Tears seared her eyes as the agony rose in a whirling twist, hoa.r.s.ening her voice. ”I'm giving you a divorce. What more do you want from me?”

He took the leash from her hand. His pale gray eyes met hers. ”What I've always wanted. My wife.”

CHAPTER THREE.

She fol owed as far as the steps. Walt led the dog into the house. Sebastian balked just inside the door, looked back over his shoulder, and whined. She shook her head. She couldn't go back in there, couldn't bear to see the bright interior with al its sunny colors, al its hopes and expectations. They'd scrimped and saved to buy this house, waiting longer for a place of their own because they'd planned on a family and they'd wanted just the right house in just the right neighborhood. They'd wanted everything perfect. And it had been. Perfect house, perfect pregnancy, perfect baby. The only thing they'd forgotten to ask for was the perfect ending. But who could have thought it would end like this? With their baby dead, their dreams in ashes around their feet, and the only thing linking them together anymore a sick dog and loss?

Walt motioned with his hand. ”You're letting the air- conditioning out.”

”Sorry.”

Her feet wouldn't move forward or backward. Even when Walt dropped the leash and turned, she could only stare at him helplessly, hope rising, panic building. He reached out.

She flinched. His hand dropped. Inside the hope that he could forgive her died al over again. And then he did the most extraordinary thing. He cupped her cheek in his hand.

The way he'd used to. The way she'd thought he'd forgotten.

”This never stopped being your home, Kathy.”

She hugged her arms across her chest. ”It seemed like it.”