Bare Devotion. Geri Krotow

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      “Please don’t, Deidre. Goodbye.” He closed the door behind her and threw the deadbolt. As soon as he saw her drive away he went and locked the back French doors. Deidre had been a master of unwelcome entry when they’d first broken up, and he doubted she’d lost that skill.

      For the millionth time since the wedding day, he asked himself how his past had come calling in the cruelest manner at the exact moment he thought he was going to begin the happiest part of his life.

      * * * *

      Upstairs, Sonja allowed her fury to fuel her packing. Thankfully the upstairs didn’t smell as mildewy as the main floor, and she’d stored her suitcases in her closet. She blindly grabbed whatever outfits looked like they’d be comfortable, eschewing her favorite skintight sheath dresses and higher heels. She found no reason to linger or wallow in her self-pity as long as Miss Let-Me-Fuck-Your-Jilted-Groom was in the house. With Henry.

      “Son of a bitch!” Her hands shook, and she grasped the side of her largest piece of luggage, willing herself to not break down. Hadn’t she shed enough tears? Crying over her stupidity that led her to believe Henry was in love with her and not using her to help him prove to himself he was different from the boy who’d people-pleased his parents was one thing. Sobbing over the vacuous perfect Southern belle who all but pulled kneepads out of her huge leather designer bag? No. Not happening.

      The back of her neck burned, and she whirled around. Henry stood a couple of feet into the room, his hair uncharacteristically sticking up, which was difficult with the usual short crew he kept.

      “Leave me be.” She opened the nearest dresser drawer and grabbed handfuls of underwear.

      “No. Not until you hear me out.”

      “Hear you out? I think I’ve seen all I need to.”

      “God damn it, Sonja. You’re the one who left me. We already know your side of the story. Let me tell you mine.”

      She went into the master bathroom and began to clear the vanity of her cosmetics. Her fingers touched the edge of the bottle of her favorite perfume, and the perky designer shape seemed to mock the woman she was only two weeks ago.

      “Say what you have to say. I’m listening, but I don’t have time to stop packing, Henry.”

      He stood on the tiled bathroom floor, watching her as if he didn’t know what to expect next. Good.

      “I did not invite Deidre to the wedding. That was my parents’ doing. With help from Deidre.”

      “Really? And you’re telling me that such a well-bred Southern belle like her decided to show up without having received a formal invitation?”

      Red crept up Henry’s neck to his much longer hairline. “I, ah, I think my parents sent her a real invite, but she would have showed up anyway, from what she just told me.”

      Confused, Sonja paused. “You mean they used their invitation?”

      “They asked me for a few extra invitations. I gave them five.”

      “And never mentioned it to me.” Another chink in the armor she’d invisibly knit over her heart. She waved her hand under his gaze. “This isn’t the issue. The issue remains what it was a month ago.”

      “Twenty-three days.”

      “Fine. Twenty-three days ago you hadn’t told me that your former fiancée had not been just a bad breakup. That you had a restraining order against her, that she’d stalked you and the women you’d dated, and she may have had her sights on me!”

      “But she didn’t. I mean, yes she broke her restraining order, but that’s not the issue, Sonja. The issue is that you and I aren’t, haven’t been in forever, communicating. Talking.”

      Sonja’s gut twisted at that one. “The main reason we should never have considered marriage is that you never, ever were completely honest with me. You’ve only told me what you had to in order to keep me pacified, Henry.” And she’d let him pacify her, an issue she was doing her best to dissect.

      You weren’t honest with him, either. She hated her conscience in this moment.

      He didn’t answer and dropped his gaze after several seconds.

      Sonja opened the linen closet and pulled out two towels. “Ugh!” Covered in what looked like a black powder, the once pristine white cotton gave off a telltale stench of post-storm mildew. She dropped the towels into the master bath.

      “Stop, Sonja. We’re going to have to throw it all out, whatever we can’t clean. By the way? The homeowner’s doesn’t begin to cover most of the damage.”

      “Do you think I honestly give a flying fuck about material damages?” As if to agree with her, the baby chose that time to make her hormones jump and her nausea swell.

      “What?” Henry must have seen it in her face.

      She felt hot and sweaty and had about five seconds to make it to the toilet. Sonja slammed the door to the tiny commode room behind her and let the dry heaves come. She’d already tossed her breakfast in the crepe myrtle. And now Henry was witness to her “illness.” Shit.

      * * * *

      Henry heard Sonja throwing up and guilt sucker-punched him. He’d made her so upset that she was puking, for fuck’s sake. Her stomach was strong as an iron drum when it came to spicy Louisiana food, but get Sonja emotionally riled up and it went to her gut.

      He stared at the empty bathroom counter, save for her large cosmetic bag that she’d stuffed to the gills with her beauty stuff. How had what he’d thought was a rock-solid relationship blown to smithereens in one act of poor judgment on his part?

      Henry sank onto the floor, his back against the brass claw-foot tub. Deidre had shown signs of stalking him again, or rather, stalking Sonja, for the past six months. He’d meant to tell Sonja several different times, but he didn’t want to rock the smooth sailing they’d had since they’d moved in together three years ago.

      Even that was a lie. There’d been rough patches that he’d maneuvered by going over-the-top in his adoration of Sonja. Told himself he was distracting her with his charm.

      All he’d been doing was avoiding his own discomfort at how gullible and blind he’d been to Deidre’s manipulative actions. He destroyed Sonja’s trust along with the incredible bond they’d shared from the moment they’d met. While his hopes of a future with her were gone—he’d never trust her again, either, not after the spectacular way she’d dumped him—he didn’t want to leave things so acrimonious between them.

      The door swung open, and Sonja didn’t spare him a glance. At the sink, she threw cold water on her face.

      “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

      Her eyes were bright and fierce as she glared at him in the mirror. “I feel fine.”

      “Liar.”

      She ignored him as she looked around the room for a clean towel. Of course there were none. “Hell.”

      “There’s СКАЧАТЬ