The Real Mr Right. Karen Templeton

act was her trying to keep some control over a situation in which she probably felt pretty damn powerless. So he leaned back in the chair, plucked his soda can from the holder on the chair’s arm.

      “My own house is all torn up at the moment,” he said, taking a swig. “Okay, for longer than that. I’m doing most of the work myself so the remodel’s not exactly going like gangbusters. No heat, no indoor plumbing.... You get the picture. So I’m camping out here.”

      She folded her arms over her stomach. “Sabrina mentioned your divorce. I’m sorry.”

      Even after nearly a year, the sting still took him by surprise. “Thanks,” he said, appreciating her solicitude but having no intention of talking about his pulverized marriage. With her or anybody—

      “So you’re here alone?” she said.

      “No, Abby’s here, too.” Matt jabbed a finger toward the ceiling. “Upstairs. She was up this morning at five, hit the hay before it was even nine. Another reason why I’m here, since Pop didn’t much cotton to the idea of her being here alone.”

      “My goodness, how old is she now? Twenty?”

      “Twenty-two. And pissed as all get-out that I’m here, cramping her style.”

      “Oh, and like the Colonel doesn’t?”

      Well, look at that. Was that an actual twinkle in those pretty green eyes? Matt chuckled. “Yeah, but I’m her brother. Which is far worse. Especially since Pop spoils her rotten.”

      “Don’t give me that,” Kelly said, still smiling. Sorta. “I remember how you guys were when she was little. You all spoiled her rotten.”

      “Maybe. Maybe not,” he said, and Kelly laughed softly, then glanced toward the ceiling.

      “I can’t believe we didn’t wake her up. She must sleep like the dead.”

      “She does. Always has. Last summer? Kid slept through a thunderstorm that sounded like it was gonna take out half the town.” Alf shoved herself to her feet and padded over to Matt for some loving. He messed with the dog’s ears for a moment or two, then frowned back at Kelly. “So. This story...?”

      She cupped the back of her neck, her forehead creased. “You realize I can only give you my side?”

      “Better than no side.”

      “And if I sound completely delusional?”

      “Guess that’s a risk you’ll have to take.” He took another swallow of the nearly flat soda. “But I somehow doubt your ex is buried in the woods somewhere.”

      “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kelly said drily, then finally sat on the very edge of the sofa, jerking a limp red curl behind her ear. Her mouth pressed flat for a moment before she said, very softly, “I’m scared.”

      Point to him. “For you? The kids—?”

      “Both.”

      “Your ex hurt you?” When her eyes shot to his, he said, “You started to say something. Earlier.”

      “Right.” She blew a short, humorless laugh through her nose. “Depends on how you define hurt.”

      Matt released a slow, controlled breath. “You have custody?”

      Nodding, she rubbed her hands against her jeans. “Except Rick is not happy about that. At all. Sure, he has visitation, but more and more he keeps showing up unannounced to see the kids. At first I let it go, thinking at least it showed he cared. That he’s trying.” Her mouth thinned again. “But even before tonight, it was unsettling. For the kids, I mean. Well, me, too...”

      She mashed her lips together. “The frustration, the hurt, the anger—I understand that. Rick has every right to be disappointed. To be bitter. Hey, I’m pretty bitter and disappointed, too. I did love him,” she said, her eyes filling. “With all my heart. But the day came when I realized that love alone wasn’t enough to fix our broken marriage.”

      If it was one thing Matt had learned in his work, it was that one rarely got a straight shot at the truth, that more likely than not there’d be a few side trips along the way. But without those side trips, you were likely to miss something crucial. “Broken how?”

      Kelly leaned back, grabbing a throw off the sofa’s arm to wrap up in. “We met in college. Dated for... Gosh. Four or five years before we got engaged. Didn’t get married for another year after that. Certainly long enough that I felt pretty sure Rick was, well, normal. He was... He made me feel secure. Safe. Like...” She sighed. “Like my dad used to. Over and over, Rick assured me that I could lean on him, that’s what he was there for.

      “And he was a good provider. A good dad. We were happy. For a while, anyway. He is—or at least was—a gifted salesman. And I was good with being a stay-at-home mom. I even liked my in-laws,” she said with a flicker of a smile. “Except, when...when Aislin was about six months old, Rick lost his job. And another one didn’t exactly land in his lap. I’d been doing a few small catering jobs here and there—mostly friends of his parents, that sort of thing—so I figured that was as good a time as any to expand. I had a little money, from my dad’s life insurance policy, so I invested it in my business.” Alf switched allegiances, chuffing over to rest her chin on Kelly’s knee. She smiled, plowing her fingers through the dog’s thick fur. “It blossomed, more than I could’ve dreamed. But Rick...”

      Her hand fisted. “Instead of supporting my work—which was keeping us from losing the house—he resented my success. I don’t doubt,” she quickly added, “that his pride had taken a huge hit, that he was hurting because he couldn’t keep his promise to provide for us. Having watched my father go through the same thing when he got sick, I understood that. But...”

      Kelly folded her legs underneath her to prop her elbows on her knees, leaning her head in her hands. “I didn’t want a divorce. Not for a long time. Especially after Rick’s father died and I didn’t want to cause him any more pain. And in any case, I kept thinking—” dropping her hands, she sighed “—that this was one of those ‘or worse’ times and that somehow, we’d work through it. He was my husband, Matt,” she said at Matt’s pissed sigh, briefly meeting his gaze. “The man I’d promised to love no matter what...”

      For a moment, she seemed to disappear inside herself, then said, very softly, “And it wasn’t as if we hadn’t weathered rough patches before. Except then,” she said on another sigh, “Rick started drinking more than usual. And his behavior became more...irrational. He’d either fly off the handle over nothing—especially to Coop, who he’d pick on mercilessly—or sink into this bottomless depression that was almost worse than the anger. And when Coop’s grades started to slip, when he started overeating...”

      A sad smile preceded what she said next. “I finally told Rick it was over, I was done trying to hold our marriage together single-handedly. But until I actually handed him the divorce papers I’m sure he thought I was bluffing.”

      “How long ago was this?”

      “Almost three years.” Her eyes filled. “And despite everything, it broke my heart. Even though, yes, I’ve finally accepted that whatever’s going on in Rick’s head has nothing to do with me. But on some level—” another sigh “—it still kills me that I couldn’t figure out how to fix things.”

      Yeah. He knew how that went, didn’t he? Knew, too, the folly of that particular mind-set, thinking if one person wants things to work badly enough, it can happen. “And sometimes, the only way to fix something is to walk away.”

      Silence shuddered between them for several beats before, on a long breath, she sagged back into the couch. “Yeah. I know.” Her eyes lowered to the dog’s ginormous head, still on her lap. “Except the divorce didn’t end the...problems.”

      “The drinking, you mean?”

      “That, and the emotional outbursts. If anything,