Page 67 of Landing Love

“The honest truth, I swear on my mother’s grave, is that Bill did nothing wrong. I was with him the whole night. There was a girl I liked, and she had a friend. The friend got a little too drunk and passed out. Bill and I helped her get home safe, and then Bill went back to his hotel alone. Nothing happened between them except some polite conversation. She must have gotten lipstick on him when she was passed out.”

She let out a long, slow breath, wishing talking to Ernie made her feel better than it did.

“Ann, you should know something. Bill talks a lot of nonsense, but he’s a really good guy. I recently ran into a couple of the women he dated before you, and they complained about how dull, boring, and respectful he was when he accompanied them home. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, but it’s true. I just wish I’d believed him sooner when he said he turned over a new leaf.”

His story matched Bill’s. Was it enough? Did it make her feel any better? Yes, she decided. It did, at least a little bit. It wasn’t proof that nothing happened, but she’d never get that. She would have to accept what Ernie said and hope for the best. The only other choice was suspicion, and she couldn’t see how it would benefit her to hang onto it. Nonetheless, her heart hung onto a last shred of doubt, determined to defend itself from obliteration if she was wrong.

“Thank you, Ernie. I appreciate it. I know Bill does too. I’ll let you go.”

As soon as she hung up, Bill asked, “Now do you believe me?”

“I’ll never know for certain, but I want to believe you. I’ll try to give you the benefit of the doubt.” It was the most she could offer.

“For God’s sake, what did he say?” He reached for her shoulders and forced her to meet his agonized gaze.

“He confirmed what you said about the lipstick and even told me that he talked to women you used to date. According to him, you turned over a new leaf even before you met me.” She wanted to believe it. Truly, she did.

“But you still have doubts?”

She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t keep looking at him, or her heart was going to break right in half. So she turned her gaze downward.

He gripped her shoulders harder. “Please, Ann, I can’t live like this. There must be something I can do to make you believe me.”

Oh, her poor husband. “I don’t want to suspect you. I promise I am letting go, to the extent I can. You scared me badly. I forgive you for whatever happened that night, but I can’t force the doubt away completely. Only time will erase it.”

She could see it was torturing him to be even the slightest bit out of her good graces. He was always so eager to please, this husband of hers. He looked so sick and miserable. It broke her heart.

“I care for you, Bill, and I’m trying not to hold this against you. But trust will take time to rebuild. You shouldn’t worry about it now, though. You’re too sick.”

“Ann, as long as I draw breath, I will worry over you, though the way this cold is making me feel, that might not be very long.”

She froze. Every muscle in her body tensed. “Don’t joke about that. Don’t you dare.” The mere thought of losing Bill sent her into a tailspin of panic. She didn’t have it in her to go through that again.

“I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate.”

“It’s all right. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

She put some soup on the stove to heat and took the moment with her back turned to compose herself. Unable to stop herself from wondering “what if,” she lost herself for a moment in horrible imagination—Bill gone, herself alone again, Junior without a father again.

She couldn’t lose Bill. It was unthinkable. They’d only just married. This was a bad cold and nothing more. He would get through it.

“Ann, I’m not going to leave you. We’re going to live a long and happy life together.”

She turned back to him and pasted on a smile. “Of course we will.”

“Ann,” he said in a warning voice.

“It’s forgotten. Everything is forgotten. In fact, let’s start over again right now, shall we? Let’s erase the last few days and try again.”

Bill exhaled slowly. “Thank you for making me soup. Did you know chicken soup was invented by the Greeks?”

“What? How do you even know that?”

“Or maybe it was the Sumerians, and they didn’t bother to write down the recipe in cuneiform. But the ancient Greeks definitely put chickens in a pot and boiled them with vegetables to make soup.”

He looked so adorable with his lopsided grin that she wanted to climb on top of him and kiss him silly. If only he wasn’t deathly ill. No, she shouldn’t even think the word death. Ill. He was ill.

“I will file that away in my useless knowledge bank,” she said with a smile.