Page 58 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

Adam had to be the center of attention. He’d rarely accompanied me to the foundation’s employee functions because they were about me, not him. I’d begged him to attend three Christmas parties, and after listening to him yawn through each, I’d just gone solo from then on out.

His family’s money meant we were always running in the elite circles. My parents weren’t hurting for money, but we’d never been rich. I hadn’t ever wanted to make Adam feel ashamed of me, so I’d acted as perfectly as possible. I’d gone so far as to take private etiquette lessons before our wedding.

Adam never criticized me or put me down. He was supportive of my job and loved my family. But I never fit into our lifestyle. His lifestyle. Most nights, I went to bed with knots in my stomach. I’d chalked up my constant stress to a demanding job, but that had simply been an excuse.

I’d been exhausted, trying so hard to make everything perfect. And somewhere along the way, Adam and I had fallen apart.

From the moment we’d traded I dos, I’d labeled us as Happily Married. Then I’d used that label as an excuse to put on blinders and ignore the things really happening between us. I’d disregarded the changes shaking our foundation. Our young love hadn’t been strong enough to last, not without work—work neither of us had cared to do.

“What if I came out in two weeks?” he asked. “We’ve got a break in the play schedule. I could visit for a couple of days.”

“Adam, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because it won’t accomplish anything. I’m sorry you don’t feel like you’ve gotten closure. I really am. But this is closed. And I think it would be best if you stopped calling me for a while.”

“Piper, you can’t mean that.”

“I do,” I said gently. “I’m sorry, but I do.”

“We belong together. We lost our way, but it’s always been you.”

My heart ached with the pain in his voice. When was this going to get easier? He’d said the same thing all during our divorce. Every meeting with every lawyer, he’d always pull me aside to tell me he loved me.

I may have fallen out of love with Adam, but I still had love for him. Our lives were just no longer paired together. Our paths were no longer entwined.

“No, we don’t belong together. We grew apart, Adam. Please find a way to accept our divorce. Please. I wish you all the best, but this is good-bye.”

“Pip—”

“Good-bye.” I pulled the phone away from my ear even though his protests were still coming through. Then I ended the call.

That was harsher than I’d hoped it would be, but that phone call was long overdue.

I’d asked for a divorce. I’d seen it through despite Adam’s protests. I’d changed my last name back to Campbell and moved to the opposite side of the country.

If Adam wasn’t able to recognize that as the end of our marriage, this phone call tonight should make it unmistakably clear.

Tonight, I’d handled Adam.

This weekend, I’d make peace with Kaine.

This would be my home for years to come, and I refused to have my sanctuary ruined because of a short-lived affair.

Now I just had to find an olive branch.

As I walked through the living room toward the dining area, an idea popped into my mind. Maybe he’d be willing to build me a dining room table.

Hiring Kaine might bridge the awkwardness. His furniture was a safe zone for conversation. My renovation was one too. Combining the two together could be the first step in a new relationship with my neighbor.

A platonic one.

It was Memorial Day weekend, and though I doubted Kaine had any big plans on a Friday night, I didn’t want to go over so close to dark. I didn’t trust my body around his in the twilight hours. One brush of his muscular chest against mine, one nudge from his bulky arms, and we’d find ourselves in bed.

Tomorrow, I’d put an end to the hiatus. From here on out, my interactions with Kaine would be limited to daylight hours.

I continued my inspection of the house, walking down the long hallway that led from the front door, past the kitchen and to my master bathroom. None of the work had started in there yet, but I still wanted to check, just in case the crew had done a little something extra.