Chapter 5
Today was the day.
Diane Fisher smoothed a damp palm down her Veronica Beard straight-leg denims. Tugged at the hem of her Loro Piana cashmere sweater. Mashed her lips together as she began to pace in her Ferragamo ballet flats.
Oh yes, she was well aware of the designer label in every item of high-end clothing Martin insisted she wear.
And when she dropped her bombshell, he would surely remind her that he’d provided her with the best of everything during the twenty-five years of their marriage.
Yet her brimming closets couldn’t fill the empty place in her heart—and with a milestone birthday in the not-too-distant future, it was time to make the change she’d been dragging her feet on for too long.
The muffled growl of the powerful engine in Martin’s Audi Coupe rumbled through the walls as he zoomed up the long, winding driveway, and her pulse stumbled.
Maybe she should have left a note rather than make her announcement in person and face his ire.
But it was too late to switch plans now.
Besides, resorting to written words was the coward’s way out. If she intended to take charge of her life going forward, she had to learn to stand up to strong people—like her husband. Stop acting like a cowed puppy.
Weaving her fingers into a tight knot, she waited in the center of the living room until Martin parked the car and entered the house from the four-car garage.
When he slammed the door behind him, she winced.
His Saturday morning at the mill must not have gone well.
For a second, her courage faltered . . . but really, would there ever be a good time to confront him?
Not worth debating, since she’d already set everything in motion. It was too late to back out.
Less than a minute later, he appeared in the doorway of the living room, gave her a fast scan, and continued toward the bar. “You getting ready to go somewhere?”
“Yes.”
He circled behind the bar, pulled a Baccarat crystal glass off the shelf, and selected a bottle of bourbon. “A shopping trip to Coos Bay?”
“No.”
After pouring himself a drink, he eyed her. “You aren’t very talkative today.”
Her respiration short-circuited, but she pressed on. “I do have something to say.”
“Can it wait? It was crazy at the mill this morning. The collar on one of the circle blades gave us fits, and that’s bad news for the pending Lawson order.
Aaron and I were able to jury-rig it, but I need to get an equipment rep on the phone.
” He started to walk toward his home office.
“The month-end productivity report for May came in too, so I want to—”
“No. It can’t wait.”
He halted. Swung around. Gave her an annoyed once-over. “What’s with you today? Can’t you see I’m busy?”
Her legs began to shake.
Stay the course, Diane. You can do this.
She clenched her fingers at her sides. “You’re always busy.”
“Which is why you can buy designer clothes, go to spas, travel to Europe, and live in a place like this.” He waved his hand over the living room with its vaulted ceiling, gleaming hardwood floors, abstract paintings, and grand piano on a raised dais in one corner.
The room could be featured in a designer showcase—and was just as soulless.
“There are other things more important.”
Grooves bracketed his mouth. “Are you going to badger me again about my priorities?”
“No.” Her attempts to initiate those conversations had always led to a dead end. “I’m leaving.”
Several seconds ticked by as he regarded her through slitted eyes, only the faint drone of a passing plane traveling to parts unknown breaking the taut silence. “Are you taking a trip?” A thread of caution wove through his question.
“No.” She swallowed. “I’m leaving you, Martin.”
After a moment he took a long swallow of his drink, the sudden tremor in his hand visible even from a distance.
Was that rare crack in the stoic, tough front he presented to the world due to her news or the problems at work?
Impossible to know anymore.
Back in the days when their marriage had been a true partnership, her declaration would have devastated him.
Now, the motions of their marriage had become as rote to him as reviewing his monthly productivity reports. She was just one more obligation to satisfy with a liberal application of money.
Or that’s how it felt, anyway.
Pressure built in her throat, and she gritted her teeth.
No.
She was not going to cry. She’d shed too many tears as it was since the man she’d fallen in love with became obsessed with proving to the world that he was successful at the expense of everything that truly mattered.
Including their marriage and their son.
Martin may have met all their material needs, but the emotional ones had gone untended for far too long.
“Are you saying you want a divorce?” Disbelief raised his pitch a hair.
“Not yet.” She swallowed past the quiver in her voice. “But I need some space.”
“What do you call this?” Again he waved his arm around the room. “Our house is huge. You have gardens, privacy, a swimming pool, a tennis court. There’s plenty of space here.”
“I’m talking about space away from this place to think. To find out who I am besides your wife and Lucas’s mother. To decide what I want my life to look like five years from now.”
His nostrils flared. “In five years, you’re still supposed to be my wife.”
“I don’t feel like a wife even now.”
He shook his head. “This is crazy. Don’t I give you everything you could possibly want?”
“Except yourself.”
He planted a fist on his hip. “So we’re back to that.”
At least he remembered her attempts to broach the subject in the past.
“A marriage requires tenderness and affection and attentiveness from both people, Martin. All that matters to you anymore is the mill and your high-and-mighty image in the community. I know running a company with a long heritage is a serious obligation with significant demands, but it shouldn’t take precedence over the people you’re supposed to love. ”
His lips thinned. “You have no idea about the pressures I’ve had to deal with.”
“I would if you’d told me about them. But you stopped sharing company information long ago. All I know is that the mill has become all-consuming. I don’t understand why you feel you have to prove anything to anyone at this point. Everyone knows you’re successful.”
A muscle ticced in his cheek, and he lifted his glass. Drained it in two long gulps. “I won’t look successful if you leave.”
His main concern about her leaving was how it would affect his standing in Hope Harbor?
Hurt and disappointment welled up in her.
Yet his response was one more validation of her decision to walk away.
“I’m sorry to tarnish your image, Martin.” She crossed to the couch.
“This isn’t about my image.”
“No?” She picked up her purse. Slung it over her shoulder. “Then what is it about?”
“You. Us. Our family.”
“There hasn’t been an us for a long time. Or a family. When did you last talk to Lucas?”
“He doesn’t return my calls or texts.”
“When did you last try to reach out to him?”
His cheeks grew ruddy. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, even though I gave him everything he ever asked for.”
“Except your time.” She locked onto his gaze. “He needed you, Martin. Not the newest smartphone or the latest game console or a sports car for his sixteenth birthday.”
“So you still blame me for the trouble he had in his teens.”
A sudden weariness enveloped her. “Some of the fault was mine too. I should have stepped in instead of letting you run the show. But I’m done following other people’s rules.”
He released a long, slow breath. “You’re actually going to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Where are you going to live? What are you going to do?”
“I’ve arranged to stay in the annex at Anna Williams’s house. And I got a job at the library in Coos Bay. My library science degree is outdated, but I’ve been taking online classes. After I prove myself there, I hope to move up from the clerk position I accepted.”
“You’ve been planning this for a while.” He set his empty glass on the table beside the couch.
“Preparing, anyway.” And trying to find the courage to pull the trigger. “I hope you’ll agree to give me financial support while I figure out next steps, but if not, I’ll file legal separation papers.”
He waved her comment aside. “Your name is on all the bank accounts. You have full access to them.”
“In case you’re worried, I don’t plan to be extravagant.”
“I trust you with our money, Diane.”
“I would rather you trusted me with your heart.”
“If I didn’t trust you with my heart, I wouldn’t have married you.”
“But you stopped sharing what was in your heart long ago. You locked me out. Started calling all the shots. Quit listening. You gave me and Lucas things when we both needed you.” She huffed out a soft, humorless laugh.
“Funny. We’ve talked more about what really matters in the past five minutes than we have in longer than I can remember. ” She pulled out her keys.
“Are you leaving right now?”
“Yes.”
An emotion that looked like panic swept through his eyes. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
“Not today. Or tomorrow.”
“What about down the road?”
“I’m not sure.” Offering any assurances about what the future held would be disingenuous.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know I still love you, right?”
“I’m not sure about that, either.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “May I call you?”
“Not for a while.”
“Does Lucas know about this?”
“He will soon. I have fences to mend with him too. I could have been a better mother.”
“You’ve been a fine mother.”
“If that were true, he wouldn’t have ended up on the other side of the law.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have insisted on more discipline, Martin. I should have objected whenever you took his side after he messed up. Made him take responsibility for his actions. We didn’t do him any favors by letting him get away with bad choices.”
When he didn’t respond, she crossed toward the door.
“I’m not going to beg you to stay.” Martin spoke behind her in the imperious tone that had grown all too familiar over the years.
“I know.” She angled toward him, trying to see past the hard-nosed businessman to the man she’d married a quarter of a century ago.
The square jaw she’d once thought represented strength rather than arrogance hadn’t changed. Neither had the noble nose her mother had deemed too thin.
But the blue eyes that used to soften in warmth when they gazed at her had grown sharp in the fourteen years since he’d taken over the business from his father, and his dark hair had a liberal sprinkling of gray.
Once upon a time, the man she’d married would have begged her to stay.
This man wouldn’t.
Gripping the strap of her purse, she pivoted and continued to the kitchen, through the laundry room, and into the garage where her car waited, packed with her suitcases and a few sentimental items to personalize her new living space.
After she slid behind the wheel, backed out, and guided the car down the long drive rimmed with flowers, she glanced in her rearview mirror.
Was Martin standing in the shadows, watching her leave?
Or had he already moved on to his office to tackle his never-ending inbox?
If she were a betting woman, she’d put her money on the latter.
At the bottom of the drive, she paused to give the multilevel stone and cedar house a sweep.
High on a hilltop, with a panoramic view of the sea over the pristine lawn, it had been the talk of the town when Martin built it.
A showplace, as she’d overheard one local call it not long after it was finished. And it was.
But it had never felt like home, because Martin hadn’t been the same after they moved here.
The scene before her blurred, and she groped in her purse for a tissue. Dabbed at her lashes.
Why the outward trappings of success had become so important to the man she’d married remained a mystery. As far as she was concerned, the modest house they’d occupied closer to town as newlyweds had been more than sufficient.
Somewhere along the way, however, Martin’s priorities had changed . . . for reasons he’d never shared.
And until—or unless—he did, there was no future for them.
Turning away from the house that held too few happy memories, Diane pulled onto the road, pointed her car toward Hope Harbor, and prayed for the courage to stay the course as she stepped into a brave new world.