The Marine's Embrace

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)

COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#u5e8ac59a-3da4-5166-82e9-7ab0ed1bc905)

HER PILLOW SMELLED of him.

Caught in that wonderful, hazy time between asleep and fully awake, Fay Lindemuth sighed and pressed her face against the soft fabric. Inhaled the familiar, tantalizing scent of her husband’s aftershave. Hugging it close, she wanted nothing more than to hold this perfect moment in her memory forever. To draw it out, make it last as long as possible.

But these perfect moments didn’t last. Not for her.

So she had to make the most of it. Happiness, so long sought and even longer fought for, suffused her. She used to dream of having Shane back in her life. They were soul mates, destined to be together, bound by the vows they’d made to each other and the two sons they’d created.

For the past three years, circumstances and their own choices had kept them apart. But never for long. He always came back to her.

He always left her again.

And in those times, when the heartbreak and loneliness threatened to overwhelm her, she turned to her dreams for comfort, to feel close to Shane. It was the only time she was free of pain.

Oh, she was careful. She didn’t nap during the day, didn’t sleep in until noon or go to bed before 10:00 p.m.—no matter how badly she wanted to. She refused to let the promise of oblivion lure her into backsliding. Into forgetting the progress she’d made.

She was better. Everyone said so.

Maybe, one day, she’d believe it herself.

And this was a step in the right direction. A step closer toward being whole once again. She had Shane back. Everything was how it used to be. How it was meant to be.

Smiling, she reached for her husband...

Only to encounter emptiness.

Her eyes flew open, her fingers curling into the cool sheet as panic reared its ugly head. Whispered to her that he was gone. That she was alone. That she’d always be alone.

Lies, she assured herself, but her fingers went numb with cold, her chest ached. She had her two precious boys and her parents. She had Neil, her older brother. She had Maddie, who, besides being Fay’s best friend, was also Neil’s girlfriend and the mother of his fourteen-year-old daughter, Breanne. And she had Shane. For good this time.

He’d promised.

Sitting up, she pulled the sheet over her bare breasts. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but once they did, she noticed movement by the dresser. Was that a rustling sound?

Someone was in the room with her.

Shane hadn’t left her.

Leaning across the bed, she reached for the lamp, the ring she wore on a delicate chain around her neck sliding out from under the loosened sheet. She stopped. The rustling could have been the wind blowing through the trees. The movement a shift of shadows.

After all, she did have a bad habit of letting her imagination get the best of her. Of believing only what she wanted, no matter how solid the proof against her fantasies were.

Face your fears.

That’s the advice Dr. Porter always gave during their weekly sessions. The psychiatrist loved spouting platitudes about how Fay was capable of controlling her emotions. Of handling any situation. Strong enough to get through disappointment or heartache. Strong enough to survive.

Which was laughable, but it made him—and her family—feel better, so she went along.

Pretend to be strong and eventually you’ll be strong. Act as if—as if you’re confident. Clever. In control. Brave.

Act as if, she repeated silently to herself, her fingers tightening on the lamp’s switch. Act as if...act as if...

She turned the light on and sagged against the headboard.

Shane was still here.

Thank you, God.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, and she smiled, but he turned back to finish tugging on his jeans.

Her smile fading, she told herself not to read into things. He’d never been big on mornings, had always preferred keeping to himself for the first few hours of the day. Plus, she probably looked awful, the eye shadow and mascara she’d carefully applied last night streaked and smudged, her hair a tangled mess.

Shane liked pretty things. Had always hated when she didn’t do her hair or makeup. Said he preferred her all sparkly and shiny.

Act as if...act as if...

She wiped her fingers under her eyes, noted the eyeliner and mascara on her fingertips, before smoothing the sheet and tucking it under her arms. She allowed herself a moment to just take in the sight of her husband. He was so handsome, tall with a lean, wiry build.

And he was all hers.

“Good morning,” she whispered, conscious of their sons sleeping in the room next door. She didn’t want to wake them this early.

She wanted a few more minutes alone with her husband. So they could talk. Make plans. Starting with their living arrangements. Since she was manager of Bradford House, the bed-and-breakfast Neil owned, she and the boys were able to live in the third-floor apartment rent free, but she doubted Shane would want to stay here permanently.

Doubted Neil would let him.

They just had a few things to work out. Then they’d wake the boys together, tell them the good news—that they were going to be a family again.

It would be perfect. Just like she’d always dreamed.

Shane sat on the bed next to her, and she leaned forward, reached for him, but he bent over and put on one of his work boots.

Fay frowned. That wasn’t right. He was supposed to pull her into his arms. Kiss her. Tell her how much he loved her. Reassure her he was finally coming home for good.

“Are you...are you leaving?” she asked.

He yanked on the second boot, his head down as he tied the laces. “Yeah.”

“Did I do something wrong?” She hated how thin and reedy her voice sounded. How pathetic.

Hated how small and stupid she felt for saying anything at all. For worrying.