White Picket Fences

The house he and Dawn had owned in Phoenix was spacious, full of windows. Sammie and Bear had had a huge backyard filled with luscious grass and their own doggie door to let themselves in and out. Dawn had insisted on that for the summer months, when it was too hot to leave them outside all day while they were both at work. She’d sure loved the dogs.

Maybe they should’ve had children. She’d said she wasn’t ready. And Lord knew Zack had his plate full, as well, working in one of the largest veterinary clinics in the city. But maybe if she’d had children at home…

Zack shook his head again, then took another swig of beer.

And he remembered…

“ZACK, WE NEED TO TALK.”

He came more fully into the bedroom, watching as Dawn zipped up the back of her chic navy-blue dress. He thought of offering to help, but knew that if he did, neither one of them would get to work on time.

“What’s up?” he asked her. She’d been out late the night before, another dinner meeting. Dawn was an advertising executive and often worked late in the evenings.

“I just need to talk to you about something.”

“Can it wait until tonight?” he asked, leaning against the doorjamb even though he really needed to leave if he was going to make his eight-o’clock appointment to spay Mrs. Andrews’s new beagle. But he was enjoying the view, watching as Dawn put on her earrings, clasped her watch around her wrist. Applied lip liner and then lipstick. She was one of the most feminine women he’d ever met, and after living almost thirty years with his own large athletic body, he was fascinated by the contrast between the two of them.

He’d had lovers before Dawn, feminine women who complemented his masculinity, but none of them had captivated him as much as she had.

He tried to meet her eyes in the mirror over her dresser, but she was obviously preoccupied.

She turned to face him and Zack straightened as she finally met his eyes. “No, it can’t wait,” she said. Her tone was serious. “I promised myself I’d do this now, and if I don’t, I’m not sure when I will.”

This didn’t sound like a dinner engagement she’d forgotten to mention. Something was wrong. His muscles tensed as he waited.

He’d never known Dawn to have problems talking to him before.

“I want a divorce.”

He fell back a step as the words hit him, but they didn’t really register.

“What?”

“I want a divorce. I’m going to file today.”

“What?” Same word, a little louder. Still no comprehension.

“I know this is hard, coming out of the blue, but you have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about it, and now that I know for sure, I just have to do it and get it done.” She was talking so fast he could hardly keep up with her.

Mrs. Andrews’s beagle was going to have another day, another chance.

Zack took a deep breath. “What’s wrong?” he asked. If only he could get to the root of this problem he hadn’t even known he had. He was sure they could fix it, whatever it was. He and Dawn were great together. Their relationship worked smoothly, and they solved problems by consensus. They compromised easily, hardly ever disagreeing.

They were a good pair. A team.

Just look at the beautiful house they owned and ran together. Their well-organized lives. The dogs they both adored.

Her eyes lifted, met his again. He glimpsed the pain in them, the regret, and started to feel sick.

“I can change.” He said the first thing that came to mind, idiotic though it was. Not that he wasn’t willing to do whatever he could to save his marriage, but he had no idea what was even bothering her.

Maybe she hated Phoenix, wanted to move. Maybe she’d had a job offer somewhere far away—like Massachusetts. He’d hate to give up his practice, his patients, but he would. He’d hate the cold weather, too. The snow. But he’d adjust.

She’d do the same for him if the situation were reversed.

They were a team. Comfortable. Part of the same whole.

“It’s not you, Zack,” she said, her voice breaking as she turned away, fumbled with the diamond tennis bracelet he’d bought her for their fifth anniversary.

“What is it?” he asked again, standing upright, his muscular frame leaving barely any space in the doorway. He had some crazy notion of blocking her escape should she try to leave before she came to her senses, before he helped her work this out. But he knew that if she pushed past him, he’d let her go.

He had to. They were equals. A team.

His pager went off. Zack ignored it. His staff would be worried; he never missed an appointment. But for once, they’d have to wait. They’d understand.

Dawn stopped fiddling with her jewelry and Zack approached her slowly, taking her slim shoulders in his hands. “Talk to me, honey,” he said. “I know we haven’t spent much time together in the past year or two…” Make that five or six. “We’ve both been so busy getting established, but we’re there now. We can finally afford to slow down a little bit, take those trips we always talked about.”

She shook her head, cutting him off. When Zack looked up, he saw tears in her eyes.

“There’s someone else,” she whispered.

Jerking his hands away from her, he backed up a step. “You’ve slept with another man?”

The thought had never even occurred to him. She was his wife.

“No.” She shook her head.

Thank God.

“Where would I ever find a man better-looking than you?” she asked, giving him an intimate little smile through her tears.

“Indeed,” he agreed, because she seemed to expect it. He’d certainly never had troubles attracting women—the best-looking women. But he wasn’t foolish enough to think that looks were all that mattered in a relationship. Far from it.

“I knew this was going to be hard,” she whispered, still standing there by her dresser, watching him. “But I had no idea it was going to be this hard.”

“Dawn, for God’s sake, tell me what’s wrong.” He couldn’t ever remember being so tense. Wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand there calmly discussing things that made no sense.

“I’m in love with someone else.”

But she’d just told him there was no one else. He was the best-looking man she’d ever seen.

“Who?”

She turned away, and something inside Zack cracked wide open.

“Barbara Sharp.”

He frowned, his head spinning. He had to be missing large parts of this conversation.