the lobby? On the other hand, we have this.â She untied her robe and held it open. âA fetching wife in a fetching new, ruby red silkâextremely silk-like anywayânightgown. The French would call it a negligé. â
His back to her, he stood at the closet, attaching his slacks to a clothes hanger.
âAlec!â
He glanced over his shoulder. âFetching.â
âI thought so, too. Okay, Alexander,â she teased, âwhat gives here? Normally you would not have let me read this late. Normally you would be kissing me by now. Passionately , I might add.â
He slowly shut the closet door and rested his forehead against it.
Struck with the realization that nothing about his actions was normal, she swallowed her bantering tone. âWhatâs wrong?â
He blew out a loud breath and turned, leaning against the door, holding out an arm. âCome here, fetching wife of mine.â She stepped into his embrace, and he buried his face in her hair. âIâm sorry. I donât know how to tell you.â
And then she knew. âItâs Kevin.â
He straightened, placed his hands around her face, and whispered, âHeâs leaving Val.â
The world stood still for just a heartbeat, and then it spun again, but Anne knew it was off-kilter, knew that from this moment on it would always be so.
âNo!â she wailed. âNo! They saidââ
Alec pressed her head against his chest. âOh, Annie. Iâm sorry. Shh.â
âThey canât!â She pushed herself from him, crossed the small room, and sank onto the turned-down bed.
âSweetheart, itâs not as if itâs a surprise.â
âTheyâre seeing a counselor!â Suddenly chilled to the bone, she wrapped the robe tightly around her.
âThe counselor agreed that a trial separation couldââ
âHow can a Christian counselor tell them to separate ?â Her voice rose, and the tears started flowing. â Theyâre Christians! This isnât supposed to happen!â
âAnnie.â He sat beside her, enfolding her in his arms again. âYou know it happens to Christians.â
âDoes Val know?â
âYes.â
The sobs erupted. âThen why didnât she tell me? I should be with her. Why now? Why this weekend? Weâre in Chicago! On a church council retreatââ
âShh.â He stroked her hair. âKevin said they⦠They had a discussion late last night. It was their first calm one. And they reached this decision. Heâsâ¦â
She felt Alecâs intake of breath.
âHeâs moving out on Sunday. Val didnât want to ruin your weekend. Instead,â his tone grew sarcastic, âshe let me do it.â
âAlec, thatâs not fair.â
He sighed and tightened his arms around her. âNo, itâs not fair. I donât know what to do with this gut-wrenching emotion. And I hated passing it on to you.â
They held each other, absorbing the pain they felt for their friends. Friends who, like them, were 30-something and had three children. Who, like them, lived in Valley Oaks, attended Community Church, car pooled, and volunteered whenever necessary for anything related to the elementary, middle, and high schools. Three kids, three schools.
Finally, Anne whispered, âI canât imagine their hurt. What can they be doing right this very minute? They donât have anyone to hug them.â She burst into fresh sobs, envisioning Val and Kevin hugging opposite sides of a king-sized bed.
Alec tightened his hold around her until her tears slowed.
She fumbled with a tissue from the robe pocket. âWhat else did he say? How is she?â
âWell, apparently sheâs all for this. You know Val. Sheâs strong, stronger in her faith than he is. Sheâll get through it.â
âI thought they were making progress.â
âKevin says no way.