“I found a letter. Not a love letter,” Tuesday amended quickly. “It was a discussion about this thing they’d had while studying in Central America. It was like, hey I get it, I’d never say anything to her, I know you love her and I hope it works out.”

A sick feeling washed through Kelly on her friend’s behalf.

“I was planning our wedding, getting ready to move away from my hometown to Seattle, where Eric had a job. Boxing stuff up. I confronted him as he walked in the door. He confessed immediately. He begged my forgiveness. He said he loved me and wanted to be with me. He’d chosen me, deliberately, every single day of his life since he returned from that program he’d been in over two years before. I went home, because that’s what you do. Anyway, my mom was awesome. She said love can start a marriage, but a commitment is what kept it together. Did I think Eric would do it again or did I think if I forgave him I could have a really wonderful life with a man who wasn’t perfect but one who loved me? You listen to me, Kelly. Lots of people will say if he or she ever cheated I’d break up with them forever. And maybe you should, given the circumstances. Hell, you did. But it’s how long ago now?”

There was no denying her fear of not only being left behind again, but also of people seeing it from the outside and thinking she was a doormat or stupid. She had left then, not so much because of that one incident, but that one last incident being all she could take, and his reaction only underlined why she left.

“Eight years. I served him with papers eight years ago.”

“You’re a different person now. Maybe he is, too.” Tuesday shrugged. “Maybe not. But you get to think about it if you want to. Screw what anyone else says about it.”

Kelly had come a long way in her life, but she wasn’t quite sure she had that not-caring-about-what-anyone-else-thought part down yet.

“You were glad, then? That you gave him another chance?”

Tuesday nodded. “Yes. I never regretted it.”

It had been a risk for her new friend to expose herself with that story and it had been exactly what Kelly had needed to hear. “Thanks for that. I needed to hear it. Can I say something else? Not about men or marriage.”

Tuesday’s expression turned curious. “Sure.”

“I wasn’t sure what I expected when you said you owned and ran a custom framing shop. But, Tuesday, this is so much more than that. This is a gallery. You should call it that.” Tuesday had art living in her veins, that much was clear. It seemed a crime to call the shop anything but a gallery.

“I guess you weren’t the only one who needed to hear something today. Thank you.”

Kelly hugged her and left a few minutes later with a new piece of jewelry, so very glad she’d stopped by that day.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“TOMORROW NIGHT IS the end-of-the-year festival at the elementary school. Are you ready for that?” Kelly asked Vaughan.

“Okay. Yeah.” He smiled. “Yeah. Like what happens? What do we do?”

“There’ll be a cakewalk and games and stuff to waste money on. Their teachers are there for the dunk tank and the pie-in-the-face stuff.”

“Ah, okay. A carnival, then. We had those in school, too, back in the day. Didn’t you?”

“No. I went to other types of festivals, though. Stuff at the base and then later, as I traveled for work, I did amusement parks and merry-go-rounds and Ferris wheels.”

He stood next to her at the kitchen counter, looking out into the backyard where the girls played. He thought about a night a decade before where they’d taken a ride on the Eye in London.

“Remember London?”

Her laugh told him she did. “Hard to forget. I was hugely pregnant with Maddie. It was the last trip I took until after she was born.”

That night they’d been alone in the carriage and he’d wedged in behind her, his hands on her belly as his daughter kicked and moved.

Their entire future had stretched out that night. He hadn’t been terrified of it yet. Parenthood was still at the easy part when the baby was still inside Mom.

Silence hung between them for several long seconds. Not uncomfortable, but weighty. Important.

She dried her hands, clearing her throat. “Anyway. I bought you a ticket. It comes with a cookie and a juice box. Bring all your one-dollar bills. For all the games, not for your usual reason to carry a lot of small bills.”

She had a smile that made him turn toward her to look better.

He cupped her cheek. “I missed being teased by you.” He kissed her quickly, without thinking, and then remembered they stood in front of the window. Part of him hoped the girls had seen it.

Once he’d broken the kiss, they just looked at one another. Thank God Kelly didn’t freeze up or push him away, but then the oven timer dinged and she went over to turn it off and take dinner out.

“The girls need to come in and wash up,” she said as she turned back to him.

“How’re we doing?” He’d told himself to wait for her to bring it up but he couldn’t resist. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to pressure you but I’d like to be more open about us around the girls. Around everyone. I want to take you on dates. I want to hold your hand when we’re out.” He’d been there three weeks and every moment it got more difficult not to touch her anytime he wanted—which turned out to be often—or kiss her, take her hand, whatever.

She opened her mouth to answer but instead a child came in, interrupting the moment. Instead of stepping in to tell Maddie what to do, Kelly turned and got back to work dealing with the food, leaving it to him.