He was the perfect solution for Pam.He offered her his name, his home, and his affection, and asked little in return but that she be there for him on weekends.In some respects he was the father figure she had missed, and if it struck her as strange that a husband should be that, she reasoned that she could have done a whole lot worse.Brendan McGrath was a good man.
That was, perhaps, why the enormity of her mistake hit her so hard.Well before the honeymoon was over, she felt it the first time Brendan made gentle, almost shy love to her, when Cutter’s face was the one in her mind.He hadn’t loved her enough to marry her, but now he was farther from reach than ever, and it was her own fault.She’d been rash.In her rush to defy John, she hadn’t thought throughher actions.She could blame John, but only to a point.She should have had more sense, more compassion.
Cutter would be furious—more out of pride than anything else, she was sure, and that hurt.Whatever love he still felt for her was sure to be dashed.That hurt.But she hurt, too, when she thought of Brendan.He was an innocent pawn in a game whose rules he barely knew.She had used him, and in that sense she wasn’t much better than John.
That thought and others kept her soft-spoken and submissive during the seven days that she and Brendan stayed on Key West.There were times when she was calm and content, times when she despaired, times when she actually started to tremble at the thought of what she had done.By the time they returned home, though, her own pride had kicked into play.She knew that she’d done Brendan a grave injustice.She knew that she would either wallow in guilt or rise to the occasion.She chose to do the latter.Regardless of how badly she missed Cutter, she vowed to make Brendan happy.
Chapter 24
“So congratulations are in order, huh?”Hillary asked.
Cutter bobbled the phone on his shoulder, steadied it, pressed two fingers to his eyes.“Yeah.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Tell me what you heard.”
“Playing coy?”
“Just tired.”
“Ahhh.You had a rough night.”
He glanced around the apartment.It was a mess, just as it had been for the past two months.Rough night?“You could say that.”Every damn night had been rough since he’d learned of Pam’s marriage.He hadn’t slept well, hadn’t eaten well, hadn’t been able to concentrate on how badly he’d botched things.
“What I heard,” Hillary began, “was that you’ve beentapped to be the rugged, denim-clad hero in a long-range ad campaign sponsored by the diamond industry.True?”
“Dramatically phrased, but close enough.”
“I’m a writer.If I can’t phrase things dramatically, what can I do?So tell me about it.Did you have a falling-out with Jondier?”
“No.But my contract is expiring, and I want a change.”
“You’ll have that.Fancy pants to denim.What about the work?Will it be any less grueling?”
“Yeah.Fewer days.More money.”
“Not bad.”She paused.“So why don’t you sound thrilled?”
He dragged his fingers down his face and dropped his hand to his lap.“I’m just tired.”
“And missing her.”
He felt a sharp pain.After a time, he said, “Yeah.”
“Oh, Cutter.”
He squeezed his eyes shut.“Have you talked with her?”he asked.
“Last week.She sounded okay.”
“Just okay?Not ecstatic?Not radiant?Isn’t that what new brides are supposed to be?”
“Come on, Cutter.Don’t be sarcastic.”
“Well, how am I supposed to be?”he barked, and then it all poured out.“She’s the love of my life—I’m supposedly the love of hers—but when I won’t go along with her schemes, she runs off and marries someone else.After fourteenyears.Fourteen years.”
“Cutter, fourteen years ago she was only nine.”