Page 124 of Bend Toward the Sun
Gia sat in Will’s lap, his cookbook abandoned. When they looked up from their hushed conversation, their expressions fell in synchronized dismay.
Rowan shrugged, splaying empty hands. She seized the inside of her bottom lip in her teeth, unable to speak.
Gia hopped up and drew her into a tight hug. “What happened?”
Rowan silently shook her head.
“Horseshit,” Will barked from the other end of the room. Gia shushed him.
“It’s over. I saw it in his eyes.” Rowan took a quaking breath. “Actually, it’s what Ididn’tsee in his eyes that makes me certain.”
Gia squeezed her arms and studied her face. “No. You’re not done yet. Neither is he.”
A single tear fell, fat and hot. “How can you possibly know?”
Gia and Will shared a look, then she gestured to the foyer. “Because he slammed the door. It shook the whole house.”
Will nodded in confirmation. “He’s mad. You know his temper.” He whistled.
“If he’s that angry, he’s lost control, and that means hefeelssomething,” Gia said. “If he’d closed the door quietly, we’d have a bigger problem.”
Will stood to draw back the edge of the big picture window’s curtain and made a softhuhsound before dropping it back into place to rub his hands together. “This is great. He’s stomping down to the carriage house. Haven’t seen a tantrum like this since he was a kid.”
Rowan’s eyes connected with Gia’s, then Will’s. “Why are you doing this for me?”
Gia didn’t hesitate. “Because we love you.”
“And so does he,” said Will.
IN COLLEGE,TEMPERANCEhad bought Rowan a sweatshirt screenprinted with,ANXIETY IS MY CARDIO. In that moment, as she charged across the darkened lawn to confront Harry, she’d never felt that more acutely. The evening was cool for September, but her pulse sprinted and sweat dampened the hair at her temples.
Anxiety escalated to annoyance as her heart pounded harder. Annoyance then became anger. It fueled her like a steam engine puffing diligently inside her chest. Harry had withdrawn to California, martyring himself in the wake of both of their mistakes. Leaving her to feel like she’d been solely responsible for the collapse of their relationship.
Well, screw that.
Instead of the swaying greeting she usually got from the willow outside the carriage house, its branches were motionless. It was dark inside, and the door remained locked. The back deck was also deserted. She broke off the dried head of a Shastadaisy in one of the neglected planters there and twirled it in her fingers. Where would he have gone?
The pond.
Under a wide-open starry sky, she found Harry on the dock. He sat on the fishing bench at the end of it, illuminated by the milky gray light of the full moon.
“Pool’s closed,” Rowan said.
He sighed when her weight dipped the dock in the water, but he didn’t turn. “Forgot I didn’t have a key to the carriage house.” He sounded sullen.
Abruptly, he stood and tried to get around her. The dock pitched from side to side. They both splayed legs and spread arms to keep from careening into the water.
“No,” Rowan said. The rocking eased. “You’re going to listen to me, or I’m going to haunt you until we both die. And after, too.”
Harry was the embodiment of sullen irritation. He snapped his head back to stare at the moon and locked his hands onto his hips.
“You made it seem like I was the reason we fell apart,” Rowan said. “You were still legally married when we first met, Harry. The tender flirtation, all that sad-eyed charm. This whole thing between us started under false pretenses.”
“We’renotdoing this again—”
“Then you left because I didn’t say the things you wanted to hear.”
After a beat of silence, he made a feral noise in his throat and lurched away from her, back toward the bench. The dock swayed.