I nod slowly. “I’m sorry. Families are complex. I could talk for hours about my own.”
He guides me down the hall. “I’ll hold you to that, but first let’s give you a quick tour of the place. Everything you see, she decorated. Hazel had a flair for decor. She had many talents, really. Music was her first love, but she adored books, so I thought I might show you this room.”
He opens a door, and we enter a library, the wall-to-wall shelves filled with books, several of the spines encased in leather. There’s even a sliding ladder. In the corner is an oak desk, and a red chaise lounge is off to the side. An overhead chandelier lights the entire room with a glow.
“Wow.” I ease out a first edition of The Catcher in the Rye and lightly stroke the cover before placing it back on the shelf.
“You’re welcome to come to the house whenever you want. Graham and Brody only come during the holidays, but I’d love to have the house full of laughter again on any occasion. He deserves to be happy after everything he’s gone through.” A solemn expression flashes across his countenance. “The truth is, I made mistakes with them. I didn’t handle things well after Hazel. I’m afraid there’s not much to do to fix that. I’m glad he’s found love.”
I shift uncomfortably. Although I appreciate his candor with me, I feel guilty that our marriage isn’t quite what Vale thinks.
He gives me a wan smile. “He needs family, something he refuses from me. I actually never believed he’d find someone after . . .” He clears his throat. “Well, none of that matters. I’m disappointed your brother and sister couldn’t come.”
“We’ll have our own celebration soon. It’s a busy time at the store, and it’s a family business. Maybe we can all get together soon at Graham’s place.”
He gives me a quick look, seeming startled. “I’d love that. I don’t see Graham nearly enough.”
My throat tightens with apprehension. Did I just invite Graham’s estranged father to hang out?
“I don’t want to monopolize you. Let’s find everyone else,” he murmurs as he offers me his arm.
“I need a restroom first.”
He points me down a hallway and up the stairs, and I go that way, grabbing another glass of champagne on the way and taking a deep drink.
From behind a cracked door, low voices reach my ears, and I stop, recognizing Graham’s deep tone.
I peek inside the room, which appears to be some kind of office. What I see makes my breath catch. Graham stands with his back to me, arms crossed and feet planted firmly. In the corner of the room, a woman with beautiful auburn hair and a classical face sits in a chair in front of the fireplace. She stands and moves toward Graham, tilting her face up as if to search his gaze, longing in her expression.
“I thought the world might lose you, that you might die on that football field . . .” A lone tear spills down her face.
“Divina . . .”
“No, don’t tell me to stop,” she says. “Holden’s already having another affair, this time with Pia. Am I just supposed to ignore it? Why can’t I have you?”
“You get nothing if you divorce him, so your idea is for us to have an affair?” His tone sharpens. “I’m not here to be the revenge you get on Holden.”
“It’s not revenge. It’s love. We spent years together, longer than I’ve been married to Holden, and it took you nearly dying for me to realize what a mistake I made. I want you back.”
So this is Divina, the reason Graham has his heart locked away.
There’s silence from the room as I stand with my heart hammering. I touch my chest, checking to make sure the fast beats are normal.
“Remember the night you proposed in Paris?” Divina says. “You promised to love me forever. You held me in your arms and swore. Just say the word, just tell me you still care, and I’ll do anything.” Another tear slips down her face, and Graham hands her a tissue from a box on the desk.
“I’m married,” Graham says tonelessly as she moves closer to him and presses her body against his, her eyes searching his face. She runs her fingers through his hair, a gesture intimate and familiar to her.
“Which can be fixed, G,” she begs. “Get an annulment. Be with me. We can go to Paris again.”
Why isn’t he moving away from her?
He bends his head toward hers—
I yank myself away so I can’t see them kissing.
Should I really expect fidelity when we aren’t even real?