The Best Bride (16 page)

She made her way over the stacks of supplies and tools. She could hear a file rubbing against wood.

“You ready to take a break?” she called. “Or should I come back later?”

“I can take a break.”

“Good.” She entered the bathroom. Molding for the ceiling lay stacked in the center. Travis had told her he planned to do the master bed and bath in a Victorian style.
He'd even ordered a claw-footed bathtub. Several cabinets stood around the outside of the room. Pipes stuck out from the wall.

Travis sat in the middle of the floor, an open cabinet in front of him. He looked up as she entered. Something flickered in his eyes. Not passion, not even interest. It was almost a fleeting hint of sadness, followed by a healthy dose of mistrust. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He blinked and the expression was gone, replaced by one she couldn't read.

Her stomach tightened as worry made her gnaw on her lower lip. She handed him a mug of coffee. He took it and nodded his thanks, then sipped the steaming liquid. Silence stretched between them. She didn't know what to say. Apparently he didn't, either, because the room stayed quiet.

She walked over to the rolls of wallpaper and studied the rose-and-ivory pattern. She could feel Travis's gaze on her back. What had she done?

“You didn't have to stay home tonight to keep me company,” she said at last, still staring at the wallpaper.

“I've been neglecting the house.” He picked up his file and went to work on the cabinet.

She wanted to believe that was all it was, but she couldn't. The knot in her belly was too big to be ignored.

“Then tell me what's wrong. Are you angry with me?”

The file clinked when he dropped it to the floor. She heard him stand up and move close to her. She drew in a deep breath and turned around.

He'd set his coffee on the cabinet and stood with his arms folded over his chest. Worn black jeans hugged his strong thighs. His flannel shirt, rolled up to the elbows, had seen better days. The faded, soft fabric clung to him, highlighting his strength. When she gathered enough courage,
she raised her head to look at his face. Dark eyes revealed nothing, nor did the straight set of his mouth.

“I didn't deliberately look through your mail,” he said.

The knot in her stomach tightened. When he and Mandy had come back with her mail, she'd had a moment's unease. What if Travis had noticed who it was addressed to? But Mandy had proudly told her that she'd carried it all by herself. When Travis hadn't said anything, Elizabeth had assumed he hadn't looked.

“Mandy kept it on her lap. When it fell off, I picked it up. It's all addressed to Elizabeth Proctor. There's a postcard from your parents, Elizabeth. Your own parents use Sam's last name. Why did you lie?”

She expected the shame. When the hot emotion flooded her, she had to fight to keep from ducking her head. She could feel the blush creeping up her cheeks. Even in the soft light of the bathroom he would be able to see her embarrassment. But she hadn't expected to feel such sadness and regret. Travis had believed her. Despite the evidence against her, despite his questions, he'd trusted her to be who she said she was. He hadn't pressed to know her secrets. He'd been there for her, a good friend, and now that was gone.

“I'm sorry,” she said slowly, gripping her mug tightly. “I didn't want anyone to know. I couldn't tell you because I knew what you would think.”

“What's the problem?” he asked. His eyebrows drew together. He unfolded his arms and held out his hands, palms up. “It's no big deal. People get divorced all the time. Hell, I'm divorced. Why would you think anyone would care?”

“It's not that simple.”

“What's not that simple? Did he beat you? Was he into
men instead of women? Dammit, Elizabeth, tell me the truth.”

She'd always known it would come to this. She should have known the secret would get out. What would Travis think of her when he knew? Would he despise her? Call her a fool? She shook her head. He couldn't say anything worse than what she'd already told herself.

“None of those things,” she said at last. “Sam Proctor was already married when I met him. I didn't know, and he didn't tell me. Sam was a bigamist.”

I
f the situation hadn't been so sad and serious, Elizabeth might have laughed. Travis couldn't have looked more shocked if she'd stripped off all her clothes and started dancing around naked. The giggle in the back of her throat cracked and threatened to become a sob. She covered her mouth with her hand and turned away.

“You're the second wife?” he asked.

“Y-yes.” She cleared her throat. It didn't help. Her legs started to tremble. She clutched at a stack of boxes of tiles, but the support wasn't enough. Shame, bitter regret, pain and confusion flooded her. She didn't want to lose Travis. Not yet. She needed him to be her friend. Now everything was lost.

She stopped trying to hold on and sank to her knees. The floor was cold through her jeans, but she didn't care. She clutched her arms to her chest and fought to stay coherent.

“I didn't know,” she said, not turning around to face
him. She didn't want to see the disgust in his eyes. “I swear I didn't know. I should have, of course. I was stupid. Young, naive. It was my fault for not questioning more. But I was barely out of my teens. Things like that didn't happen to girls from like me.” She spoke quickly, as if by telling the tale fast he would be more likely to believe her.

“I met Sam at a lecture, at college. My parents had wanted me to stay home and go to a local junior college, but I wanted to get away. They seemed so old and out of touch with everything. I was working and going to school part-time. There was this lecture. I saw his picture. He was blond and good-looking. When he spoke, it was wonderful. The lecture was on staying motivated to achieve goals. He was very big on staying motivated.” She paused to catch her breath.

“You don't have to tell me this,” Travis said quietly. He was still behind her. She didn't dare turn around; she couldn't. Maybe if she explained it all correctly, he would understand. Maybe he would know that she'd tried, really tried. She hadn't meant to make such a big mistake.

“I sat in the back because I was shy.” She sniffed. “Silly. I didn't have the courage to ask my questions in front of the group. There were probably two hundred people in the room. But afterward I went up to talk to him. There was a crowd, mostly women. They were older and well dressed. I was just a kid. When he spoke to me, I was enchanted. He looked at me as if I were something special. Something different. That meant a lot. When he asked me to go for coffee…well, I couldn't refuse.”

“Elizabeth, don't.”

“I have to. I have to make you understand.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don't.” She looked up at him. Shock still flared in his dark eyes. He sat on the edge of the cabinet
staring down at her. His arms were folded over his chest. His body language told her he'd pulled back. The teasing man who opened his home to her was gone, replaced by a judging stranger.

“I was a late bloomer. I didn't know how to dress or act around kids my age. My parents didn't help. The clothes they bought me were inappropriate for school. Too dressed-up and conservative. I'd never had a boyfriend. Sam was ten years older than me, but very hip and sophisticated. I was overwhelmed.” She looked up at him and forced herself to smile. It felt a little shaky. “You know how that is, Travis. You've knocked your share of women off their feet.”

“One or two,” he admitted. “But I'm not judging you.”

“Yes, you are. Of course you are. Do you think I don't judge myself? I made it so easy for him.” She closed her eyes remembering how eager she'd been for his kisses, his touch. She'd never been with a man before. Sam was tender, teaching her the ways between a man and a woman. She'd fallen in love in a matter of days.

“He lived in Seattle but commuted to L.A. on business a lot. I even visited him there, once, at his apartment.” She opened her eyes and stared at her clenched fists. She tried to relax her fingers, but she couldn't. She was holding on to all of herself to keep from breaking down. It was overwhelming, knowing what Travis thought, what other people would think. Knowing she'd been irresponsible and foolish and gullible. Feeling horribly alone. There was no one to turn to.

“I know now that apartment must have belonged to a friend. He was already married. He has two children with his real wife. A boy and a girl. When I got pregnant, I just assumed we'd be married. He'd never said anything about a wife. I never thought to ask. He said of course we would.
He loved playing the odds. It was all a game to him. His dual life was exactly the kind of challenge he thrived on. I should have known.”

“Elizabeth, I don't know what to say.”

“I don't blame you. I didn't know what to say, either. I lived with that man for six and a half years.” She laughed, then stopped before the laugh turned into a sob. “I found out when the police knocked on my door in the middle of the night. They arrested him, right there in my living room. You know the funny part?”

He didn't answer.

“I was going to leave him and get a divorce. The marriage—the whatever we had together—had been in trouble for a while. It didn't work with his separations. Of course his already being married would have put a strain on things, too, if I'd known.”

“Elizabeth—”

“No, I know what you're thinking. Any kind of moron could have figured it out. My God, in six years there should have been hundreds of clues. There were. I know there were.” She couldn't look at him anymore. She stared at the loose tiles in front of her. One was plain cream with tiny flecks of rose. The other was the same cream background with rose-colored flowers in each of the corners. The bathroom was going to be beautiful when he was done. She wondered if he would let her come and look at it then, or if he wouldn't ever want to speak to her again. She couldn't blame him. Her friends had stared at her with disgust. Most had stopped calling. The ones who had continued to speak to her had made her feel worse. She hated their pity.

“I should have known. There I stood on my wedding day, so happy. I knew I would be the best bride, the best wife, the best mother. It was all a joke.”

The colors on the tiles blurred. She heard a movement behind her. Travis crouched next to her and grabbed her shoulders. “Dammit, stop beating yourself up.”

She stared at him, at his wavering image and only then did she realize she was crying. She raised one hand to her cheek. It was wet with tears.

“I told you,” she whispered, her voice low and husky. “I warned you I wasn't who or what you thought.”

“Give me a break,” he said impatiently. “You made a mistake. So what? People make mistakes all the time.”

“Not like this.”

“Hey, this isn't half as terrible as some of things I've been imagining.”

“You don't mean that.”

“Elizabeth, you aren't the bad guy. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Except be stupid.”

He smiled slightly. “That's not against the law.”

She pulled free of his grip. “You haven't thought this through, Travis. It's not just about being stupid. I was never married. Every document I have is a lie. I won't even bother with the details of what the IRS had to say about this. We had joint property together. It's still not all straightened out. And my daughter—” Her voice started to shake. “My daughter doesn't have a father anymore. I wasn't married when she was born. Even her birth certificate is a lie. I love her more than anything, yet I might have destroyed her life. I only wanted the best for her and look what happened.”

“I'm sorry.”

He reached for her, but she pulled back. She leaned against the pile of tiles. “Do you know what it's like having the police show up at your door at four in the morning? Do you know what my neighbors thought or said the next
day? Sam was gone about two weeks every month. I used to wonder why he didn't want to buy a house. Now I know it's because his other life would show up on the credit report. He didn't want me to go back to work, but thank God I did. When this all hit, I walked away with my daughter, my personal savings account and only what I'd paid for. I left behind everything else. I wanted to start over.” The tears began to flow again. She felt her voice getting thick, but she couldn't stop. She had to explain it all. “I didn't know. I swear I didn't know.”

“Hush.” He reached for her and this time she didn't have the strength to resist him. After months of carrying around her guilty secret she felt cleansed, having spoken the truth at last. She knew that Travis would never be able to understand what she'd been through or look at her without feeling disgusted, but right now she couldn't deal with that.

He drew her into his embrace. He was warm and comforting, all the things her life lacked.

“Don't touch me,” she said, willing herself to fight, but not able to find the strength. “I'm incompetent. I ruined my life and Mandy's, and—”

“Never,” he whispered. He rested her head on his shoulder and stroked her back. “Never.”

“It's true. I am. I'm—”

He silenced her with his kiss. His firm lips brushed against hers, his mustache tickled her skin. He tasted salty; then she realized it was her own tears. She clung to him, to his strength, letting herself believe that this was real. Even for just a second, it was enough. His powerful body acted as a shield from the horrors of her past. In his arms, she could forget her part in the debacle that had been her life. She could ignore how it had affected Mandy, and caused them both to be cut off from friends and family.
Even her parents didn't know the truth. She couldn't face telling them.