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bedroom was the first stop.

They’d had separate rooms for the last three years. It had been Mark’s idea. He said he felt restless and didn’t want to disturb her sleep at night. Since he tended to snore, she wasn’t all that upset, but then the intimacy had left their marriage. Lucy touched the navy-and-gold afghan she’d crocheted for his bed. They were the colors of his favorite team, and she’d even put in a small television so he could watch to his heart’s content without disturbing her. It was odd, the lengths she’d gone to help them live separately. Why then, had the news that he wanted a divorce been so unexpected?

She opened the drawer where his socks were kept, and there, at the back, was a small wooden box with a brass latch. Even though she knew she should respect his privacy, she couldn’t help herself. Lucy opened it.

Inside, she found a collection of medals he’d won as a kid in school—memories of a better time. There was a pocket knife she knew his grandfather had given him and a few matchbook covers from bars where he’d undoubtedly sewn his wild oats while in college. Then came the sheath of letters tied with a shoelace. Without hesitation, the need to delve deeper into his secret life driving her on, she untied the string and the volumes of his unhappiness and eventual love story unfolded in her lap. She read through many of them, even the intimate declarations of love and sex, but eventually, like Mark, it became unimaginative and expected. You should marry someone else. The experiment had worked. She wrapped them up again, devoid of emotion for her lost relationship. She knew then that she’d be fine on her own.

The wooden box went into a bag along with his socks.

Room by room, Lucy removed all traces of her soon-to-be ex-husband. She would fight to keep the house, and hopefully, with some patience and a little extra money she could earn doing the odd freelance story here and there, she might be able to afford to remodel it to suit her own needs. She wanted her own office. It seemed silly since she had the entire house to herself, but she wanted one room where she could lose herself in her stories and do the necessary research needed. Imagining at night when she was too sleepy to continue, she’d shut the door and separate that world from the rest of her life. She vowed to make that dream a reality during the remodeling.

The upstairs completed, Lucy looked at the six bags piled in the living room. Many of the books on the shelves were his, so those went into bags as well. She also added their wedding picture as it meant nothing to her any longer, and perhaps he would study it at an inopportune time and have the tiniest regret for what he’d done to her life.

By the time she’d finished, there were ten bags in all. She dragged them into the garage and locked the door. Then she called in at the hardware store and purchased new locks for the house—something she should have done earlier. While she was there, she ordered a whole new front door and arranged to have Bob Mills install it when it arrived.

When she finally got back to Jon’s, she took a long, steamy shower to wash away the remnants of her old life. To her surprise, she felt no sadness—only excitement for her own future and the life she was about to create.

26

“I could use a nice dinner out and some conversation if you’re available. My treat.” Lucy’s voice was filled with trepidation. She wasn’t sure if Brendon was angry if he’d been told she’d left the precinct without an explanation.

He paused a while. “I hear from Sal that I’ve been two-timing you?”

“Pffft…leave it to Sal.”

“Wish you’d trusted me enough to ask me instead of bringing her into it.”

“Does that mean you won’t have dinner with me?”

“No, it means that I’m paying. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Lucy disconnected before either of them could misinterpret another word.

Brendon picked her up later that evening. He opened the door to his regular car, and she slipped into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t you think it’s about time we went somewhere different? Where not everyone in the room is gathering fodder for Sal’s House of Gossip?”

Lucy laughed and nodded. “Surprise me.”

Brendon turned up the music and guided the car onto the expressway that ran along the coast. Although it was getting dark, there was no mistaking that they were near the sea. It didn’t take her long to relax, especially when Brendon rolled the windows down an inch, letting the sea air circulate inside the vehicle. By comparison to her well-used car, his car rode graciously over the blacktop, and Brendon was a casual but excellent driver. Lucy felt safe and at ease.

She discovered his choice when they pulled into the parking lot of Mama Ava’s, a very nice restaurant that specialized in Italian cooking. As soon as they entered, the scent of peppers, onions and tomato sauce lingered in the sea air. Her senses came alive, and she was definitely looking forward to sampling the aromatic menu.

Brendon ordered for both of them, clams in a rich white sauce over pasta and freshly baked artisan bread. They split a half bottle of wine.

“I like this,” Lucy stated after they’d settled in their seats. “I don’t get the chance to dine out that often—eating is something altogether different. But this is proper dining.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I’ve waited a long time to bring you here, you know.”

Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond. As Sal had aptly pointed out, she was still a married woman. Yet, she didn’t want to leave silence in that critical spot—especially not so soon after mistaking his relationship with Kathy. “I’m glad Sal set me straight,” she said.

He nodded, and she presumed that would

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