My Way Home (St.Gabriel Series Book 1) (St. Gabriel Series) (17 page)

“Well, I want to come back to you.”

“Are you in love with her, Race?”

“No, Cammy, I love you. I did not love her. It was not love.”

“What was it, then?”

“I don’t know, but not love, nothing that would have ever lasted. You, what I feel for you is forever.” Race dropped his face toward the floor and laced his fingers through his hair, and I saw that he was wearing his wedding ring. He looked up. “It doesn’t matter what it was, Cam. It was wrong of me to leave. Whatever it was, I should not have done what I’ve done. I should not have let any of it happen. We were forever, Cammy. I meant it when I said it on our wedding day. I made a commitment. A commitment that was important to me. I don’t know why, how I could do what I’ve done. I am so sorry, Cammy.”

For a brief moment I felt a sense of relief and joy, and then I got angry. He couldn’t come in there, flip a switch, and wipe out everything he had done to me, our life, and our family. Oh, I was really angry.

“Once again, Race, your timing is not great. I’ve sold the house and I’m moving.”

“We can get another house. We talked about downsizing when Paul and Janie were on their own.”

“No, you talked about downsizing.”

“Okay, we won’t downsize. We can buy a bigger house. Anything you want.”

“I did buy a bigger house, Race. I bought four houses to be exact, three cottages and a lodge.”

“You bought a lodge?”

“And three cottages, and a barn, and a tool shed.”

“On St. Gabriel?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to move there. You can sell and we can look for a house here.”

“I didn’t have to move there before. I wanted to move there, and I still want to move there. And what right do you have to come in here and think I’m going to change all of my plans because you’ve changed yours? What makes you think I want you back, that I would take you back?”

“Nothing makes me think it. I was just hoping, praying.”

“You’ve hurt me, Race. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I do know, Cammy. I am so sorry, so, very, very sorry. If I could take it back, I would. If I could do it all over… I hate what I’ve done to you, to our family, but mostly I hate what I’ve done to you. I love you so much, Cammy. I’ve missed you so much. I don’t know how I could have done what I’ve done to you, to us. I hate it.” He got up and was moving toward me.

I held my hand up. “Stay there, Race.”

He sat back down and rubbed his hands over his face, something he does when he’s overwhelmed, and when he looked up his eyes were filled with tears. “Cam, can you forgive me? Please forgive me. Please try to forgive me. I know it would take time for us to get back to where we were?”

“Back to where we were? No, Race, there is no getting back to where we were. It’s all different. I’m different. You made sure of that.” I got up and stood in the doorway. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I’m moving, Race. Do you hear me? I am moving.”

“Even if it means we won’t be together again?”

“I won’t let you come in here and drop this on me and make me feel I have to give you a yes or no. You can’t do this to me.” I ran up the stairs, threw myself on the bed, and sobbed the deepest most gut-wrenching sobs I have ever cried.

An hour later, my eyes swollen to slits, I came down the stairs. Race was still sitting on the sofa.

“Race, I’m moving to St. Gabriel.”

“You don’t even want to try?”

“I didn’t say that, maybe I do. But I’m moving. And honestly, Race, I don’t know if I could ever get past what’s happened, what you’ve done. You were with someone else. You were with her.”

“I know, Cammy. I am so sorry.”

“I don’t trust you anymore.”

His face fell. I didn’t trust him. I had trusted Race so implicitly and I would never trust him that way again. That made me sad. I never again trusted anyone like I used to.

I think marriage can be tough as rubber, bouncing back from illnesses, deaths, and financial hardships, tough in circumstances. But when it comes to the heart, it’s fragile, which makes any marriage vulnerable. At one time I believed some people were capable of cheating and others simply were not. I believed that. Now I know anyone is capable. Relationships are fragile. Marriage is fragile, a fragile vessel that two people climb into and if they’re not careful the vessel cracks, and if they’re careless, it breaks.

“Race, I’ve spent the last six months trying to imagine a new life, a life without you, and finally on St. Gabriel I was able to do it. I’m moving, whatever happens with us, I’m moving.”

I was seeing desperation on Race’s face, and I’d never seen it on him before.

“Cammy, are you asking me to give up teaching, to leave our family and friends?”

“Your family and friends, you mean, and I’m not asking you to give up anything. I’m just telling you what I’m doing.”

“That’s it, then?”

“If you mean that I’m not staying here and that I’m moving to St. Gabriel, yes, that’s it.”

He got up from the sofa and walked into the entry, opened the door and looked back. His face was wet with tears. “Do you love me, Cammy?”

It hurt, thinking it hurt, saying it would hurt more.

I wish I didn’t, but…

“Yes.”

When he walked out and shut the door, I walked over to it and pressed my body against it and cried, “What am I doing? What do I know, what do I know?”

It was like losing Race all over again. I felt myself sinking back into the dark hole. It took effort to carry my own body up the stairs and across the room. I wanted to leave Texas and forget all about Race Coleman.

Why do I still love him after all he’s done to me? If I didn’t, I could just leave and forget about him. I’m moving, moving to an island to restore a lodge, to live in a cottage. Sara is there, the good Sara, and James, what about James?

I continued to prepare for my move. I had already set the date for the sale and advertised. In less than three weeks, people would be wandering through my home, buying the last twenty-five years of my life.

I was in the garage stacking boxes of Paul and Janie’s things that Race’s dad was coming over to pick up, and I saw Race, walking up the driveway.

He stopped in front of me and stood close. “Cammy, you are the only woman I have ever loved, and I will always love you. I’ll go anywhere to be with you. If you’ll let me, I’ll come with you to St. Gabriel. Please, try to forgive me, Cam.”

Questions

Race and I sat on boxes in the garage and we talked. I wanted to know everything. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was so there wasn’t a part of Race’s life I didn’t know about. Or maybe it was because I thought it might help me understand why it had all happened, why he had done what he did. Maybe it was because I needed to know Race would do anything to save our marriage, and I needed to be assured of where his loyalty was.

Had he ever had an affair before? That was a question I had thought of many times while he was gone. He promised me he hadn’t. Naïve maybe, but I believed him. I needed him to tell me why he loved me, why he wanted to be with me.

And then there were the really tough questions. How did it all start with her, and when? Why? What did they do together and say to each other? What was it like with her? He didn’t want to talk about it, but he did. He talked about everything.

It was all difficult to hear, but the answer to why he did what he did caused a pain that filled me with regret. Race made choices that I don’t blame myself for, but I had done things that caused him to feel the desire to make those choices, things I wouldn’t have done if I had known I was pushing Race away.

Over the next few days, Race and I talked for hours. To forgive—is there anything more difficult in life to do? Could I forgive him? I didn’t know. Could I forgive myself?

I would never forget, that I was sure of. I didn’t really want to. I told Race I’d try to forgive him. What had happened to our marriage scarred it, made it different. In some ways it made it better. I’m not recommending it, mind you, but when you almost lose something that is so important to you, it deepens your appreciation of it in your life. I intended to be more careful.

When Race moved back into the house, it was in more disarray than it had ever been. He had never dealt well with disorder, but he stepped over the piles and ignored the half-packed boxes in every room.

Race said he would break his contract and leave his teaching position even though the semester had already begun. Again, naïve maybe, but I believed him.

I told him, “No, you finish the fall semester, we’ll wait until the spring. The ferries should be running again in April.”

Changing gears from thinking about my life being just me, took a little getting used to. I had made my plans to move to St. Gabriel without considering what Race thought or needed. It was our life again, our future, our money, our move, and our new home. And the oddest thought, our lodge.

We made plans for our life together on the island. Race would work on the novel he had talked about writing since I first met him, and I would oversee the renovation of the property. And when we could, we would travel in the off-season.

I decided the U.S. Mail might be a better way to communicate with George, so I wrote him a letter to let him know when I would be moving and that my husband would be with me. I had never mentioned a husband to him, or lack of one, and I didn’t try to explain. I doubted he spent a lot of time thinking about it.

I called Sara and told her, and she said, “I can’t wait to meet him, Cammy.” And I think she meant it.

Loretta was still mad at Race, I could hear it in her voice, but I think she was relieved I wouldn’t be alone when I made my crazy move across the country.

I finally got up the courage to call James. I got his voicemail and hung up without leaving a message. An hour later he called back and Race answered.

“It’s for you.” Race handed me the phone and went into his study and closed the door.

“Hi, Cammy, did you call?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

“Caller I.D.”

Technology.

“James, I called because I wanted you to know that I’ve gotten back with my husband and when I move to the island, he’s coming with me.”

“I know, Cammy.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It’s a small island.”

“Yes, I guess it is, isn’t it? I’m sorry you didn’t hear it from me first.”

“That’s okay, Cammy. I have that list of names for you, carpenters, electricians, plumbers, if you still need them.”

“I do. Thank you.”

“I’ll mail it to you.”

“Thanks.”

“Cammy, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, James.”

“Well, you take care.”

“You too.”

“Goodbye, Cammy.”

“Goodbye, James.”

I hung up the phone, and a dull pain throbbed in my chest. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Race, I did, but I also didn’t want James to hurt. I didn’t want anyone to hurt. There had been enough of that.

I opened Race’s study door and leaned against the frame. Race stopped sorting through his bookshelves and asked, “Who was that?”

“James Alexander. When I was on the island, the girls and I met him and a couple of his friends at a restaurant.”

“And…”

“And I saw him when I was out for a walk one night. He was running. We watched a sunset, and we watched fireworks. It was all by happenchance.”

“Sunsets and fireworks by happenchance?”

“Yes, and we watched a parade, on purpose.”

“He lives on the island?”

“In the summer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“Because he’s just a friend.”

“If he’s just a friend, why wouldn’t you have told me about him?”

“Because, Race, we had crazy hot sex on the beach, and then again at the fireworks with hundreds of people around, and then in the middle of the parade on a float, rolling down Main Street. You’re the one that had an affair, not me. Don’t give me the third degree.”

“I’m not giving you the third degree.”

Race’s ability to stay calm and my tendency to get worked up always made me feel I was wrong, even when I wasn’t. I did that to myself.

“Is he the reason you wanted to go back to St. Gabriel?”

“No, I love the island, and I saw the lodge before I ever met him. But, Race, the truth is if you and I hadn’t gotten back together, it may have turned into something. But as far as I was concerned, I was still married when I was on the island, so we spent time together as friends. It was nice. And now I think I may have hurt him and he was already hurting. He’s going through a really difficult divorce.”

“You have feelings for him.”

“I care about him. He was kind to me. I like him, and I wanted to be friends with him. I would still like to be friends with him, although I know that’s probably not going to happen now. You’d like him. If the situation were different, I think you would have been friends. I love you, Race. I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for you. I really don’t think it’s possible I ever could. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about him. I guess I didn’t know what I would say without making it sound like it was something more than it was. Maybe it’s because I knew it probably would have turned into something more if we had divorced, and I moved. He was calling me back just now. I had called to tell him you and I had gotten back together.”