Dead Silence (Stillwater Trilogy 1) - Page 45/98

“Not always?”

At times she felt as though she was almost normal. “Right.”

He chuckled bitterly. “That’s real passion.”

Grace wondered whether he’d feel any better if she finally explained why she struggled so much with physical intimacy. But she feared it was already too late. And she wasn’t sure it would be fair to expect George to understand and compensate—which, knowing him, he’d probably try to do. The past was her problem. He had the chance to get out of the relationship, to start seeing someone who wasn’t damaged as she was, and she cared enough to want that for him. Why should he have to pay for what had happened to her?

The tightness in her throat made it difficult to find her voice. “So who is this other woman?”

“You really want to know?” he asked.

“Maybe it would help if I could picture you with someone who’ll make you happy.”

He cursed softly. “Don’t say that, Grace. It only makes this harder for me.”

“Who is it?” she repeated.

“You know my secretary, Heather?”

Her mind flashed back to the strangled sound of Heather’s voice the last time she’d called. “You’re seeing Heather?”

“No, her older sister came by the office, and…well, we sort of hit it off.”

Something sharp seemed to be stabbing Grace in the chest, again and again. Tightening her grip on the phone, she tried to slow her breathing, to bear the pain. “Have you slept with her?” she whispered.

There was an awkward silence. “Yes.”

The darkness pressed closer. Hot. Cloying. Terrifying. Just like that night when she was thirteen and she woke with the reverend’s hand clamped tightly over her mouth….

I won’t think about it! But she couldn’t stop the tears burning behind her eyes.

“That’s how I…that’s when I realized what it felt like to be with a woman who really wanted me,” he said.

Grace couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. She could imagine how wonderful it must’ve been for George to feel desired—and couldn’t even hold what he’d done against him. This was her fault, not his. She couldn’t give him what he wanted. She’d locked her sexuality away long ago. Those early experiences with the reverend had left too many scars.

She squirmed out of the sleeping bag, gasping for air.

“Grace?” he said after several seconds.

Someone was stirring in the other tent. She was afraid of waking Heath and Teddy. “What?” she managed to respond, her voice barely audible.

“Are you okay?”

She burrowed deeper into the bag, hoping to smother all sound along with the pain. “Yes,” she lied.

Silence. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I know we talked about trying again once you got back, but…I’m afraid to miss this opportunity with Lisa because I can’t believe anything will really change between us.”

“Don’t apologize.” She swallowed hard. “I—I understand.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Grace.”

“I know.” Her nose was running. Sniffling, she wiped her eyes. “Can we still be friends?”

“I don’t think so.” He spoke as though the words had been wrenched from him, but they drove through her like a pickax. “I’m afraid we’d fall right back into the same relationship,” he said. “Whoever I’m seeing could never compare to you. Not if I don’t make a clean break and put what we had behind me.”

Grace couldn’t imagine returning to Jackson without George there, waiting for her. They’d been together for three and a half years. Except for the fact that he wanted to make love far more often than she did, their relationship was comfortable. But he was right. Their love life wasn’t spectacular, and probably never would be.

“You’ve been good to me,” she admitted, trying to keep the tears from her voice.

“I love you,” he said.

For a second, Grace felt the worst kind of panic. She wanted to fight for him, promise him anything that would make him change his mind. But he deserved someone who was madly in love with him, who would marry him without reservation and who would enjoy the physical aspect of the relationship far more than she did.

“I love you, too,” she admitted.

“Grace?”

He said her name with such doubt she fought a second impulse to capitalize on it. “You’re doing the right thing,” she said briskly and hung up.

Kennedy had heard the phone ring, the whispering and then the zipper of Grace’s tent. He knew she was going somewhere. He guessed it was to the bathroom. But if she’d taken the flashlight he’d given her for that purpose, she didn’t turn it on. And when she walked away, it wasn’t in the direction of the Port-a-Potties, which were several campsites to their left.

Was she sneaking off to search for the Bible he’d stuck in the glove compartment of his Explorer? He probably would’ve let her go, but he didn’t think that was it. Something had happened during that phone call. He hadn’t heard enough to follow the whole conversation, but he suspected Grace was upset.

He listened to her footsteps recede. She seemed to be heading down to the lake.

Being careful not to wake the children, he slipped out of his sleeping bag, pulled on a pair of jeans and hurried after her. He felt reluctant to invade her privacy, but he wanted to make sure she was okay.

Following at a distance, he hung back in the trees when she got to the beach. Once she passed into the moonlight, he realized she was dressed in a bathing suit and planned to go into the water.

At that point, he almost stopped her. The weather had cooled. She’d freeze when she got out….

But then he saw her dash a hand across her face and thought maybe she needed the solitude.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she waded into the water and plunged below the surface as though seeking oblivion.

Kennedy held his own breath until she came up for air, but he didn’t feel much better when she began to swim hell-bent for the middle of the lake.

Eventually, she turned toward shore and he started to relax. But she didn’t get out as he expected. Before she reached shallow water, she flipped around and glided out even farther.

“Shit.” Shoving his hands in his pockets to help combat the chill, he shifted anxiously on his feet. He didn’t want her in that big lake alone. The dark of night made the water look more like ink, and most of the time he could barely see her. What if she went under and didn’t reappear? How would he ever find her?