Angel's Rest - By Emily March Page 0,66

Guilt over Jen and Matt and the accident. Guilt about causing his sister-in-law additional pain. Now guilt over Nic and the baby she carried. He was never free of it. He was a guiltaholic. Wonder if there’s a twelve-step treatment program for this. If so, sign me up for the meetings.

He was tired of this. Bone weary of feeling guilty every second of every day.

He glanced at the odometer. Two-thirds of the way there. Should be just enough time for him to clue her in on the arrangements he’d made. He lifted his water bottle from the cup holder, took a long swig, then said, “Open the glove box, Nic. Take the envelope and put it in a safe place. I’ve executed a new will, added you and the child as beneficiaries. Same thing with my insurance policies—the information is in there. So is my attorney’s name. I opened a bank account in your name and there’s a couple of credit cards.”

Her mouth formed a silent O. “Credit cards? Gabe, I admit my finances have been tight, but I don’t need all that.”

“Look, it’s no big deal to me. My profession pays well, and one of my technology investments paid off big-time last summer. Money is not a concern of mine.”

She removed the papers from the glove compartment, looked at the numbers on the bank statement, and her eyes went wide and round. They rode another five minutes in silence before she said, “Thank you, Gabe. I appreciate your making changes to your will and insurance in order to protect our baby’s financial future.”

For crying out loud, she sounded like a commercial. It annoyed him. The whole day annoyed him. He didn’t want to live like this.

Gabe waited until he’d negotiated Sinner’s Prayer Pass to say, “You need to give me a clue here, Nic. Please tell me what I can do to make this right. Look, I know the phone call hurt you and—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me say this,” he snapped. “You’ve dodged talking about this with me for more than a week. It’s surprised me, Nic. I didn’t take you for a coward.”

Her jaw went tight and she stared straight ahead, but she remained silent, so he pressed on. “I’m sorry you overheard my conversation with Jennifer’s sister. I’m sorry I embarrassed you in front of your friends. But this is no way to start a marriage. Where do we go from here, Nicole? I need a little help here. I don’t know what you want.”

She was quiet for a long time before she replied. “That’s part of the problem. I’m not sure what I want. I’ll be honest with you, Gabe. I feel like my world has been turned upside down and I don’t know which way is up. Sarah says it’s hormones, but that seems like an excuse. I’m … sad. I think I need a little time to adjust to everything.”

He spied a herd of bighorn sheep in the road ahead, braked, and honked his horn. He didn’t know what to say to her. “Nic, I’ll say it again. I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t.” She shook her head. “I understand, Gabe. Truly, I do. And I’m the one who is sorry. I know I’m being a pain. You’re not responsible for my feelings or emotions or neurosis. I think I simply need a little time to … well … let go of my dreams.”

Great. Guilt, guilt, and more guilt.

He negotiated the curve of a switchback, and then the rooftops of Eternity Springs came into view. Time to fish or cut bait. “Okay, then. That brings us back to the original question. Where do we go from here? Friends? Awkward acquaintances like we’ve been this past week? Do you want me to leave town and you’ll call me when the baby is born?”

“No,” she said softly. “I don’t want you to leave town. We need to be friends. That’s what is best for the baby.”

“Then this tension between us needs to end. That can’t be good for the baby, either.”

Tears flooded her eyes yet again. “I’m not trying to be awkward and tense. I am trying not to cry. I want to cry all the time, and it’s making me crazy. It’s not like me. I’ve never been a needy, clingy, whiny female, but that’s what I’m becoming. I can’t stand it. I can’t help it. I don’t know how to fix it.”

Gabe did. He set his mouth in a grim line and considered

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