“Not the whole situation.” Nick grabbed her hand and tugged her down next to him. “Last night was—”
“It was.” She leaned in and kissed him, her heart full, but her mind somewhere else. “And I know we still have so much to talk about and work through, but our priority right now has to be our girls. And I don’t even know which one of them to go to first.”
“Maybe they don’t need us wading in. They need space. You heard Katie. They’re adults. They want to be treated as adults, and that means leaving them to sort out their own problems.”
“Leave them? You mean not go to them?”
“Our role is to support, Mags, not fix.”
“But they’re both hurting.” And she’d never grown used to the fact that when her children hurt, she hurt, too. It was as if there was a physical connection. How could she not go to them at a time like this? “And what did Rosie mean about Jordan intentionally keeping Katie away for the night so that she and Dan could be together?”
“I don’t know. There have obviously been things going on between the girls that we don’t know about.”
“Now I think about it, you’re right. Katie looked upset. Do you think something happened between her and Jordan?”
“Jordan? What would happen between her and Jordan?”
“Oh Nick.” Maggie shook her head. “You must have picked up the tension between them.”
“Exactly. Tension. So nothing is likely to have happened, is it? Except that if he did keep her there on purpose then the guy will probably live to regret it.”
“How can someone so smart be so clueless?”
“Jordan?”
“You! I don’t mean angry tension, I mean sexual tension. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t picked up the chemistry between them?”
“Chemistry?”
“Let’s just say they’re not indifferent to each other, and I can’t believe you haven’t noticed that.”
“What can I say? My brain has been full of my own romantic issues, and intrigue is definitely not my area of expertise. I need coffee. Maybe then I’ll be able to process this. Go to the girls.” He sounded tired. “I know you want to, and it’s fine.” He walked to the kitchen and she watched him go, torn in two. How many times had she put the girls first? The answer was every time. She hadn’t nurtured her marriage, assuming with a flagrant carelessness that it didn’t need tending and would be fine. Neglected, it had withered, but apparently it hadn’t died. New shoots were visible, and there was definitely life in their relationship. But not if they were simply going to carry on as they had before.
She wanted to go to the girls. She wanted to dress their wounds, hug them tightly and help them heal. She could tell herself that this was a crisis moment, that they needed her now, and that next time she’d take a step back. But there would always be a crisis, wouldn’t there? That was life. There were always explosions, whichever path you walked.
And Nick was right. They were adults now. They needed to find a way to deal with their own problems. If they wanted to come to her, they’d come to her.
She slid out of bed, ignoring the almost physical pull to go to her children.
And it wasn’t only the girls of course. What about Catherine? She’d put so much effort into making this the perfect wedding and right now it didn’t look as if it would happen.
She reached for her phone and then put it down again. Catherine probably needed time to process what had happened, too. It would be fine to call later.
She slipped on a robe and walked to the living room.
“You’re right, this time I’m putting us first. If the girls want us, they can call.”
He paused, a mug in one hand and the jug of coffee in the other. “I understand if you want to go to them, Mags.”
“I don’t.” She was sure of it now. “They’re important, but we’re equally important. I don’t want to lose this, Nick. I’m not even sure what ‘this’ is, but I want to give it the attention it deserves.” She needed to know she’d done everything she could to hold on to this marriage that was so precious to her. How could she have let something so special go without a fight? How could she?
He held her gaze and she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a long time. Something that was hers alone. Something that no