the window. Because this conversation seemed too important to have from a distance, she sat down next to him with her back to the door.
If he suggested they try again, what would her answer be?
She nursed her coffee, giving herself time. “What exactly are you suggesting?”
“I don’t know.” He looked as confused as she felt. “But I think we should talk about the divorce, don’t you?”
Maggie heard a faint sound behind her seconds before she heard her daughter’s voice.
“Divorce? You’re getting a divorce?”
Drenched in horror, Maggie turned and saw Katie standing a few feet away. She was holding a box of pastries and staring at them as if they were strangers.
No need to ask how long she’d been standing there or how much she’d heard. The answer was visible in the agony on her face. She’d obviously heard everything and neither Maggie nor Nick had even heard the door open.
Maggie forced herself to stand up. Her legs shook. Her hands shook. Her coffee sloshed on her leg, but she ignored the burn. She had bigger things to worry about. She’d spent months planning the best way to tell the girls. She’d ached over how and when. Never once had this scenario crossed her mind.
She wanted to blame Nick, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. If she’d listened to him, they’d have done it a long time ago, and they would have done it together.
A tiny part of her wondered what, exactly, Nick had wanted to talk about before Katie had interrupted them but she ignored that, too. Right now, the priority was her daughter.
Katie looked as if she was in shock. As if she’d witnessed something she hadn’t yet managed to process.
Maggie knew she’d never forget the look on her daughter’s face. “You should have told us you were coming over.”
“Why?” Katie glanced at the tumble of bedding on the couch. “So you could both climb into the bed and pretend to be together?”
“We need to talk. Sit down, Katie.”
“I don’t want to sit down.” Her steady, reliable, calm and unflappable daughter looked distraught. “I want to know what’s going on. You’ve told everyone this is a second honeymoon. You two have been glued together since you arrived here and frankly it’s been a little embarrassing. But suddenly here you are getting a divorce? I don’t understand.” She looked so hurt and confused that Maggie rushed across to her and tried to wrap her in her arms.
“Katie—”
“No!” Katie pushed her away. “I don’t want hugs, I want answers. It was all an act, wasn’t it? The we’re so in love thing you and Dad have going on. An act.”
Maggie knew her face was probably the color of a Santa suit. “We probably should have told you before now, but it hasn’t been easy and I was trying to find the right time, and that time wasn’t immediately before your sister’s wedding.”
“How could I have been so stupid? I thought it was odd that the two of you were so demonstrative all of a sudden, but I assumed it was because you were making the most of taking a holiday together.”
“We—” Maggie glanced at Nick. “I thought it was best to wait and tell you after the wedding.”
“Does Rosie know? No, of course she doesn’t.” Katie paced to the kitchen area and put the box of pastries down on the counter. “She keeps using you as her inspiration. Holding you up as an example of a perfect marriage. So what’s the plan? Is Dad going to move out? Or have you split Honeysuckle Cottage in half or something?”
Maggie swallowed. “Dad’s already moved out. He has a room in college. We’ve been living apart for a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Since the summer.”
Katie stared at her. “The summer? Oh my—” She choked on the words. “I can’t—”
“Katie—” Maggie stepped forward but Katie headed for the door.
“Don’t touch me. I need some air. Space. Time to think.” She was stammering. Stumbling.
Maggie felt as if her heart had been ripped in two. “Please, Katie—” But her daughter was already at the bottom of the steps and flying down the snowy track that led to the tree house as if she was being hunted.
Maggie whirled to Nick who was standing silently by the sofa, staring after his daughter. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you do something?”
“You heard her. She wants space. Best to let her have that space and then we can talk properly later.”