her cleavage? Touch him in a way she shouldn’t have? All of the above?
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—a turban wrapped around my bald head, my body too thin, my insides ravaged by caustic drugs, antibiotics, infection. I brush my hand unconsciously over my breasts, feeling the burn of the scar.
I don’t like feeling vain, but I miss my hair. My skin is so dry it’s starting to crack, my left breast is misshapen from the surgery, and the weight loss has left me looking almost frail. My body feels alien, like it no longer belongs to me.
I miss feeling strong, miss being able to walk long distances without needing to stop to catch my breath. I miss carrying trays through the café, picking up my children, fastening my hair into a ponytail to get it out of the way while I decorate a cake.
And—I can admit now—I even miss the occasional glances of admiration that men used to toss in my direction. Before Dean, I did everything I could not to attract attention, but since I’ve grown and changed so much, become confident in myself and my abilities—well, I guess it shows.
Or it did. Now the glances are pitying, curious, or sometimes even rude. And I wonder how long it will take before I’m able to feel good about my body again.
The air behind me warms with Dean’s presence. He slides his arms around my waist, flatting his palms against my midriff. I let his body heat burn away the cold for a moment, but the distance between the memories of who we once were and the reality of now seems like an impossibly wide chasm to breach.
I pull away from him and go into the bathroom to get ready for bed. The dark thoughts try to push into my mind—I’m defective, Dean deserves better, I can’t even be a proper wife to him right now—but I keep them at bay with the knowledge of how deeply it would upset him to know I was thinking such things.
For the next week, I return my focus to Nicholas and Bella, ensuring they’re not too thrown off by Claire’s sudden departure.
True to his word, Dean takes care of the nanny situation—by bringing back my old friend Marianne, who used to own the Matilda’s Teapot tearoom before she retired.
Allie and I leased the building from her to open the Wonderland Café, and Marianne was instrumental in helping us get the business started. She also helped me a great deal as a part-time nanny with Nicholas for almost two years until she moved a few hours away to be closer to her daughter and grandchildren.
“I can’t believe it.” I hug her tightly when she shows up at the door of the Butterfly House. “You’re not moving back to Mirror Lake, are you?”
“I’m staying with my sister, and I’m here for as long as you need me.” Marianne pulls back to look at me, her eyes warm. “I never told you this, Liv, but I’m a breast cancer survivor. Fifteen years and counting. You’re going to be okay.”
Coming from her, the statement has a new, powerful resonance, even though I know to my bones that it’s not always true.
Chapter 36
Dean
April 26
I take a few books from the desk in my tower office and put them on the shelf by the wall. For months, my desk has been covered with cancer-related books that have buried my papers about the Knights Templar and concepts of chivalry.
I pick up a paperback that had gotten pushed behind my computer. Pride and Prejudice. I flip through the pages, past the place where I’d abandoned reading after Liv’s diagnosis.
“I believe I thought only of you.”
I set the book aside, not too interested anymore in finishing a novel about the marital issues of the nineteenth-century British gentry, even if it is one of Liv’s favorite books.
I clean off my desk and review a report about an archeological dig in Russia. I hear Liv’s car come up the drive as I’m typing an email.
Because I have no classes on Wednesdays, I like working from home so I can be around if Liv needs something. It’s also heartening when she has the energy to take the kids to school and run errands.
A soft knock sounds at my office door, and she pushes it open. I look up from the computer.
“Hi,” I say. “Everything okay?”
She nods and comes into the tower, closing the door behind her and setting a notebook on