The Summer of Sunshine and Margot - Susan Mallery Page 0,115
on the other side of the plate glass window.
“It is you!” Elle screamed. “Oh my God!”
She started to open the restaurant door but Sunshine hurried to meet her outside where at least the conversation wouldn’t disrupt everyone’s breakfast.
“How dare you show up here?” Elle demanded as Sunshine approached. “You’re disgusting, you whore. You left them. You left my daughters—you disappeared with no warning. You didn’t even have the courtesy to tell them yourself. You never answered their texts or explained. They were devastated. They cried for weeks. I had to put them in therapy to get over the fucking nanny.”
Elle’s eyes were wild. Saliva flew with each word. She was small, but still appeared threatening. “I had to fly home from my business trip and their father missed work because of you. I will hate you forever. You’re a horrible, selfish person and I hope you die alone. It’s one thing to screw with my life, but you hurt my children and for that you should suffer.”
Before Sunshine could figure out what to say or if it would be better to simply bolt, Elle slapped her hard across the face, then stalked away.
Sunshine stood alone on the sidewalk. She knew everyone in the restaurant was watching her, everyone had heard. She wanted to say it wasn’t that bad, but everything Elle had said was true. She had left the girls with no warning, hadn’t gotten in touch with them. She’d left children before, but not like that. Never so cruelly.
She walked to her car and got inside, then rested her forehead on the steering wheel and began to cry.
* * *
By nine-thirty in the evening, Declan started to get worried. He hadn’t seen Sunshine all day and while she was welcome to do what she would like on her days off, she usually made an appearance.
He told himself she could come and go as she liked. That it was possible she was spending the evening with her sister, or maybe she was out on a date. Or possibly right this second she was in some guy’s bed, having the time of her life. It wasn’t his business—not any of it. Only he didn’t want to think about her out on a date and he sure as hell didn’t want her doing it with a random stranger, or even someone she knew, for that matter, unless that someone was him, which it couldn’t be and, damn, was he messed up.
Connor was in bed, the house was quiet and Declan didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced the long hallway leading to his bedroom, then decided to check the garage one more time. Maybe she’d come home when he’d been putting Connor to bed or something.
He pushed open the door and saw that her car was parked next to his. The cracks and pings of cooling metal told him she hadn’t been back very long. Relief eased some of his concern. She was home and therefore all right. Fine. He would read for a bit before calling it a night himself.
Only he couldn’t seem to make his way back to his bedroom. Something in his gut said there was a problem, although he had no idea why. He had never been very emotionally intuitive.
Still, he found himself heading for the kitchen. Sunshine wasn’t there, nor was she in the family room. That left her bedroom which was completely off-limits. He didn’t go in there, ever, and he wasn’t going to start now.
He turned to walk purposefully toward his room, only as he went by the windows, he saw her in the backyard. She was stretched out in one of the chaises on the patio. It was dark, it was cool and she’d never done anything like that before. Even knowing he should stay out of whatever it was, he opened the back door and stepped outside.
“Hey,” he said as he approached. “Did you just get back?”
“I did.”
Her voice was low and soft and he couldn’t tell anything from her tone.
He hesitated for a second, then sat on the chaise beside hers, angled to face her, his feet on the concrete. It was dark enough that he couldn’t see much of her face so he had no idea what she was thinking.
“Did you have a good day off?” he asked, really wanting to know that she was okay so he could retreat to his room and entertain himself with inappropriate fantasies about what could never be.