The Summer of Sunshine and Margot - Susan Mallery Page 0,87
He didn’t want anything to do with her, so she came back to me.”
“She told you the affair was over and that she was dying?” Sunshine consciously lowered her voice. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “I was furious. How could she have done this to us? I knew I would never forgive her, but what did it matter? She was dying and I had to deal with that, and Connor. She was gone in less than a month.”
“I’m so sorry.” For Connor and Declan, she thought. Not so much for Iris. “How awful for you.”
“Thanks. Sometimes I think the worst part is we never really talked about it. What was there to say? She’d chosen him over me, so our marriage was over, but I wasn’t going to leave. And there was Connor to consider. He was devastated. When my folks came to stay with us, I didn’t tell them about any of it, of course. They thought everything was fine.”
What a nightmare, she thought. How was he supposed to get over what had happened? There had been no time to make things right, no time to process. One second their marriage had been in trouble and the next Iris was dying. Who could possibly deal with that?
“You must still be angry,” she said quietly.
“Less so with time. I don’t know why she did what she did, but it happened. I’ll never know exactly what went wrong with us, but lately I’ve decided I only have to figure out my part of it. What I’m responsible for. The rest is on her.”
“Still, it’s a huge thing.” She reached down and pulled out the toe spacers. “Sorry about these.”
He smiled. “Don’t be. I’m not traumatized. It was just the shock in the moment. I’m fine now. I don’t want you to worry about painting your nails around me.”
“It is an odd trigger.”
He chuckled. “Everyone needs to be special in their own way.”
She had a lot of questions about Iris and their marriage and what he was feeling, but none of them were her business. She should probably excuse herself and go start dinner, but instead she said, “You really need to go out with Phoebe. Even if nothing comes of it, you’ll have broken the ice, so to speak.”
“Time to move on?”
“Past time.”
“And you’re an expert?” His voice was teasing.
“No, but it’s always easier to see what’s wrong with other people’s lives than our own. How can you not know that?”
“I’ll consider your advice.”
“Good.”
They looked at each other. She felt tension in the room and wasn’t sure how much of it was from what they’d just talked about and how much of it was wishful thinking on her part. If only he would kiss her, she thought before she could mentally slap herself. No kissing. No anything.
“I won’t say anything to Connor,” she told him as she got to her feet. “You have my word.”
“Sunshine, there are many things I question but you doing what’s best for my son isn’t one of them.”
* * *
Alec paced for an hour, trying to decide if he was more embarrassed or humiliated. Not that he owed anyone an explanation about his collection. The netsuke were beautiful art—master carvings, regardless of the subject matter.
But Margot might not understand or appreciate the fine workmanship. She might think he was some kind of perverted creep who—
“Alec?”
He looked up and saw her in the doorway to his office. Her eyes were wide, her expression serious.
“Margot.”
That was pretty much all he had. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. Telling her he wasn’t weird or into pornography didn’t seem designed to help his cause.
Before he could stutter through some ridiculous explanation, she began to speak.
“I want to apologize,” she told him, her gaze steady. “I was wrong to open the back of the cabinet. I knew it was a puzzle and completely forgot that you might be keeping something out of public view for a reason. Instead I was all about solving the problem.” She cleared her throat and looked away. “I suppose on some level, I wanted to show off.”
What? He hadn’t been expecting that. “You weren’t showing off.”
She shrugged. “I kind of was. Plus, the netsuke were so fascinating. I got caught up and violated your privacy. I apologize.”
“You don’t have to.” Now it was his turn to clear his throat. “The erotic netsuke come from a time in Japanese society when baser human desires were suppressed, socially. When that happens, the resulting need often spills out