A Turn in the Road - Debbie Macomber [3]
So of course he wanted her back. She was a successful businesswoman with a growing company that received lots of media and corporate interest. In six short years she’d made a name for herself. She’d been interviewed by Forbes and the Wall Street Journal. A piece had been written about her in USA Today. Her ex had his nerve.
Contrition was all well and good. Bethanne felt a certain vindication in hearing Grant admit how wrong he’d been, a certain sense of righteousness. She’d forgiven him to the best of her ability, refusing to let herself be trapped in the mire of resentment. He had a new life and so did she. But forgiveness, she’d learned, was tricky. Just when she felt sure she was beyond rancor, she’d find herself wallowing in indignation. Like the night three years ago when the pipe burst in the basement and she couldn’t figure out where to turn off the water. If Grant had been there he would’ve known what to do. By the time she found the tap she’d been shaking with anger, and as unreasonable as it seemed, she’d blamed Grant. This was all his fault. He should’ve been there. How dared he do this to her and, worse, to their children!
She should reject his invitation, she told herself now. Laugh in his face. Tell him to take a hike.
To her astonishment she couldn’t.
It had taken courage for Grant to approach her, courage and, yes, nerve. She’d give him that. Crazy though it might be, Bethanne realized she still had feelings for Grant, feelings she’d pushed aside for the past few years. She didn’t love him, not in the all-consuming way she had when they were married. Back then, she’d been blind to his flaws and his weaknesses, blind to what should’ve been obvious, especially after he’d started the affair. His betrayal had revealed that the man she’d married was selfish and shallow. And yet he hadn’t always been like that. She couldn’t forget the companionship—and the passion—of their early years together….
She loved him.
She hated him.
Both emotions warred within her.
“Dinner for old times’ sake,” he’d almost pleaded. “Besides, we need to talk about Andrew’s wedding.”
Six years ago Bethanne had been desperate for him to come home. Her pride was gone. What she’d craved was exactly what Grant wanted now—for everything to go back to the way it had been. At the time she’d believed she could fix whatever was wrong. They’d been happy, and could be again.
When it became apparent that his affair with Tiffany wasn’t a fling and Grant fully intended to go through with the divorce, an all-consuming rage had taken root. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. At night she lay awake plotting revenge. One day Grant would be sorry. He’d beg her to take him back and she’d laugh in his face. He would pay for what he’d done.
Then, several months after the divorce was finalized, she woke with that familiar ugly feeling in the pit of her stomach and realized this corrosive, soul-destroying bitterness couldn’t continue. As the saying had it, the best revenge was living well—living a successful, independent life. So Bethanne had dedicated herself to her business.
Gradually, she’d stopped thinking about Grant. She embraced her new life, her new identity. Indirectly, she had Grant to thank for her flourishing business, her circle of loyal new friends, for the strength and confidence she’d never known she had. It felt odd to her now that she’d once been content to be simply Grant’s wife, looking after his social affairs and staying in the background.
Dinner for old times’ sake? Just the two of them?
In the years since the divorce, Bethanne had dated a number of men. Besides Tiffany’s ex, a couple of them stood out in her mind. But she’d been so focused on building her business that neither relationship had lasted more than six months. She wasn’t ready or willing to make a serious commitment to anyone. Those relationships, albeit short, had boosted her depleted ego. She’d enjoyed them but she wasn’t looking for a long-term commitment.
Bethanne had concluded their phone call without giving Grant an answer.