False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [113]
Zoe had looked broken, her face red and swollen, her gait wobbly and frail. At least Tex Campbell held her by the arm and seemed to steady her. Was he aware that she and Pierce were thinking of separating? Or had Zoe kept that secret, too?
It was disturbing to see Emile Jarvis look so devastated. Would he ever recover from this? Would he ever be able to accept that his sweet, innocent son was hung from a live oak, his head bashed in?
Pierce put his hand on the back of his neck and massaged the muscles. He felt at the same time fury and compassion for Zoe’s plight. She had lied about herself. She would have to live with the consequences. But could there be any doubt that she cared deeply about Remy and would have never put him in danger? She wasn’t the monster; Cowen was. If there was any justice at all, Cowen was in hell.
One by one the stragglers left the church until Pierce was the only one left. He got up and walked down the side aisle and up to the front of the church where the statue of Mary stood, vases of flowers at her feet. He put an offering in the box and lit a votive candle, then knelt and said a prayer for Remy.
Finally he stood, a lump in his throat, and whispered, “Rest in peace, bud. You’re in a better place.”
Was he? Pierce wasn’t sure what he believed anymore. If God was so good, why had Remy been murdered? Why was his own life falling apart? He’d been faithful. He’d done exactly what the Church had required of him. He never missed Mass on Sundays and holy days. He went to confession regularly. Communion every Sunday. He kept the Ten Commandments the best he could. Said the rosary. He tried to be a good husband. He was faithful to Zoe and loved her with all his heart.
Did he deserve to have his marriage fall apart? Or to find out his father wasn’t his hero after all—that he was capable of doing something so dishonest?
Pierce glanced over at the altar and saw Father Sam, now dressed in black slacks and his black clerical shirt, reading the note cards on the flowers.
He turned around and walked quickly down the side aisle and exited by the side door. Most of the people who had populated the pews had left now. The parking lot was almost empty—like his heart and soul.
His father’s voice seemed to echo in the void. Just because she didn’t have the courage to tell you things she’s ashamed of doesn’t mean she never loved you. Or that she lies to you about other things. I didn’t.
Pierce sighed. How was that even possible? Should he get in his car and drive back to Houma? Or should he go find Zoe and take the first step to save their marriage? There was little chance he would change his mind about going back to her. But unless little chance became no chance, didn’t he owe it to himself to at least be open?
You’re the one with the power….This can have a happy ending. It just depends on how much grace you’re willing to give Zoe.
Pierce started the car and turned on the air conditioner. He adjusted the side mirror and heard laughter. He caught a glimpse of a young couple walking into Louie’s, one of the man’s arms around a pretty brunette, the other holding a curly-headed blond baby.
His heart felt as if it had gone limp and was lying in a heap. Could he bear to spend the rest of his life without Zoe—without any chance at his dream to raise a family with her? He was thirty-seven. How many years would it take him to start over? To find a woman he loved the way he loved Zoe?
Who was he kidding? He could never love any woman the way he loved her. He blinked to clear his eyes and swallowed the tightness in his throat, then pulled out of Saint Catherine’s onto Church Street, still not sure what to do.
His dad said he had all the power. So why did he feel so lost?
CHAPTER 37
Vanessa sat on her living room couch, cuddling Carter and soaking in the wonder of being alive—and being home.