False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [75]
“That’s just great. It’s obvious we’re not going to reach Jude tonight.” Pierce threw his hands in the air. “Why are you standing out here in front of those windows when Ethan told us not to?”
Zoe cringed at his harsh tone. “Ethan said not to turn on the flashlight out here, and I won’t. I’m just antsy and wanted to walk around. I don’t want the sheriff’s patrol to know we’re here anymore than you do.”
“And I don’t want to be forced to call 9-1-1 because you fall and break your neck while walking around in the dark!” Pierce’s voice went up a decibel. “Let’s just try to get through this in one piece, okay? For once, will you just do what you’re told without adding your two cents?”
Zoe bit her lip. How was she supposed to reply to such an irrational outburst? She didn’t want to make him any more agitated that he already was. “All right,” she said calmly.
She turned on her heel and walked slowly toward the light in the back of the house, trying not to show how hurt she was. Did she even have a right to be hurt? If it weren’t for her lies, none of this would be happening. But was she going to let Pierce bully her the entire time they were confined together? Did she really have a choice? He had to let go of his anger and disappointment and fear somehow. Could she really blame him for taking it out on her?
She walked into the back bedroom and lay on her air mattress. It was only nine o’clock. She was too wired to be sleepy. Was she just supposed to lay here in silence and stare at the ceiling?
Zoe thought of Adele Woodmore and how kind the dear woman had been in the face of her startling confession. Hadn’t Zoe promised to call her tomorrow to see if the repayment agreement was ready and when and where she should go to sign it? If Pierce decided to split up, was she capable of operating Zoe B’s? Without Pierce’s partnership and support and culinary abilities, did she even want to? Did it matter what she wanted? She had agreed to pay Mrs. Woodmore a thousand dollars a month for the next thirty months.
What if their breakup caused their steady customers to stop coming? What if their friends felt allegiance to both of them and weren’t comfortable supporting Zoe as long as Pierce and she were at odds? Unless Zoe B’s continued to make a healthy profit, how could she come up with the extra thousand a month? Would she go bankrupt? Would she end up right back where she was ten years ago—without a family? Without enough money to take care of herself?
She was aware that Pierce had stretched out on the other air mattress, his hands clasped behind his head. A scowl distorted his classic French profile, his distinctive nose protruding from his taut face like that of a fairy-tale villain. She could only imagine the angry thoughts bouncing off his brain. How quickly his love had turned to disdain. Instantly their history had been rewritten. She was not the woman Pierce thought he married, and yet he was, and would forever be, everything her heart desired. How cruel was that reality; how befitting its irony.
Zoe wished she’d never been born. Emotion tightened her chest. She closed her eyes, salty tears soaking the sides of her face. She turned on her side, her hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the sobs until she felt as if her head would burst. She’d been alone before. But having experienced the joy of being truly loved—after the dysfunctional relationships she grew up with—could she survive without it? Then again, had Pierce loved who she really was, or who he thought she was? Would he have loved Shelby Sieger? If she had come wrapped in that package, with all the baggage that went with it, would he have felt the same?
Zoe sat up and grabbed the roll of paper towels and tore off a piece, then lay down again and blew her nose. In spite of misrepresenting herself, had she ever lied about her feelings for him? Hadn’t she been a good wife? Wouldn’t she have been a loving mother?
It was irrelevant now. Motherhood was one more dream crushed by the weight of her deceit. The family they were ready to start would never