Honor

that Kevin was awake, his intense gaze closely examining the house that had once been so special to them.
“It looks neglected,” he observed ruefully. “When was the last time we were out here?”
“Together?” she questioned pointedly. “Three years ago. We drove out for the day.”
He regarded her with astonishment. “Surely that can’t be.”
“You’ve been too busy,” she reminded him, trying—and failing—to keep the note of censure out of her voice.
He sighed. “That excuse must have worn thin. I remember how much you always loved coming here, especially this time of year before the summer crowds came back.”
Kevin leaned closer, his breath fanning her face. He trailed his knuckles along her cheek, stirring her senses. She turned into the caress, and his fingers stroked her skin. The pad of his thumb skimmed provocatively over her lips.
“I’m sorry, Lace. I truly am.”
She could tell from the look in his eyes that he really meant it, and something deep inside her shifted, making room for emotions she wasn’t yet prepared to handle. Trying to ignore the trembly feeling he could still evoke in her, Lacey swallowed hard. She pulled away and summoned a smile.
“No more apologies, remember? We’re here now.” Her tone turned brisk. “We’d better get you inside. Linc wasn’t all that thrilled that you wanted to come here, rather than stay in Boston.”
“He just hates the fact that he won’t be able to run up my bill with all those house calls,” Kevin said as he opened the door and got out, following her to the trunk.
Instinctively he reached for a bag as they began the familiar ritual of unloading the car. Worried about the strain on his still-healing heart, Lacey quickly waved him off. “I’ll get these.”
A rare flash of anger rose in his eyes, then died just as quickly. “You’re right,” he said stiffly. “I’ll go unlock the door. I should be able to manage that much at least.”
Lacey cursed the fact that she’d reminded him that for now he wasn’t as vital and healthy as he’d always been. Kevin had never been able to cope with so much as a cold, hating the slightest sign of weakness in a body he’d always tested to the limits. He looked so strong, with his powerful shoulders and well-sculpted legs, that she herself could almost forget that inside he was not yet healed.
Tennis, sailing and, years earlier, football—he had played them all with demanding intensity. How difficult it must be for him now to defer the simplest tasks to her. Still, Linc’s instructions had been specific, and she intended to follow them to the letter.
There was no sign of Kevin as she made the half dozen trips to carry their luggage inside. He had vanished as soon as he’d opened the front door for her.
After an instant’s hesitation, Lacey placed his bags in the master bedroom and her own in the guest room across the hall. The width of that hall was no more than three feet, but she saw it as symbolic of the ever-widening chasm between them in their marriage.
Worried that Kevin was still not inside—on such a chilly, blustery day—his first out of the hospital—she went in search of him.
She found him at last in back of the house, standing atop of a distant sand dune. Wearing only a thin jacket, a knit shirt and jeans, he had his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched against the wind. He was staring out to a white-capped sea that roared its strength as it crashed against the shore.
Guessing a little of what he must be feeling, Lacey walked to his side, hesitated, then tucked her arm through his.
“It certainly is setting up a fuss today, isn’t it?” she observed.
At first she didn’t think he would answer her, either out of some lingering resentment or because he was lost in his own thoughts. Finally he glanced at her, then back to the ocean and said, “I’d forgotten what that sound is like, how it fills up your head, driving out all petty annoyances.”
“Like a symphony. Isn’t that what you told me once?”
Kevin shook his head, clearly bemused by the words. “Was I ever that poetic?”
“I thought you were.”
He turned and met her gaze then. Lacey thought for a moment she could see straight into his soul. Such sadness. It made her ache to think of him hurting so deeply. Yet her own sorrow was just as deep, just as heart-wrenching.
“Past tense,” he noted wearily.
This time she lifted her fingers to caress his cheek. “Don’t,” she said softly. “Please don’t. We have to make a pact to stop looking back. We have to look ahead.”
“I’m not sure I dare.”
Surprised by the genuine note of dismay in his voice, she asked, “Why?”
“What if there’s only emptiness? Without you, that’s all it would be, you know.”
Hearing him say the words, hearing him admit how much she meant to him should have made her feel deliriously happy. But she was no longer that shy, innocent girl who’d given her heart so freely. Instead, knowing all she did, she felt this terrible pressure—pressure to forget the differences that had brought them to this moment, this place.
A part of Lacey wanted to give in now and promise him that everything would be as it always had been. She desperately needed to believe that coming here had been enough to reassure her. But the part of her that listened to her brain, rather than her heart, knew it was far too soon for either of them to make a commitment like that. Despite the pretty words, Kevin was no more ready for promises than she was.
She touched his cheek again, her splayed fingers warm against his chilled flesh, the gesture meant to comfort, not to promise. Their gazes met, caught, lingered. The silent communication was filled with hope and wistful yearning.
“I’m going to start dinner,” she told him after several seconds passed. “Don’t stay out here too long. It will be dark soon and the air is