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And she wasn’t ashamed to admit she was reveling in it.

Tate finally swept in, greeting her with a chaste kiss on the cheek before introducing her to the small dark-haired man he had in tow—the director of the animal rescue. “I gotta do this fast,” he said under his breath. “I’m swamped today.”

“Then let’s do it.”

Clapping his hands a couple of times, Tate got everyone’s attention, silencing the low rumble that had filled Latte Dah. “For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Tate Harris, your local friendly veterinarian. It’s my privilege to help sponsor the Children’s Fair each Memorial Day. The Children’s Fair is a tradition in Magnolia Beach that families look forward to every year, and the money raised goes to excellent causes that truly deserve our support. Eula Kennedy has always been the driving force behind this event, but unfortunately she was unable to provide her usual excellent leadership this year. The person she tapped to serve in her stead, though, did an amazing job, and we are thankful for her hard work. On behalf of all the families who had a great time, I’d like to thank this year’s chair, Molly Richards.”

There was a heartening round of applause as she stepped forward. She wasn’t terribly comfortable speaking in front of people, but this was exciting, and that overcame her initial panic. “Thank you. It was my pleasure. I’m deeply grateful to everyone who donated their time and talents to making this event great. We couldn’t have done it without them. I’d like to welcome Camille James from the Haven Family Shelter and Carl Martin from the Mobile County Animal Rescue and present you both with these checks to support the work you do for the people and animals of our community.”

There was another round of applause as she smiled for the camera and shook hands. She motioned the
guests forward to make their speeches, but she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and something about it pulled her attention. It was just a man standing slightly off to the side by himself. Why he was twinging her Spidey-senses, she didn’t know, but he was. She moved a bit to try to get a better look at him. She could only see him from the back, but there was something familiar about the shape of his shoulders and the way he held his head . . .

Then he turned slightly and she saw his profile. Her heart jumped into her throat, and she froze.

No
. Sweet baby Jesus, this was
not
possible.

She closed her eyes, certain she was mistaken, but when she opened them, the horror was real.

It was Mark. And he was
here
.

She hadn’t laid eyes on him in nearly three years—not since the day she’d left Fuller and he’d shown up to try to stop her. He looked pretty much the same—a little heavier, though, with the Lane family paunchiness already starting to take root.

Mark looked up and caught her eye. Then he casually looked around the crowded room and smiled.

That smile curdled in her stomach. He couldn’t have planned this moment better, and Molly knew he was going to work it for all he could.

And there was not one goddamned thing she could do to stop him.

“Molly? You okay? You’re really pale.” Tate’s voice was concerned, and his hand was on her back in support, but she couldn’t turn to look at him. She’d missed the opportunity to tell him, and now it was going to bite her in the ass. She’d gotten so caught up in her New Molly life that she’d forgotten—or at least not wanted to think about—the truth and the disaster waiting to befall her.

Well, it looked like her wait was over.

Narrowing her eyes at Mark, she tried to visually threaten him into not making a scene, but that slick smile only broadened.

Following her stare, Tate asked, “Who’s that?”

She didn’t have an answer to give him, but it didn’t matter anyway. Mark was already right in front of her, leaning down to give her a kiss.

She jerked away, and Mark’s lips grazed her cheek. Beside her, she could feel Tate stiffen in shock and confusion and possibly umbrage, but she could only deal with one disaster at a time. The feel of Mark’s lips finally jerked her out of her frozen shock. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, sweetie. What else? It looks like a big day. You should have told me.” Turning his attention to Tate, Mark stuck out his hand. “Mark Lane. Molly’s husband.”

He’d intentionally raised his voice, and the shocked silence that followed in the wake of his words felt like her death knell.

Oh God.
She wanted to die. No, she wanted to kill Mark and
then
die.

“Her husband?” Tate parroted as his hand fell away from her back. The hand he’d automatically extended to Mark also dropped to his side. “Molly?”

A million questions hid behind that word, but she didn’t have the ability to address any of them right now. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at Tate, as she was simply too afraid to see confusion and condemnation on his face. Mark just looked smugly pleased with himself. “You son of a bitch.”

Her words seemed to break the silence that had been so complete only seconds before as people tried to make conversation and seem normal while eavesdropping at the same time.

So this is what it sounds like when the world crashes down around you.

“Don’t be like that, Marley—Molly,” he corrected. “I know it’s been a while and you’re mad, but we can work this out.”

There were too many people staring at her in varying degrees of disappointment and censure—and just moments after they’d all been watching her with pride and pleasure. She wanted to cry. She wanted to hit something—starting with Mark’s smug face.

It was his smug face that pushed her into action. She turned to Tate, and the look on his face slammed into her stomach. “I’ll explain later, okay?”

“What’s there to explain?” Mark interjected. “I’ve come to visit my wife.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. Then, straining for some level of calm in her voice, she addressed the general crowd with a weak smile. “If y’all will excuse us.” Grabbing Mark by the arm, she dragged him through the kitchen and out the back door into the alley.

Once the door was safely closed behind them, she whirled on him. “I
cannot
believe you. I knew you were an ass, but I can’t believe you would make a scene like that.”

“Embarrassed? Good. You should be. I was rather surprised to get here and find out no one had heard of Marley Lane. It took me forever to get any answers. Imagine my surprise when I found out you’d taken a lover—and that no one cared because no one knew you were married.”

How long had he been in Magnolia Beach? Must be just today because she’d have heard about it otherwise—especially since he’d been asking about her.
Oh God. He’s been asking about me
. Probably all over town, telling everyone he was her husband. Who all had he talked to? She was ruined. There were some lines that
just couldn’t be crossed without penalty, and adultery was one of them—no matter how progressive someone might be. And Magnolia Beach wasn’t exactly a hot spot of progressive sexuality.

“Since I don’t
want
to be married to you—a fact you are very well aware of, so don’t look so damn shocked—you can hardly blame me for not sharing that piece of information with the rest of the world.” She fought to keep her voice under control. She didn’t want him to see the worry or the hurt. Only the anger.

“Like it or not, we
are
married.”

“In a fair and just world where your daddy didn’t have the judge in his pocket, we wouldn’t be.”

“Marriage is forever, Mary Marlene Lane. You took vows in a church, in front of God. ‘Till death do us part.’ You remember that, don’t you?”

“I also remember the part about ‘love, honor, and cherish.’ You broke your vows first.”

His shoulders bowed up. Mark wasn’t used to back talk. “You’re my wife.”

“Much to my dismay.” She saw Mark’s hand twitch. “Try it, and I’ll be a widow instead of a divorcée,” she warned. A look of surprise crossed Mark’s face, but she could tell he believed her words. And they’d shocked him.

The rush of satisfaction and girl power was immediate and new. “I assume it’s too much to hope that you’re here with divorce papers for me to sign, so what do you want?”

“I don’t need a reason to visit my wife.” God, he was petulant.

“Actually, yes, you do.”

“Well, maybe I came to
remind
you that you are my wife.”

“You cannot be serious. I. Want. A. Divorce.” She
was nearly shouting now, but she couldn’t help it. “I do not want to be married to you. I don’t even
like
you.”

“Our families, our
church
, don’t believe in divorce. Marriage is forever.”

Breathe. Try to stay calm.
“You keep saying that—”

“Because it’s true.”

She pretended she didn’t hear the interruption. “But at no point have you acted like you actually want to be married to me. You don’t love me, and I’m pretty sure you don’t even like me very much, either.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my—”

“Wife,” she finished for him. This was enough to make her want to tear her hair out. “Yes, I know that. But I’m not your damn property. I am a
person
, completely separate from you. This is about your ego, nothing more.”

She could tell she’d scored a point, but Mark wasn’t done yet with the guilt-tripping. “I can’t believe you’re going to turn your back on everything you were raised to believe.”

“I already have.” She lifted her chin. It wasn’t going to work on her this time. “I quit living my life to please my family and my church when they turned their backs on me in my time of need.”

“You weren’t ‘in need,’ Marley.” He sneered. “Stirring up drama for attention is not ‘need.’ Just because no one bought tickets to your theatrics—”

She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation. Even after all that therapy, she’d still let herself be dragged back into his games. But it stopped now. She held up a hand to quiet him. “So did you come here just to embarrass me or is there something else?”

“Enough’s enough, Marley.”

“I agree. Sign the papers, and we’ll be done with all of it.”

“I will not. You need to come home.”

I am home.
“To a town where you’ve smeared my reputation? No way. And I don’t know why you’d want me to. That would only be an embarrassment for you.”

“It’s less of an embarrassment than having my wife run off. You’ve had your fun, and now it’s time to face the music.”

“There’s nothing for me to face.” Something about the look on his face, though . . . “Wait. You seriously think I’m going to go back?”

He nodded.

There was shock. Then there was disbelief. Finally, there was just pity. “You know, all this time I thought you were just jerking me around as some kind of punishment. I never dreamed you were harboring some pathetic idea that I might actually drop the divorce proceedings. That’s just sad.”

His face reddened. “No one in my family has ever gotten a divorce. Yours, either. I won’t be the first.”

Nothing about love or their relationship—just his pride, his image. “Well, if you wanted to be married, you should have been a better husband.”

“I’ve been patient, but I’m not going to let you hide down here forever.”

“
Let
me?” Unable to hold it back, she laughed. “You don’t get a vote.”

Mark’s face darkened when she laughed, and he took a step toward her. She refused to back up, widening her stance instead and dropping into the “ready” position they’d taught her in self-defense classes. “Seriously, I will drop you like the sack of shit you are. Last warning. You will not touch me ever again.”

He was clearly shocked and a little unbelieving, but he wasn’t brave enough to push her, either. “You’re being unreasonable.”

“I’m being honest.
You’re
being a sore loser. Go home, Mark. Have your lawyer call my lawyer and end
this.” Turning on her heel, she wrenched open the door to Latte Dah. Mark made as if to follow her. “Oh, no you don’t. This is
my
place of business.
You
are banned from the premises. Set one foot inside, and I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.” With that, she slammed the door in his face.

It was a buoying feeling, standing up to him, a thrill she’d never felt before. But knowing all those people who’d witnessed her humiliation were probably still out there, waiting for an explanation or something, deflated her pretty quickly. She sagged against the door and rubbed her hands over her face.

She had no idea how she was going to face all those people. How she’d face Tate. Well, Mark had been right about one thing: it was time to face the music.

Just not right this second.

Jane found her there a few minutes later. “Are you okay?”

“As much as I can be.”

“Is he really your husband?” she asked carefully.

There was no denying it. The damage was done and everyone in town would know soon enough thanks to Mark’s impeccable timing. What had she done to deserve such a karmic backlash? “Yes, much to my everlasting shame.”

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“I don’t want to be. And I’d kind of hoped the divorce would be finalized before anyone ever knew I had been.” She could tell Jane didn’t quite know what to think, much less say. While not proven a flat-out liar, she’d at least been proven as someone dishonest with secrets to hide.

And while this might be the twenty-first century, adultery was still definitely frowned on, and
oh dear God
, she’d been outed in front of the Grace Baptist Bible study group and the historical society—none of
whom would likely shrug this off without some suitable condemnation.

She wanted to crawl in a hole and cry.

Jane patted her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me mind the shop this afternoon. I’ll call in Sam or one of the other girls to help. You go home, clear your head . . .”

The words
and figure out what you’re going to do
hung in the air unsaid but understood.

Chapter 14