Mary’s grin faded instantly when she realized what he had found. “What are you doing with those?” she demanded, rushing over to the table. She hastily gathered the items and shoved them back into the box. Aidan said nothing, nor did he try to stop her.
When she went to close the lid, he extended his hand and opened his palm, revealing what he had been holding: two gold wedding bands and a tiny diamond engagement ring.
Mary snatched them from his palm and threw them in the box, closing the lid and securing it while moisture prickled behind her eyes.
Aidan watched her closely, his face unreadable. “You were married?” he said, his voice too neutral, too unaffected to be anything good.
“Obviously,” she snapped, mad at herself for crying. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying. Was it because Aidan discovered she’d been married? Because seeing all those things brought back memories of pain and anguish? Or because the look in Aidan’s eyes was as cold as she had ever seen? There was no trace of the attentive lover in him now.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was so empty, so devoid of emotion that it scared her.
“You didn’t ask.”
His face hardened, the expressionless mask making him look like some ancient statue of a Greek god. His body was still. Too still. Only his eyes moved as Mary stalked across the room, tossed the keepsake back into the cupboard and grabbed angrily at the box of tissues. Why wouldn’t the damn tears stop?
And what kind of man rummaged through her cabinets and took it upon himself to open something so obviously personal? She might have given herself to him in heart and body, but that didn’t give him the right to invade her privacy without permission.
“What happened?” he asked in that cold, emotionless voice.
“Does it matter?” she asked, her words somewhat muted by the tissues.
His eyes flashed once, then went cold again. “No.”
He got up and walked out of the kitchen. Mary sank down at the table and dropped her head into her hands. How had things gone downhill so quickly?
She took a deep breath. She had overreacted. Sure, it had been a shock to find Aidan looking through her things, but in a way, having him find out about Cam was kind of a relief, too. They’d have to have a talk about personal space and boundaries if they were going to continue to see each other, though.
She was still sitting there when he returned a few minutes later, fully dressed, and grabbed for his coat. “You’re leaving?” she asked, sniffling.
“Obviously.”
He walked over to the door that led to the garage. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. Without turning around, he said, “I’ll have someone drop your Jeep off later.”
And then he was gone, leaving her staring in disbelief.
––––––––
“Mary? This is Angela at Dr. Whitney’s office. The doctor would like you to come in for another mammogram.”
Mary gripped the receiver a little tighter. It was noon and she was still in her pajamas, having taken her first sick day in five years. She hadn’t left the house the last two days, except to take care of the most necessary of things. She’d hoped that after he had some time to cool-off, Aidan would come back and they could work through things, get everything out in the open.
“Why?”
A hesitant pause. “I really don’t know the specifics, only that she’d like you to come back in. I can squeeze you in at two. Can you get here by then?”
Cold dread dropped into the pit of her stomach. “That soon?”
“Yes. Dr. Whitney would like to see you today.”
“Uh, sure. Two o’clock, you said?”
“Yes. We’ll see you then.”
Mary continued to hold the phone until the annoying busy-tone signal managed to cut through her fog. What could possibly be so urgent? The women’s health center over in Pine Ridge was usually so busy, she had to schedule her exams a minimum of six months in advance. The fact that they were squeezing her in so quickly could not be a good sign.
Feeling rather numb, she forced herself to get up and grab a quick shower. Donning a comfortable pair of jeans and a hoodie, she slipped on her sneakers and climbed into her Jeep.
She wasn’t sure when it had been delivered or by whom, only that when she pulled herself out of bed on Sunday morning her Jeep had been sitting in her driveway, right in front of the garage. The keys had been left under the doormat on her front porch; there was no note or anything else left with them.
During the thirty minute drive, Mary tried to silence the persistent negative thoughts that kept going through her mind. Until she knew better, she wasn’t going to jump to any conclusions.
Maybe they just screwed up the films or something. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened. She’d been called back before because the radiologist wanted a clearer picture or a slightly different angle, but they usually took care of that kind of thing before she left.