that you’d marry him? You know you
can’t
love him. So you’re marrying him for his money, and that makes you no better than a whore!”
Stung, Lexi shot back, “You should know. You’re sleeping with the town slut. Jesse can’t keep his trousers zipped, plus oh, right, he’s really going to be able to support you with his awesome band that never quite gets formed.”
“This isn’t about Jesse,” Clare said between clenched teeth. “It’s about you marrying Ed Hardin. He’s just an immoral, greedy, saga-sized
turd
!”
Lexi retorted, “And you’re just a provincial little peasant whose ambitions end at Jesse Gray’s ass!”
Clare bit her cheek to stop the tears. She took a deep breath and struggled for dignity. “Well, I’m so glad you invited me out here to our
special
place to have this conversation,” she said sardonically. Slapping bushes out of her way, she stormed along the path to her car.
Lexi held herself tightly for a long moment, then sank onto the sand and wept. Her parents were having financial troubles, her best friend hated her, she was alone—she was lost. You can only take what life offers you, Lexi thought. Clare wanted Jesse. Ed Hardin wanted her. She would marry him.
FIVE
2006
C lare leaned against the bathroom door, watching Jesse shave. “Honestly, Jesse, I don’t want to do this.”
“Come on, babe. It’s disrespectful if you don’t show up.” Jesse made a face as he scraped the delicate skin between his mouth and nose.
Tony Kostner’s fishing boat had gone down in a storm on Georges Bank a week ago and Clare was trying to decide whether she was obligated to attend Tony’s memorial service. “Well, I never did
respect
Anthony,” Clare reminded him. “He was a drunk and an arrogant, bad-tempered lout.”
Jesse dipped his face toward the basin, splashing it with cold water. Grabbing a towel, he rubbed his face dry. “We went to school with him, Clare.” He scowled at her. “Anyway, this isn’t just about Tony. It’s about Georgeann.”
The name opened between them like a black bog, indistinct and dangerous. One step into it and they’d be mired, thrashing around through their past in a frantic attempt to get back to the surface, clear and free.
Jesse brushed past Clare, out of the bathroom. She closed her eyes and tried counting to ten. All of her life, every decision, every deed, seemed tied to her love for Jesse and his philandering.
For the past twelve years, Clare had based her whole life on the conviction that she and Jesse were meant for each other. It seemed right—until good-looking, easygoing, sweet-smiling Jesse once again confessed he’d sort of, kind of, had a
little
—oh, you couldn’t even call it a fling, he’d just made one more tiny, purely
meaningless
mistake—in the arms of yet another woman, in yet another woman’s bed. Laid-back Jesse, indeed.
Clare had broken off with Jesse every time. And sooner or later, the irresistible force that had drawn them together in high school brought them back together again.
At the end of last summer, when Clare’s mother, whom Jesse had adored, was dying, Jesse had proposed marriage to Clare. He’d sworn off other women once and for all. He wanted to get married, he wanted to have children with Clare, he was ready to settle down. Oh, and I can believe you this time
because
? Clare had retorted.
No, thanks.
She knew he was just trying to make her mother happy—that was one of the lovable things about Jesse, he was in his heart a truly sweet guy. Two months later, in front of her father, Jesse had proposed again. This time, she’d accepted.
She was sure Jesse hadn’t strayed since then. But the sight of one of Jesse’s former flings always stung, and Georgeann Kostner had been his last mistake. Jesse had been hired by the Kostners to renovate the space above their garage into a small rental apartment. Tony was always out fishing. Georgeann had brought mugs of hot coffee to Jesse, and
Heloise Belleau, Solace Ames