shadow in her gaze sank his hopeful heart. His answer regarding her forgiveness shone in her eyes. It wasn’t what he’d hoped.
“How is Jennifer?” she asked.
He deserved that. “Fine. We’re getting a divorce.”
“Divorce?”
“We’re getting a divorce,” he repeated. The words were still foreign to his tongue.
Brown eyes studied him, and he felt them judge the weight of his statement. “I’m sorry. I hope Eden is doing well.”
“She’s doing great. She’s in her first year at the University of Washington.”
A small smile touched Victoria’s lips. “I can’t believe she’s that old. Seems like just yesterday…” Her words trailed off, and the smile vanished.
Seth knew what she meant. Seemed like just yesterday his daughter was a toddler, and everything between him and Tori had been swept out from under them. All the dreams and hopes that blossom at the beginning of a fresh relationship. That excitement of something new, something with big potential. Gone in a moment. Taken away without notice.
“Good luck with the job,” she said again. This time she pushed by.
He watched her move down the hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence, lengthening the distance between them. For the briefest moment, he’d felt their old comfortableness surround them. At one time they’d been close. Close enough to start tentatively mapping out a life together. With one sentence, he’d shredded their plans.
He sighed and headed to the autopsy suites. Dr. Campbell had said he’d be starting this morning with the teenage girls. Seth wanted to watch the man in action and give a hand if needed. Parents would want answers soon. If Eden was missing, he’d be tearing down the ME’s door.
He tried to put the encounter with Tori out of his mind, but her face invaded every thought. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire. He hadn’t known that the sight of her would open an avalanche of emotion and memories, knocking him upside the head.
Was it too late to repair the thread he’d severed years ago?
Eighteen years ago
Victoria’s anatomy textbook took up half of the table. Her notes took up the other half. She’d spilled coffee on her notes. It hadn’t been her fault. A jock had jostled her elbow as he’d pushed by her little table in the crowded coffee shop. She’d recognized him as aStanford football player. A rowdy group of students had invaded the little store, raising the decibel level several points. The shop was always loud, but she found it easy to study. Somehow tuning out the noise helped her stay focused.
She concentrated on the drawing of the distal end of the femur in her text, committing to memory the differences of the anterior view from the posterior. She wanted to hold one in her hands and feel the actual ridges. She’d slip into the classroom early tomorrow. A traditional wired-together plastic skeleton stood in the corner of the room. Since they’d started the skeletal system, she sat as close as possible to the grinning form, eyeing the bones as the professor lectured. She couldn’t dawdle after class because she immediately had a chemistry class. But going in early was a good option.
She loved college. She loved the independence and the ability to immerse herself in what she found important. High school had so much extracurricular crap that simply didn’t matter. What good would pep rallies do for her career? Or student council? They weren’t going to get her into medical school. Books and her own determination would.
Her adoptive parents had been very nurturing. They valued education and hard work. They’d brought her up in a structured one-child household, teaching her self-discipline and manners.
What if she hadn’t ended up with them? What if she’d ended
—
A tall male pulled out a chair from her table and sat directly across from her. She stared into intense blue eyes and lost her concentration.
Seth Rutledge was sitting at her table.
She tightened her grip on
Mark Edwards, Louise Voss