GINA WILKINS - His Best Friend's Wife

“Sorry,” he said, setting the cookies on the counter.

She moved to pass him, but he didn’t immediately step out of the way, bringing them even closer together.

His gaze held hers when he reached up unexpectedly to brush the ends of her angled bob, his fingertips just brushing her cheek. “Your hair is different,” he murmured. “Shorter and darker.”

Self-conscious, she shrugged. “I stopped bleaching it. And it’s easier to wear it shorter with my busy schedule now.”

“It looks good.”

Uncertain how to take the compliment, she said merely, “Thank you.”

He continued to search her face, as if noting every slight difference. “More than just your hair has changed.”

“That’s hardly surprising,” she answered with forced lightness. “I was just a kid when we met, now I’m a thirty-year-old mother of school-age twins. Of course I’ve changed.”

“You were a pretty girl,” he replied. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

Her eyes closed for just a moment, her cheeks going warm. His simple statement had rocked her to her toes.

“That’s one thing that hasn’t changed about you, ” she said, her voice sounding a bit strangled to her own ears. “I still don’t know how to respond to some of the things you say.”

“It was just an observation,” he said, and moved out of her path.

She gathered her things quickly. “I should go. I’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll try not to make you uncomfortable with uninvited accolades.”

Though the words could be interpreted as somewhat defensive, he didn’t seem to be annoyed. She looked at him from beneath her lashes and saw that his mouth was tilted with a very faint smile. Which made her feel a little foolish for overreacting to what he had apparently considered a simple compliment.

What was it about Evan that made her so often feel like such a fool around him?

She moved toward the door. “Next week,” she repeated, vowing she would have herself firmly under control by then.

“Renae?” His voice stopped her just as she reached for the doorknob.

“Yes?” she asked without turning around.

“I miss him, too.”

Once again, he had floored her with a few simple words. Unable to respond, she merely nodded and opened the door, stepping through it and closing it quickly behind her.

Sitting in her car a few minutes later, she gripped the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead against her hands, remembering Evan’s words. His tone had been sincere, and his voice had held an old pain she believed was genuine. Whatever still simmered between her and Evan, Evan did miss his friend.

She reminded herself that their one impetuous kiss hadn’t exactly been a betrayal of Jason, especially since they’d walked away quickly and had never allowed themselves to be alone together again after that. It hadn’t been long afterward, in fact, that Evan had joined the army, saying he wanted to make a contribution to the war against terrorism that had been raging so furiously then. He’d been home on leave the weekend Jason died.

Even knowing they’d done nothing wrong, she still struggled with old guilt Evan probably couldn’t understand. Guilt because she and Jason had parted with an uneasy truce after a quarrel. And guilt because, even though she had been a good wife to Jason and had loved him very much, she’d never been quite sure what she would have done had Evan answered differently when she’d asked him to give her a reason not to marry Jason.

Thursday evening, Renae sat in an uncomfortable, straight-backed chair in the school auditorium, watching Leslie and Daniel take their bows on stage along with the other first graders who had participated in the program at this month’s PTA meeting. Along with the other audience members, Renae clapped heartily, laughing wryly when irrepressible Daniel pumped a fist in satisfaction that the performance was over.

“They did so well,” Lucy said, beaming with pride. “I think they were the stars of the show.”

Because neither of the twins had been featured singers in the medley of children’s tunes the classes had performed, Renae merely smiled.

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