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Authors: Claire Ashgrove
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where she stripped out of her clothes. Red splotches on her inner thighs from his hipbones marked flesh that would inevitably bruise in the next few hours. Not what she wanted denim rubbing against. Instead, she tugged on a pair of heavy cotton workout pants and pulled a hooded sweatshirt over her head.
She’d leave him to his solitude—time to tackle that Christmas list she’d put off for far too long. With two shopping days left, she couldn’t piddle around any longer and hope to find a decent selection in the stores.
Grabbing her purse off the chair near the door, she tossed it over her shoulder and bounded down the stairs. At the front door, she called out, “I’m going to the mall.”
Silence answered.
Aimee shrugged. Let him lock himself away physically. He would have to confront her eventually.
She pulled open the front door to discover big fat snowflakes falling from the sky. A thin layer of white blanketed the tips of the surrounding trees, and a hush had descended on the sparse woods. Grey skies overhead promised significant snowfall. She smiled. From the looks of things, they’d have a white Christmas after all.
A twinge of melancholy settled around her shoulders. Christmas had always been their favorite holiday. Kyle brought home a tree if he was home. They decorated together, she hanging all the ornaments save for the star, which Kyle placed seconds before they turned the tree on. Without fail, they finished at nightfall, and while she poured them both a glass of wine, he lit the fire.
When he wasn’t home, she put up the fake one. She left the star off and didn’t light the tree until he came back and they could complete the tradition together. Had he noticed the spindly pine still lacked its topper? For that matter, had he noticed the layer of dust that had accumulated since last December?
Probably not. He was too busy wallowing to observe little things like that. Even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t say anything—mentioning the missing star would open the door to discussing why he filed for divorce a month later. It would mean explaining why he told everyone but her and Conner that when he deployed three months earlier, he didn’t intend on returning. Maybe he’d legitimately changed his mind, but when he left, he was every bit as in love with her as she was him.
She let herself into Kyle’s four-wheel drive Jeep, backed out of their driveway, and headed down the narrow road that wound through the woods. As she drove, she took in the tall pines and trekked through memories of the first Christmas they’d spent in this secluded house. Newly wed, they’d been snowed in with her mother, forcing them to entertain for a week when all they really wanted to do was break in every corner of their new home. At times, the disaster became almost comical—her mother trying to ignore the fact they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, the way they disappeared a little too long to do some chore easily accomplished solo. No three people had ever been more glad to part ways when the road crews finally made it down the back roads, giving her mother the opportunity to return home.
With an amused shake of her head, Aimee chuckled. That had seemed like a tedious holiday. This one, however, put their first year to shame. If only she could solve things with a snowplow this Christmas.
She nosed out onto the main route and turned toward the mall. No plow would uncover the man she had married six years ago, and all the salt in the county sheds wouldn’t de-ice Kyle either. She couldn’t repair her failed marriage with sex alone. The key to unlocking Kyle was to get him talking, and to accomplish that, she needed answers. Catch-22.
Unless…
Aimee flipped a u-turn at the wide intersection. She’d seen the photos, knew where to start. State secrets be damned, she didn’t need to know details. A general idea would help, and there was one person she hadn’t tried to pry information out of.
She glided
She’d leave him to his solitude—time to tackle that Christmas list she’d put off for far too long. With two shopping days left, she couldn’t piddle around any longer and hope to find a decent selection in the stores.
Grabbing her purse off the chair near the door, she tossed it over her shoulder and bounded down the stairs. At the front door, she called out, “I’m going to the mall.”
Silence answered.
Aimee shrugged. Let him lock himself away physically. He would have to confront her eventually.
She pulled open the front door to discover big fat snowflakes falling from the sky. A thin layer of white blanketed the tips of the surrounding trees, and a hush had descended on the sparse woods. Grey skies overhead promised significant snowfall. She smiled. From the looks of things, they’d have a white Christmas after all.
A twinge of melancholy settled around her shoulders. Christmas had always been their favorite holiday. Kyle brought home a tree if he was home. They decorated together, she hanging all the ornaments save for the star, which Kyle placed seconds before they turned the tree on. Without fail, they finished at nightfall, and while she poured them both a glass of wine, he lit the fire.
When he wasn’t home, she put up the fake one. She left the star off and didn’t light the tree until he came back and they could complete the tradition together. Had he noticed the spindly pine still lacked its topper? For that matter, had he noticed the layer of dust that had accumulated since last December?
Probably not. He was too busy wallowing to observe little things like that. Even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t say anything—mentioning the missing star would open the door to discussing why he filed for divorce a month later. It would mean explaining why he told everyone but her and Conner that when he deployed three months earlier, he didn’t intend on returning. Maybe he’d legitimately changed his mind, but when he left, he was every bit as in love with her as she was him.
She let herself into Kyle’s four-wheel drive Jeep, backed out of their driveway, and headed down the narrow road that wound through the woods. As she drove, she took in the tall pines and trekked through memories of the first Christmas they’d spent in this secluded house. Newly wed, they’d been snowed in with her mother, forcing them to entertain for a week when all they really wanted to do was break in every corner of their new home. At times, the disaster became almost comical—her mother trying to ignore the fact they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, the way they disappeared a little too long to do some chore easily accomplished solo. No three people had ever been more glad to part ways when the road crews finally made it down the back roads, giving her mother the opportunity to return home.
With an amused shake of her head, Aimee chuckled. That had seemed like a tedious holiday. This one, however, put their first year to shame. If only she could solve things with a snowplow this Christmas.
She nosed out onto the main route and turned toward the mall. No plow would uncover the man she had married six years ago, and all the salt in the county sheds wouldn’t de-ice Kyle either. She couldn’t repair her failed marriage with sex alone. The key to unlocking Kyle was to get him talking, and to accomplish that, she needed answers. Catch-22.
Unless…
Aimee flipped a u-turn at the wide intersection. She’d seen the photos, knew where to start. State secrets be damned, she didn’t need to know details. A general idea would help, and there was one person she hadn’t tried to pry information out of.
She glided
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