Into the Sunshine: Of Love and Loss Series Book Two

20

Iris carried the bassinet inside when they arrived home. Everett handled the food. Since leaving the café, they hadn't spoken a word to each other. Or touched. Instead, they'd sat far enough apart that a third person could have sat between them.

If Everett thought the stark difference from their close, even intimate behavior over the past week was odd, he hadn't let Iris know with any outward sign.

Unlike when Daphne arrived.

Iris entered the twins' room and set the bassinet near the changing table, tears blurring her vision and rolling down her cheeks unheeded. She almost checked for infectious boils on her arms or poison oozing from her pores—anything other than the most conspicuous truth to explain his hurtful behavior. But she refrained, and her tears splattered her hands as she changed Bailey and Stephen's diapers.

Silently crying, Iris tucked the twins in for a nap, hoping they'd sleep for a while longer now that they were in their crib. She needed a little time to figure out how to proceed in her marriage.

Everett couldn't have made his unease with their marital relationship more evident with his inability to utter the word 'wife.' It hovered like another more destructive ghostly specter, demanding attention. The whirlwind pace of their union still had her reeling, trying to come to terms with the reality of being married once again.

But of the two of them, he clearly wasn't ready for her to take on the role of spouse. Not when Elyria still firmly held that precious title. The signs had all been there in several conversations they'd shared, screaming in her face. But she'd ignored every last one. And now she reaped the consequences of her impulsive decision.

Why hadn't she known fear and longing would drive her here sooner or later? Because you're a fool, her wounded and bitter inner voice answered. Experience had taught her marriage was an inevitable, perilous step after falling in love. And she'd willingly taken it again, plunging herself into a future fraught with heartbreak.

It was laughable, really, how she'd proven to be such an inattentive pupil to one of life's harshest lessons. And what was worse, acknowledging this fatal failing did nothing to quell her love for Everett—confirmation she was a glutton for punishment. Iris buried her face in her trembling hands and sobbed.

"One through four," Everett quietly said from the doorway, making Iris jump.

"How long have you been standing there?" She sniffled, angrily wiping the tears away with her wrists even though more replaced them.

Everett shook his head, his eyes filled with concern, anxiety, and several other emotions she didn't want to name. They'd make her talk. And she wasn't ready for that. "Long enough to know—"

"Two and three," she quietly blurted, her voice quivering with hurt, anger, and desperation.

Everett flinched as though she'd slapped him, and the vindictive, wounded part of Iris felt almost soothed at the sight. He swallowed, hesitating before hoarsely whispering, "Your lunch is on the table."

I don't want it, she was tempted to snap. Not when they'd intended it to be in celebration of their first full day of marriage—one he clearly regretted being a part of. Instead, she walked to the door, waited for him to step aside, and made a concerted effort not to allow her hand or any part of her body to brush against his when she passed.

"I'm going out front to plant the flowers," she said, stopping in the kitchen for an apron and tying it on over her dress. The one Everett had requested she wear because it made her eyes resemble sapphires.

Iris cringed, wishing she could go back in time and plug her ears with cotton. What a fool you are, she inwardly berated herself. A weak, unmitigated fool. She removed her wedding ring and placed it in a small bowl on the counter for safekeeping. Or so she told herself. After how today had gone, it'd likely never adorn her finger again. "I'll take my silence and solitude out there."