“I need more than that,” she said miserably. It was the promise of their future, the promise of learning about love together, that had intrigued her.

Zach frowned. “You told me even before we were married that you didn’t need romantic words. You were content before I mentioned Marie. Why should my telling you change anything?”

She saw that Zach was losing his patience with her. She stared down at the thick carpet. “I really wish I could explain, but it does make a difference. I’m sorry, Zach, I really am.”

A lifetime seemed to pass before he spoke again. “So am I,” he whispered before turning away. A moment later the front door opened and almost immediately closed again. Zach had left.

“What did you expect?” she wailed, covering her face with both hands. “Did you think he was going to fall at your knees and declare his undying love?” The picture of the proud and mighty Zach Thomas playing the role of besotted husband was actually comical. If he’d done that for any woman, it would’ve been the brave and beautiful Marie. Not Janine.

* * *

After that disastrous morning, their relationship grew more strained than ever. Zach went to work early every day and returned late, usually past dinnertime. Janine never questioned where he was or who he was with, although she had to bite her tongue to keep from asking.

Zach proved to be a model housemate, if not a husband—cordial, courteous and remote. For her part, she threw herself into her volunteer work at the Friendship Club, spending hours each week with the children. She did her best to hide her unhappiness from her grandfather, although that was difficult.

“You look pale,” he told her when she joined him for lunch one afternoon, several days after her return from Ocean Shores. “Are you losing weight?”

“I wish,” she said, attempting to make a joke of it. They sat in the dining room, with Mrs. McCormick wandering in and out, casting Janine concerned glances. Janine resisted the urge to leap up and do aerobic exercises to demonstrate that she was in perfect health.

“You can’t afford to get much thinner,” Gramps said, eyeing her solemnly. He placed a dinner roll on the side of her plate and plunked the butter dish down in front of her.

“I’m not losing weight,” she told him, spreading butter on the roll in order to please him.

“I took that sea gull you gave me into the office,” Gramps said as he continued to study her. “Zach asked me where I got it. When I told him, he didn’t say anything, but I could tell he wasn’t pleased. Do you want it back?”

“No, of course not.” Janine dropped her gaze. She’d never intended for Gramps to take Chester into the office. On impulse, she’d given him the ceramic bird, reluctant to have it around the condominium to remind her of those first glorious days with Zach.

“I wish I knew what was wrong with you two,” Gramps blurted out in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. He tossed his napkin onto his dinner plate. “You should be happy! Instead, the pair of you look like you’re recovering from a bad bout of flu. Zach’s working so many hours it’s a wonder he doesn’t fall over from sheer exhaustion.”