She smiled back. “Rub it in. I had a nightmare of a political story to follow. I spent so much time on it that I’m thinking I may run for public office myself. By now, I know exactly what not to do to get elected,” she confided with a chuckle.

“I know what you mean. It was a good story.”

“Thanks.”

“See you next week.”

“I hope.” She crossed her fingers. He just smiled.

She walked to her car and clicked the smart key to unlock it when she felt, rather than saw, someone behind her.

She turned and her heart stopped in her chest. She looked up into liquid black eyes in a tanned, hard face that looked as if it had never known a smile.

She swallowed. She wanted to say so many things. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to cry. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him to hold her, comfort her, forgive her. But she did none of those things. She just looked up at him hopelessly, with dead eyes that looked as if they had never held joy.

His square chin lifted. His eyes narrowed on her face. “You’ve lost weight.”

She shrugged. “One of the better consequences of my profession,” she said quietly. “How are you, Gabriel?”

“I’ve been better.”

She searched his eyes. “How’s Sara?”

“Getting back to normal.”

She nodded. She swallowed again and dropped her eyes to his chest. It was hard to find something to say that didn’t involve apologies or explanations or pleas for forgiveness.

The silence went on for so long that she could hear pieces of conversation from other churchgoers. She could hear the traffic on the highway, the sound of children playing in some yard nearby. She could hear the sound of her own heartbeat.

This was destroying her. She clicked the key fob again deliberately. “I have to go,” she said softly.

“Sure.”

He moved back so that she could open the door and get inside. She glanced at him with sorrow in her face, but she averted her eyes so that it didn’t embarrass him. She didn’t want him to feel guilty. She was the one who should feel that emotion. In the end she couldn’t meet his eyes or even wave. She just started the car and drove away.

Well, at least the first meeting was over with, she told herself later. It hadn’t been quite as bad as she’d expected. But it had been rough. She felt like crying, but her eyes were dry. Some pain was too deep to be eased by tears, she thought sadly.

She changed into jeans and a red T-shirt and went out on the front porch to water her flowers while a TV dinner microwaved itself to perfection in the kitchen.