What had she been thinking last night? As if life needed to get more complicated.

She’d been thinking with her heart, that’s what. The way he’d touched her, like she was the most precious object in the world. Even now, she shivered in remembrance. She’d never felt so cherished, so . . .

Loved.

Lucas doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even want you.

But it hadn’t felt that way. Hadn’t felt that way when she’d awakened and caught him watching her.

Stop it, Kate. She needed to think with her head, not her heart. She needed to be smart. Listen to her own advice.

Forcing herself to move, Kate got up and showered, dressing in her favorite jeans and her royal blue shirt. It was Sunday, but she couldn’t face everyone at church. She wondered if Lucas’s family would welcome her to their family meal. Maybe she shouldn’t go. But she had to face them eventually, even if only to apologize.

As she poured her coffee, she heard a car pull into the driveway. Her nerves immediately clanged, like the wind chimes on the back porch on a windy day. She didn’t know what to say to Lucas yet.

Maybe a walk on the beach would clear her head. Through the kitchen window she saw the weather had calmed. It was no longer storming, just overcast and gloomy. The ocean was gray and choppy, its waves striking the shore with white foam fingers.

One thing she knew: she had to escape the island. There was no reason to prolong the marriage, and staying was too difficult emotionally. Obviously her feelings for Lucas had grown into something beyond her control. If only we weren’t so different. If only we weren’t completely incompatible, we could make it.

Her heart ached for the chance to try.

But the memories of her parents’ arguments, their vicious battles over every little thing, stopped her, even if her experience as a counselor didn’t. She wasn’t going to waste her life forcing a round peg into a square hole. She’d watched too many people try and fail. She’d watched her parents try and fail. That wasn’t the life she wished on anyone.

A knock sounded at the front door.

Kate set down her mug and walked into the living room, peering through the window in the door. She prayed it wasn’t another reporter coming to get the scoop on her private—

No.

Through the glass, the top of a head was visible, but she would’ve recognized that neatly clipped brown hair anywhere. She paused, gathering her thoughts a moment before she pulled open the door.

“Bryan.” She hadn’t seen him since the eve of their wedding day. He looked older. Tired. Wrinkles and creases covered his dress shirt and slacks, like he’d slept in them. “What are you doing here?”