CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Grace
“My life is over,” Charles says, hobbling around like a caged animal. I visit him that evening, despite the fact that all I want to do is climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.
“You and Darcy,” I say. It’s not a question, and yet it is. “How could you?”
“It was a mistake.”
“A mistake? Well, that’s comforting.”
“What?” he sighs. “What do you want me to say?”
“I’m not going to put words in your mouth,” I tell him. “I’m just a little disappointed that’s the best you can do.”
“It just happened, Grace.”
“Nothing just happens.”
I spent a large part of the afternoon and the entire drive here trying to figure out how I could have missed it when it was right in front of my face. Darcy mentioned her husband rarely. I was under the impression the two of the
