Now Gloria understood. Yes, this was a facer.
She hadn’t seen Ian since he took off with the pregnant young Candace nine years ago. The sudden divorce had left her shattered. . . .
Time seemed to stand still ― then float in slow motion through the years ― early happiness, gradual disillusion, grief, reflection, and coming to terms with a final revelation about Ian. Somehow it had been true to form for him ― doing the wrong thing and trying to make it right with the next step ― usually to her detriment. Thoughtless, impulsive guilt-ridden man.
Sensitive to Janice’s silent anxiety, Gloria said, “I’m still here, just catching my breath. Hang on a second or two.”
No. She was resilient and strong ― had recovered. Now she relished her independent life; missed the companionship of course. She had loved him. Deeply and faithfully with a perverted kind of trust. Even through his waywardness she’d believed in the depth of his care for her. But, over sixty at the time, there’d been no contest with the pull of a blooming thirty-six year-old who hadn’t known there was a wife.
It was okay. She could deal with this.
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