Tucker watched Sabrina skirt the tables and exit the room; then his gaze swung to his sister. Between Sabrina’s panic and Tracey’s—what? anger? hurt?—he didn’t know what to think.
“Was it something I said?” Oliver’s befuddled voice barely registered.
Tracey’s nostrils flared twice. She wrung the napkin until it split in two.
Dread clogged Tucker’s throat, but he squeezed the words out. “What is going on?”
Her gaze bounced off his. “Not here.”
Oliver watched them with interest and, across the room, Char cast a curious glance their way.
“Come on.” He stood, taking Tracey’s arm. He ushered her outside, through the drizzle and into his waiting car.
Tracey’s breaths came heavily, fogging up the windows. “It’s
her
.” She peered through the passenger window. “I can’t believe it’s her, of all people.”
The dread spread downward, a thick ball of trepidation. “Tell me,Trace,” he said, but suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He watched a raindrop trickle down the windshield, collecting others in its path, growing larger.
“The woman I found Sebastian with is your Sabrina, your
Sweetpea
.” She drilled him with a look.
No, it couldn’t be. She was mistaken. He shook his head, a firm denial.
“Did you know?” she asked, pricking him with darts of accusation.
“No, I didn’t know. I can’t believe you said that.”
“Well, I’m a little freaked right now!”
Freaked didn’t come close to what he felt. Tracey was wrong.
She had to be. Sabrina wasn’t the kind of person who would—“Look,” Tucker began, “calm down and let’s think this through.
It was probably dark that morning you found Sebastian. And it was over a year ago . . .”
“It was
her
. You think I can forget the face of the woman I found my husband in bed with? And she ran off, didn’t she? Clearly she recognized me.”
He needed a little healthy denial right now. He ran his hand over his face. This couldn’t be happening.
He thought he’d known Sabrina . . . Sweetpea. She’d never said anything that indicated she was capable of something like this. She’d mentioned mistakes in the past. But this—this went beyond anything he’d imagined.
Suddenly his words from a letter resurfaced. He’d told Sweetpea about Tracey finding Sebastian with another woman and eventually about the divorce. Tracey had been in anguish at the discovery of his affairs, and he’d felt so helpless. He’d vented with Sweetpea. He’d said harsh things, knowing she wouldn’t judge him for it.
The realization kicked in.
“That’s why.” His whispered words barely penetrated the patter of rain on the rooftop.
He’d been ruthless in his summation of the events, his feelings toward Sebastian and the woman Tracey had found her husband with—had he called her a whore?
Oh, God. That’s why she wouldn’t meet me, isn’t it? Why she wouldn’t
admit who she was. She knew what she’d done to my sister and pronounced
herself unforgivable
.
It was making sense. The refusal to meet, the photo she’d sent, the charade with Arielle. It all made sense when viewed in light of this new piece of information.
“I need to get out of here.” Tracey laid her head back, closing her eyes as if she wanted to forget the whole mess.
And he was right in the middle of it. “Maybe you should stay awhile. We could talk. We can get you on a later ferry.”
“I think I’ve had enough of Nantucket. No offense.”
Tucker squeezed her hand, then started the car and pulled onto the street heading toward the wharf. Why did this have to happen now, when Tracey had just recovered from Sebastian’s betrayal?
Betrayals, he noted the plural. The discovery of Sabrina and Sebastian was just the eye-opener that revealed his other affairs. But his sister didn’t need that reminder. He wasn’t pouring salt in the wound.
“I’m sorry, Trace.”
And what are you going to do now? How can you
choose between your sister and the woman you love?
He thought of Sabrina, no doubt panicked and devastated, and he felt torn.
But Sabrina knew. She knew what she’d done, who his sister was, and she’d let him fall for her, opened up to him and let him in.
When he reached the parking lot, his sister waved him off. “No, just drop me at the wharf. You need to get to work.”
“I can wait with you.”
“I need to be alone, Tucker.” She crossed her arms over her chest, avoiding his eyes, and he knew she felt he’d betrayed her somehow.
A defense rose on his lips, but he held his tongue. She knew he was innocent, but feelings could be deceiving sometimes. Time would sort it out. He only wished he could be there for her while she did the sorting.
When he pulled the car close to the terminal, he helped Tracey with her luggage. He didn’t want to leave, felt like he was dumping her at the curb. “Are you sure you don’t want company? I can call Dorothy and—”
“I’m sure.” Her eyes were bloodshot, but her shoulders were back, her head up.
He felt like a heel. Helpless, he put his arms around her and drew her into a hug. “I’m sorry, honey.”
She stood stiffly for a few seconds, then embraced him, her face turned into his T-shirt. “It’s not your fault. I know that. I just need some time to work through this.”
Forgiving Sabrina seemed impossible, but he knew Tracey was capable of the impossible. If she could prove the doctors wrong and learn to walk again, she could forgive Sabrina someday.
He kissed the top of her head. “You got it.” He hated the timing, hated that she was returning to a big city where she hadn’t yet established close friends.
“Go on, now. I’ll be all right.” She straightened and grabbed her luggage.
It was only as he was pulling away from the terminal that he realized his relationship with Sabrina, everything he’d fought for, everything he desired, was now in jeopardy.
Sweetpea: Some mistakes can’t be undone.
Sabrina had to get out of there, off the island. She had to leave. What other choice did she have? She grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began jamming it with clothes, then realized she needed to call a cab.
Before she took two steps, she stopped. It was pouring rain. Every tourist in town would be calling for a cab, and she didn’t have an hour to wait for one. She’d have to ride her bike. Realizing the suitcase was too big to transport, she pulled a smaller one from the closet and dumped the contents into it. Her hands shook. Her body trembled.
Pajamas, socks, toothbrush . . . What else? She pulled the rubber band and ran her hand through her hair. She couldn’t think.
Tucker.
Oh, God, the look on his face
. The confusion, the concern. And his sister. She didn’t even want to think about the accusation in those eyes. And Sabrina deserved all of it.
Toothpaste. Yes, she needed that and her vitamins. She was getting a pounding headache, the kind that required one of Arielle’s nasty tinctures.
A knock rattled the front door.
She sucked in a breath and stared at the white door like it might bust off the hinges and assault her.
But reality was worse, because Tucker could be on the other side of that door. Would he do that? Would he confront her with his sister’s accusations?
A sudden thought brought another wave of panic. What if his sister was with him? What if—
Another knock sounded, harder this time. She wouldn’t answer. The blinds were drawn; maybe they’d think no one was home. But her bike was out front.
Look through the peephole, Sabrina. Just check.
She made her feet move by force of will. She approached the door and leaned in, careful not to touch it. Maybe it wasn’t Tucker at all. It might be—
Renny. The sight of the woman’s face, distorted in the glass, brought an exhale that fogged the peephole. She caught her breath, then opened the door.
“I did it!” Renny spun in a circle, a one-woman party, her fluorescent orange Hawaiian shirt blooming at the waistline. “Wahooo!” She waved her hands, oblivious to the rain trickling down her face.
“Did what?”
Renny singsonged her answer and accompanied it with a little jig. “I sent off my manuscripts, my manuscripts, my manuscripts . . .”
Sabrina allowed a tiny smile at her friend’s exuberance. “That’s wonderful, Renny.”
“I saw you ride up the drive and just had to come tell you. Can I come in? I have to celebrate, I feel so . . . free!” She spun her way past Sabrina. “Why’s it so dark in here?” she asked when she finally stopped.
Sabrina had forgotten to turn on the lights. She flipped the switch and shut the door.
“Why are you home so early?” Renny asked. “And what’s this? I didn’t know you were going somewhere. Did you change your mind about your cousin’s wedding?”
Her suitcase sat open and full on the same sofa where Arielle’s had sat only three days before. So much had happened since then. Some of it good, and some of it bad. It was the bad part that was eating her lunch.
“Sabrina?”
“I’m fine. I’m just . . . taking a trip.” And she was still shaking. With fear? Anxiety? Desperation? It was impossible to separate the emotions spiraling through her.
“What’s wrong,
amita
?” Renny had finally curbed her excitement enough to notice something was amiss. She laid her hand on Sabrina’s arm.
Sabrina didn’t have time for explanations. She had to leave before Tucker actually did come knocking on her door, possibly bringing his sister just for fun.
She grabbed her light sweater off the hook by the door and folded it hastily into a lump. “Nothing’s wrong. I decided to take a vacation.” A permanent one.
“Where to?”
She hadn’t gotten that far. Hadn’t thought beyond the ferry that would take her off the island. She could go home to Macon, but the thought of seeing her family . . .
She rejected the idea with unwavering certainty. She needed time to digest her feelings before she went home for the wedding.
“Something’s wrong, I can see it on your face.”
Sabrina shoved the sweater in the suitcase.
“You’re shaking, Sabrina. Sit down and talk to me.”
Sabrina didn’t argue as Renny led her to the chairs in the corner. Rain drizzled down the window behind Renny and pattered on the roof.
“Now, what is going on?”
“I have to leave for a while. Something happened this morning. That’s why I’m home early.”
“What happened?”
At the question, the scene at the café played in slow, horrifying motion. The memory was like a punch to the stomach. “It’s Tucker. He brought his sister to the café this morning to introduce her to me.”
Renny sucked in a breath. “The twin sister? The sister that—”
“Yes.” If only there were another.
“Maybe she didn’t recognize you.”
Sabrina gave a wry laugh. “Oh, she recognized me all right.”
“What did she say? Did she tell Tucker?”
“I didn’t stick around long enough for that special brother/sister moment.” Her sarcasm was alive and well. Good to know.
Why was she sitting here when every moment heightened the possibility of a confrontation with Tucker?
“I have to finish packing.” She jumped from the sofa and pulled her sandals from the floor.
“Wait, child. Where are you going? Let’s think this through.”
“There’s nothing to think about, Renny. I can’t stay here now that he knows. He’ll hate me.”
“Well, he might hate Sabrina, but he won’t hate Sweetpea.”
Sabrina set her shoes in the suitcase. That was true. It was something, at least. But she couldn’t face him every day at the café, knowing what she’d done and what he thought of her.
“You still have your email relationship.”
Thank God for that. It was salvaged at least. Maybe she should write him now. But no, that would slow her down. And she was supposed to be at work and he’d wonder why she was—
Another realization dawned. He was going to write tonight and tell her about his discovery. He would tell her exactly what he thought of Sabrina. She was going to hear every vicious thought running through his head—not that she didn’t deserve it.
But she couldn’t bear to know what he thought of her now.
“Or maybe . . .” Renny was massaging her scalp with all ten fingers. “Maybe you should tell him everything.”
Renny had missed the point. “He already knows everything.”
“Not
everything
.” Renny’s eyes were wide as she nodded her head slowly.
Sabrina sighed. “The only thing he doesn’t know is—no. No, I can’t tell him I’m Sweetpea.”
“Why not,
amita
? What’ve you got to lose?”
“Tucker.” Well, not Tucker, but Harbormaster. Sabrina shook her head. Such a mess. She grabbed a novel from the end table and stuffed it in the suitcase. Like she’d be able to read.