Chapter 1

In the seventh year of my marriage to Evan White, his old flame, the one he never seemed to get over, walked back into our lives.

She was a well-known actress, standing on my front porch in the pouring rain, mascara running down her cheeks. "Evan, I had a terrible fight with him, and I've got nowhere else to go."

My husband, the most soft-spoken man I knew, hurled a coffee mug against the wall. "I'm going to give him a piece of my mind."

And my seven-year-old son dropped his action figures and bolted to the door. "Don't cry, lady. When I'm older, I'll marry you."

While they all tripped over themselves to comfort her, I stood stranded outside the grocery store, caught in the same storm, my calls not connecting.

A cab pulled up beside me. "Hey, lady, you need a lift?"

I looked down at the grocery bag in my hand, then at the two hundred dollars to my name, and asked, "How far can I get with two hundred bucks?"

"Two hundred? You could cross state lines with that," the driver said, twisting around to face me. "You headed to Greenfield?"

I nodded. To be honest, I couldn't have cared less where I ended up.

The driver gave me a quick glance, jeans and a sweater, a heavy tote in my hand, three cartons of ice cream visible at the top.

"If you're going all the way to Greenfield, one hundred's plenty. Any other bags? I can grab them for you," he said.

I cut him off. "No, this is it. Let's go."

The driver didn't pry. The moment I slid into the back seat, he started the engine and pulled away.

"It's a five-hour drive to Greenfield. Seatbelt on," he said.

I nodded and glanced down at the bag in my lap. The ice cream inside was so cold it seeped right through the paper, pressing an icy chill against my thigh that made me flinch.

Maybe this was a little impulsive.

Ever since last night, my son Lucas had been pestering me for ChocoNest chocolate ice cream.

Before I left the house today, my husband reminded me, "Lily wants some too. I'll have one with her, and you should have one with Lucas, so you won't be left out. Grab four boxes."

But when I rushed to the supermarket, the owner told me there were only three boxes left.

Three cartons for four people. There was no way to split them up without someone getting shortchanged. Maybe I should skip out and let them figure it out.

My stomach growled in protest. I pulled out the only ice cream I had left and scooped out a spoonful.

"Don't eat ice cream on an empty stomach. You forgot again, didn't you?" Evan's voice echoed in my head.

His face surfaced in my mind, looking down at me with that familiar, helpless sigh.

My hand trembled, and I almost dropped the ice cream.

Annoyed, I scooped up a big spoonful and stuffed it into my mouth.

"So, you running home after a fight with your husband?" the driver asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror, trying to make conversation.

Evan was always kind. In seven years of marriage, we behaved more like polite housemates than a real couple.

I shook my head. "It's not a fight. We're getting divorced."

The driver couldn't stop himself. "What happened? Is there someone else?"

I sat there, stunned. What did happen? I let myself actually think about it for the first time.

Was it because Evan acted as her personal bodyguard at the airport two weeks ago?

Or because Lucas gave her a handmade bracelet the other day?

Or maybe it was those three cartons of ice cream that made me feel so invisible today.

It was none of those.

I stared out the window at the darkness rushing past, and something clicked into place. "It was a bowl of spaghetti. This morning, it was so salty I couldn't swallow it. And I thought, what's the point of living like this?"

The driver looked surprised. "That's it?"

I nodded. "That's it."

*****

A week earlier, the doorbell rang on another rainy night. Lily Lynn stood there, soaked through, looking like a white rose beaten down by the storm.

"Evan, I truly have nowhere else to go," she said.

Evan was working the night shift at the hospital, running the ER nonstop.

With the awful weather, a steady stream of car accident victims kept arriving, and he was so swamped he hadn't touched the dinner I'd brought him.

When he'd found a free moment, he'd taken me to see a doctor because I'd been running a fever for three days straight.ht.

I was sitting next to him with an IV drip, and a nurse came in, teasing, "Oh, even with Dr. White around, his wife still gets sick?"

Evan was writing notes on my chart and gave a helpless smile. "Lucas was in a playful mood and dragged her outside to splash in puddles. She caught a chill."