Hannah raced to the window in time to see Riley pull away. Tears streaked her face and she brushed them aside with the heel of her hand, feeling wretched. From the first, she'd meant to tell her husband about Jerry, but never like this. Never like this.
He'd made her so angry suggesting she was jealous over Judy. The very idea was ludicrous. Good heavens, she'd never even met the woman. Riley had infuriated her and she'd reacted in spite, knowing he'd eventually notice Jerry's picture. Once he did, she'd reasoned, then he would realize she couldn't possibly care one way or the other about his former lady friends.
What was important to her was the sanctity of their marriage. They'd spoken vows before God and man, and the promises they'd made to each other were meant to be taken seriously. The circumstances surrounding their wedding weren't ideal – Hannah would be the first one to admit as much – but they'd agreed to make an effort to do whatever they could to ensure this marriage worked. If they were to have any chance of that, a fundamental trust had to be implanted early in their relationship. It was for that reason alone that Hannah had brought up the subject of fidelity. Certainly not because she cared one whit about Riley's on-again/off-again relationship with the mysterious Judy.
A deep, painful breath tore through her chest. The stone-cold way in which Riley had glared at her stabbed at her heart. She knew her confession had wounded him deeply.
Her husband wasn't a man who often betrayed his feelings. A hundred times in the past week she'd attempted to read him, tried again and again to understand this man with whom she'd vowed to spend the rest of her life. She'd found the task nearly impossible. He was often quiet, more often withdrawn. Other than to order her about, he'd rarely spoken to her.
Every once in a while she'd find him studying her, but when their eyes would meet, gauging his thoughts had been impossible. That wasn't the case when he'd found Jerry's picture, however. Riley had been murderous. His eyes, his features, everything about him had spelled out his fury. And his pain. Hannah would give anything she owned to have kept Jerry's picture safely tucked away in a drawer.
The sardonic way in which Riley had glared at her clawed at her tender heart. Hannah wanted Riley to know about Jerry, but it had never been her intention to hurt him.
Then again, maybe it had.
He was so unreasonable. So demanding. First he'd taunted her about another woman and then he'd infuriated her. In her anger she'd struck back at him, but she hadn't meant to hurt him. Never that.
She reached behind her and tugged free the scarf that tied the hair away from her face. Regret ebbed over her.
As soon as Riley returned, she'd apologize. She owed him that much