There was a click as the deadbolt disengaged and then he was staring at a very disheveled—and dirty?—Lydia. His anger was temporarily forgotten as he gawked at the normally immaculate woman before him. This was certainly a new side to her. He’d heard of letting your hair down or vegging out as forms of relaxation, but this look took that to a whole new level. He found himself shifting uncomfortably on his feet as she stood there staring up at him. Stop gawking and say something! “Er . . . I was worried about you when you didn’t come home.” God, I hope that’s just mud on the front of her dress.

   Snorting, she turned around and walked off but left the door open in her wake. After all these weeks together, I find out she’s insane? Jacob warily closed the door and followed behind her. It felt a bit like venturing into a rabbit hole, but he bravely soldiered on. When they reached her bedroom, she flipped on a light and he was disturbed to see that the dirt on her clothing also extended to her bed. By this point, he was beginning to have crazy thoughts that possibly his sweet wife was an ax murderer on the side. He was so intent on piecing together the puzzle that she presented that he almost missed her angry words. “You didn’t look as if you were too concerned earlier with Chris glued to your side.”

   Come again?

   Confused, he asked, “What are you talking about? I’ve been trying to figure out where you could possibly be for the last hour.”

   Pointing to the bedside clock, Lydia snapped, “Exactly! You didn’t even notice that I was almost two hours late getting home, Jake. Didn’t you think it would maybe take something major for me to miss our date? But when I get home, there you are with Chris looking as if you had no clue I even exist.”

   “Wait a minute,” Jacob grappled to catch up. “You’re saying you did come home, but you what—left when you saw that Chris and Casey were there?”

   She put her hands on her hips looking equal parts irate and—hurt? He’d been so focused on her bizarre appearance that he’d almost missed that. In all honesty, he couldn’t remember Chris being unusually close to him tonight. He’d recognized that she was more pleasant than usual, but like any guy, he just thanked his lucky stars when a normally bitchy woman was actually passably friendly. Hell, she could have probably humped his leg in the kitchen and he wouldn’t have noticed. Chris simply wasn’t on his radar in that way any longer.

   Then the absolute worst thing for a man to face began to happen and he looked on helplessly as big tears rolled down Lydia’s dirty cheeks. “I missed his birthday, and I never realized until his mother told me. Then I rushed there to be with him and to say I was sorry. I was so upset that I lost track of time. I needed you to hold me. But when I got home, I saw Chris’s car. Then she was plastered all over you and you both looked so happy laughing at your daughter. I was the miserable outsider, and I couldn’t take that. I was so mad at you when I left for not caring enough to wonder where I was. You didn’t call to check on me when I was late. You didn’t miss me at all. Now, standing here, I realize how stupid that all sounds because I’m just your rent-a-wife,” she sobbed.

   Fuck me, Jacob thought dazedly. First of all, he could barely make sense out of her statements. She’d talked so fast that the sentences had run together. Whose birthday did she miss? Rent-a-wife? Shit! A conversation like this was unchartered territory for him. He’d pretty much avoided and made a mess out of the relationship talk just twenty-four hours earlier. Now, his wife stood before him obviously needing some type of reassurance and an explanation as to why he’d made a fucking mess out of their first date night. And he hadn’t a clue as to what to say or how to defend himself. Plus, he was still seriously lost on the first part of her explanation. With a sigh, he decided to do the same thing he would do for Casey when she started crying. He stepped forward and put his arm around her shaking shoulders before ushering her toward what he hoped was her bathroom and not the closet. “Shhh, let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” he murmured against the top of her head. Yep, definitely a twig in there, he thought as something poked his lips.

   He closed the lid on the toilet seat and motioned for her to sit there while he looked through a nearby cabinet until he found a washcloth. He watched her in the mirror above the sink while he ran enough water to thoroughly saturate the cloth. Then he returned to where she was waiting and dropped to a knee in front of her. She seemed riveted by his movements as he carefully cleaned first her face and then the slim line of her neck. She’d stopped crying by this point and now just looked drained. “Thank you,” she whispered huskily as he made one last careful pass over her cheeks before tossing the rag in what he thought was her laundry basket.

   Now to tackle the clothing. Where has she been? Even as he wondered, he didn’t want to voice the question now that she’d stopped crying. She still appeared entirely too vulnerable, and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Instead, he pulled her gently to her feet and located the zipper on the back of her dress. She offered no resistance as he removed her soiled clothing until she stood before him in nothing but a pair of tiny blue bikini panties and a matching bra. He grabbed another cloth and made quick work of giving her a sponge bath before wrapping her in a towel. She snuggled into his chest as he pulled her against him. “There, all better,” he whispered. At that point, he knew he had two choices. Put her in his truck and take her home or change her bedding and stay here for the night. She was as docile as a child now, and he knew she would do whatever he wanted without argument. One thing was certain, though—he damn sure wasn’t leaving her. In the end, she pointed out the location of her clean sheets and he remade the bed before stripping his clothes off and following her under the now clean linens. He took a second to grab his phone from where he’d left it on the bedside table and sent a quick text to Mark letting him know that he’d found Lydia and would talk to him tomorrow. He then moved closer to her and they settled in the center of the bed on their sides with him spooning her from behind—a position they normally slept in most nights now.

   Jacob knew by the yawns that she was close to going to sleep and he’d already decided that they could talk about whatever the hell had happened tomorrow. So he was surprised to hear her speak in a voice that sounded close to alert. “I forgot Brett’s birthday. Since he died, his mother and I have gone to visit his grave on that day. Only this year, I didn’t call her to make the arrangements or even acknowledge it because it completely slipped my mind. She was waiting when I left the office this afternoon. She was worried that something had happened to me.”