Free Love Letters: A Rose Harbor Novel by Debbie Macomber

the last few years. “I enjoy looking at old buttons.”
    “Buttons?”
    “Some of the older buttons from the 1960s and before are lovely. I especially like the pearl ones.”
    “When I was a kid I used to collect baseball cards,” Roy mentioned. “If I’d kept them, they’d probably be worth a fortune now.”
    He was right. “What became of them?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t remember. I traded off a few when I was twelve or thirteen and kept the rest in an old cigar box I got from my grandfather. I haven’t thought about them in years. I haven’t got a clue where they went.”
    As they walked down the hill, Roy reached for her hand, gripping it in his own. The simple gesture was like healing salve on a throbbing burn.
    Even now Maggie wasn’t sure how their marriage could have taken such a drastic detour when they continued to love each other. It had hit her all over again at lunch how far apart they’d grown. When Roy had suggested they leave the boys out of the conversation, she’d been shocked to realize they had nothing left to say to each other.
    Finally, Roy talked about the job that had demanded so much of his time. She noticed how careful he was to avoid the subject of Katherine. The other woman, a high school flame, held a job with one of his plumbing suppliers. That was how they’d connected on Facebook and become “friends” again. Maggie was convinced it’d all started out innocent enough, at least in the beginning.
    She stopped herself, refusing to dwell on Katherine. Roy had severed the relationship and she had to learn to trust him again in the same way that he had to put his trust back in her.
    Still, the entire time he talked about the construction project, Maggie felt a burning sensation close to her heart. Her husband hadn’t been unfaithful, at least not in the physical sense. But Katherine and Roy were emotionally involved, texting and communicating day after day, meeting for drinks and exchanging sexually explicit emails. It was when she found the emails that Maggie had blown up. The most painful one suggested Maggie was a cold fishin bed. Another was a cruel joke. How do you turn a fox into a cow? Marry her. Just thinking about the messages Maggie had read on his phone from the other woman was enough to fill her mouth with bile.
    She couldn’t allow her mind to dwell on all the lonely nights she’d gone to bed by herself because her husband was busy with paperwork or other business. He didn’t have time to talk to her, but he’d spent copious amounts of time flirting with another woman. It hadn’t gotten to the point of being physical, but it was clear to Maggie that that was exactly where the relationship was headed. Far too clear.
    “I’m enjoying quilting,” she’d told him at lunch. No doubt he found the subject of little interest, but he’d listened politely and suggested that for Christmas she might like a new sewing machine. She appreciated the offer and the fact that he felt their marriage would survive until the holidays.
    The bile didn’t settle well, and she had to deal with heartburn. The acid built up in her as they strolled down Harbor Street. “I need an antacid,” she said, and noticed a pharmacy located a block down on the corner. “It must have been the grease from the fish.”
    They walked to the end of the street and went inside together. While she searched the aisle for what she needed, Roy looked over the magazine rack where the novels were positioned and picked out a paperback thriller by one of his favorite authors.
    “I can’t remember the last time I got involved in a book,” he said. “The one I brought with me is months old, and I’ve forgotten the storyline.”
    Actually, she’d been thinking the same thing. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw him reading, or doing anything that didn’t involve his job. “That’s part of the problem, don’t you think?”
    He frowned, as if the comment confused him. “Not