Free All of My Love by Francis Ray

actually talking. That’s a big step for both of us.”
    He nodded and pulled on his gloves. “I guess we better get to work.”
    She motioned toward the sledgehammer in his hand. “Why didn’t you rent a machine to get the tile up?”
    His narrowed gaze swung from her to the floor. “I needed to vent.”
    “Be careful and don’t pull a muscle.” She lowered her glasses. “I’ll get the ladder and start sanding the cabinets since you’re already finished in that area.”
    “Maybe I should do that,” he said.
    Stella paused. “Why? I’ve done it before.”
    He hesitated. “That was a long time ago.”
    Since he seemed more concerned with her safety than hurting her, she smiled. “In case you’ve forgotten, we’re the same age, and when we worked on this house together, I never quit until you did.”
    His eyes intense, Paul leaned on the sledgehammer. “That’s why I didn’t understand. You never walked away from anything you started. I never expected you to walk away from me and the children.”
    Pain squeezed her heart. “I was a fool. I tried to trick you into wanting me and ended up losing you instead. I paid a heavy price for that lesson. I’m not walking away again—unless you ask me to.”
    He straightened and picked up the sledgehammer. “Be careful with that ladder.”
    *   *   *
     
    Paul wouldn’t have believed it, but he and Stella worked well together. They didn’t talk much, but like last night when they walked back to the hotel, there was no tension. He’d slowed down removing the tile to keep an eye on her while she was on the ladder sanding the top cabinet.
    After he moved on to other chores, he heard her humming a couple of times and remembered she liked to hum while doing chores. Her voice was as pitiful as his, but that hadn’t stopped them when they were young from dancing and singing to their heart’s content when they were dating, and then married.
    Paul paused from unscrewing the bolt from beneath the sink in the hall bath. His heart hadn’t been content in a long time.
    “Paul?”
    He spun around to see Stella in the doorway. She was frowning.
    He came to his feet. “What is it?”
    She bit her lower lip, a sign she was nervous. “If-if you take out the sink and commode in the hall bath, the only one left is in the other room.”
    His mouth tightened. The “other room” was their old bedroom. He didn’t plan on going in there until he absolutely had to. He’d forgotten because he’d wanted to keep busy so he wouldn’t keep thinking about her. Annoyed with himself, he knelt and began tightening up the bolt.
    “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for lunch,” she said.
    “I need to finish this first,” he told her.
    “And then it will be something else.” She folded her arms. “You were always a hardworking man. I can’t imagine any McBride working harder.”
    He didn’t want her words to mean anything to him, but they did. He’d wanted her and his children to be proud of him.
    “Come on before I wrestle that wrench from you like last—” Her voice trailed off. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
    Paul knew exactly why she’d made the fast retreat. When they were married, she often became annoyed with him because he’d always say he’d be there in a minute but it could turn into an hour. One evening at dinnertime he’d been working on fixing a leaky faucet in their bathroom and she’d tried to wrestle the wrench away from him. They’d ended up making love on the floor. Eight and a half months later, Duncan, their oldest, was born. He’d always given her a red rose and chocolates on Mother’s Day afterward because he’d always remember the softness of her body, the sweetness of his mouth that night.
    He blew out a breath. He wasn’t sure he could be a part of Faith’s Mother’s Day celebration. Too many memories haunted him in this house. They’d had some good times, but apparently not enough. He pushed to his feet and went to the