Free A Christmas Together by Tara Quan Page A

type.”
    Telling him the whole truth, at this point, would hurt him and help no one. “I didn’t leave you—I left the life I had in D.C. There were…personal reasons why I needed to be in a place where I had a support network. I figured you could as easily meet me in the Emirates as in America, and that if you’d wanted to, you knew how to get in touch.” Responding to his furrowed brows and tensed jaw muscles, she clarified, “I don’t know when you ended up finishing your mission, but I was gone for months before my father’s lawyers mailed you the papers. I didn’t even find out about them until much later.”
    Because reading him had always been easy, she could almost feel his shock—and his regret. “Did you want me to come after you?”
    She shrugged. “For a while, sure. Either way, it’s done.”
    His hand clenched into a fist. “The hell it is. There’s a huge difference between separation and divorce.”
    “And according to our deal, we’ll be divorced when you leave.”
    After a long moment of silence, he narrowed his eyes and he reached for his cup. “This tastes like water.”
    She sensed he might be up to something, but was eager to switch subjects. Lifting her own tea, she inhaled. “The flavor is subtle, but it has zero caffeine.”
    He snagged a cookie. When he grinned, so did she. “This shortbread tastes more like tea than the damn drink—in a good way. I’d bet those anemic white leaves cost you an arm and a leg.”
    “Of course. It was picked by monkeys and sorted by hand,” she deadpanned.
    He grunted. “What did you do for two years? Go on a hippie walkabout?”
    “Something like that—a spiritual retreat marketed to new divorcees.”
    “You didn’t .” He unfolded from his chair, stood, and leaned forward. “Is this where you did the one-legged chant thing? And learned all the stupid Zen stuff?”
    She drummed her fingers on the cold granite. “Yoga by the beach was what I needed at the time.” And she should book another trip as soon as he left, seeing as how she’d regressed enough to consider smacking him on the head. “It wasn’t all chanting and sun salutations. There were lots of classes and talk therapy.”
    He massaged the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry I inflicted that on you. I don’t know how you survived.”
    Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine a calm, peaceful ocean. For some reason, the water seemed streaked with red. “It was the best decision of my life. I learned not to let emotions get the better of me.”
    “Sweetheart, I hate to break this to you.” His grating voice added thunder and lightning to the imagery. “But our marriage might not have ended if you’d lost your damn temper.”
    *
    “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Brennan moaned as her gaze dropped to the empty teacup. Grabbing a hand towel, she rushed over to the fridge and filled it with ice.
    “I’m fine.” Karl squawked.
    His profusely-apologizing wife raced to his side and pressed the cloth-wrapped ice onto his chest. For once, their height difference worked in his favor. He was pretty sure the scalding liquid had been aimed at his face. Good thing she missed.
    He caught her wrist. “It’s alright. I’ve been through worse.”
    Her upturned face contorted. Tears brimmed. “I have no idea what came over me—”
    “I went out of my way to make you angry.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I deserved it. I was being a Class A jerk.”
    The corners of her lips quirked up, but her brows remained furrowed. “Just a bit.”
    He guided her hand over his chest so the towel could absorb the remnants of her tea. Tendrils of golden hair escaped the clip to frame her face. All thought of pain went up in smoke. With her trim body an inch away, the slim possibility of a first degree burn seemed inconsequential. “I didn’t mean what I said. You know how everyone says it takes two people to end a marriage?”
    She nodded as he grabbed the towel from her and placed it