Truth of the Matter Read online

  PRAISE FOR IN THE CARDS

  “Infused with . . . fresh detail. Between the sweetness of the relationship and the summery beach setting, romance fans will find this a warming winter read.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Fans will love the frank honesty of her characters. [Beck’s] scenery is richly detailed and the story engaging.”

  —RT Book Reviews

  “[A] realistic and heartwarming story of redemption and love . . . Beck’s understanding of interpersonal relationships and her flawless prose make for a believable romance and an entertaining read.”

  —Booklist

  PRAISE FOR WORTH THE WAIT

  “[A] poignant and heartwarming story of young love and redemption and will literally make your heart ache . . . Jamie Beck has a real talent for making the reader feel the sorrow, regret, and yearning of this young character.”

  —Fresh Fiction

  PRAISE FOR WORTH THE TROUBLE

  “Beck takes readers on a journey of self-reinvention and risky investments, in love and in life . . . With strong family ties, loyalty, playful banter, and sexual tension, Beck has crafted a beautiful second-chances story.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  PRAISE FOR SECRETLY HERS

  “[I]n Beck’s ambitious, uplifting second Sterling Canyon contemporary . . . [c]onflicting views and family drama lay the foundation for emotional development in this strong Colorado-set contemporary.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Witty banter and the deepening of the characters and their relationship, along with some unexpected plot twists and a lovable supporting cast . . . will keep the reader hooked . . . A smart, fun, sexy, and very contemporary romance.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  PRAISE FOR WORTH THE RISK

  “An emotional read that will leave you reeling at times and hopeful at others.”

  —Books and Boys Book Blog

  PRAISE FOR UNEXPECTEDLY HERS

  “Character-driven, sweet, and chock-full of interesting secondary characters.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  PRAISE FOR BEFORE I KNEW

  “A tender romance rises from the tragedy of two families—a must read!”

  —Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Jamie Beck’s deeply felt novel hits all the right notes, celebrating the power of forgiveness, the sweetness of second chances, and the heady joy of reaching for a dream. Don’t miss this one!”

  —Susan Wiggs, #1 New York Times bestselling author

  “Before I Knew kept me totally enthralled as two compassionate, relatable characters, each in search of forgiveness and fulfillment, turn a recipe for heartache into a story of love, hope, and some really good menus!”

  —Shelley Noble, New York Times bestselling author of Whisper Beach

  PRAISE FOR ALL WE KNEW

  “A moving story about the flux of life and the steadfastness of family.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “An impressively crafted and deftly entertaining read from first page to last.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  “All We Knew is compelling, heartbreaking, and emotional.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  PRAISE FOR JOYFULLY HIS

  “A quick and sweet read that is perfect for the holidays.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  PRAISE FOR WHEN YOU KNEW

  “[A]n opposites-attract romance with heart.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  PRAISE FOR THE MEMORY OF YOU

  “[Beck] deepens a typical story about first loves reuniting by exploring the aftermath of a violent act. Readers will root for an ending that repairs this couple’s past hurt.”

  —Booklist

  “Beck’s portrayals of divorce and trauma are keen . . . Readers will be caught up in their journey toward healing and romance.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “The Memory of You is heartbreaking, emotional, entertaining, and a unique second-chance romance.”

  —Harlequin Junkie

  PRAISE FOR THE PROMISE OF US

  “Beck’s depiction of trauma, loss, friendship, and family resonates deeply. A low-key small-town romance unflinching in its portrayal of the complexities of friendship and family, and the joys and sorrows they bring.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “A fully absorbing and unfailingly entertaining read.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  PRAISE FOR THE WONDER OF NOW

  “The Wonder of Now is emotional, it is uplifting, it is heartbreaking, but ultimately shows the reader the best of humanity in a heartfelt story.”

  —Midwest Book Review

  PRAISE FOR IF YOU MUST KNOW

  “Beck expertly captures the bickering between sisters, the pain of regret, and the thorny path to forgiveness. With well-realized secondary characters . . . and believable surprises peppered throughout, Beck’s emotional tale rings true.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  ALSO BY JAMIE BECK

  In the Cards

  The St. James Novels

  Worth the Wait

  Worth the Trouble

  Worth the Risk

  The Sterling Canyon Novels

  Accidentally Hers

  Secretly Hers

  Unexpectedly Hers

  Joyfully His

  The Cabot Novels

  Before I Knew

  All We Knew

  When You Knew

  The Sanctuary Sound Novels

  The Memory of You

  The Promise of Us

  The Wonder of Now

  The Potomac Point Novels

  If You Must Know

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2020 by Write Ideas, LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542008730

  ISBN-10: 1542008735

  Cover design by David Drummond

  For Ford and Kayla, with all the love in my heart.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EXCERPT: FOR ALL SHE KNOWS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  ANNE SULLIVAN CHASE

  Ten more minutes—fifteen, tops. I can stick this closing out for that long without falling apart. A revenge p
lan of some kind might’ve cushioned the blow, but payback won’t put my family back together. I’ve survived losses before. The only new ground this time will be helping my daughter, Katy, cope with the fallout. I have a plan for that, but at present I’m best served by relaxing my shoulders, sipping my water, and maintaining my carefully blank expression.

  Hiding my feelings would be easier if I hadn’t left our home for the last time less than an hour ago. Without drapes and carpets, the McMansion had felt cooler than the inside of its Sub-Zero refrigerator. A fitting end.

  Recollections of those final moments spent in the foyer bombard me. On the wall, unfaded squares where my original paintings had hung. The faint echoes of the shrill bell on the pink bike Katy used to pedal across the floor, and of the futile marital arguments about missed soccer games and inconsiderate in-laws that replaced laughter and “I love yous.” The aroma of cocoa on rainy mornings spent seated in the family room’s window bench, where I’d stared past the pool to the wooded perimeter, wondering how I could be a mother and wife yet so lonesome.

  Like shadows, my memories record the history of a family that will no longer live under one roof. Of the atrophied dreams and broken promises flayed by the sharp blade of divorce. But the worst part of my morning was the look on Katy’s tear-streaked face before she jumped into the yellow Jeep that Richard bought her on her sixteenth birthday, and sped away from me like a canary freed of its cage.

  Now, while the brokers leave the conference room to confirm the wire transfer and the buyers exchange a celebratory kiss at the other end of the table, Richard turns to me. “Jim will be in touch to finalize the transfer of stocks and other things before the end of the week.”

  It’s not surprising that my husband of seventeen years treats the end of our marriage as nothing more than another negotiation. His emotional IQ has dipped in direct inverse relation to his legal career’s spike. He’s probably quite self-satisfied for being so “generous” with our divorce settlement, but, honestly, I’d prefer less money in exchange for seeing even an ounce of regret in his eyes.

  I say nothing about the stocks because “Thank you” seems unwarranted for something I earned in exchange for years of waiting patiently—raising our daughter largely on my own while supporting him as he built his practice—on the promise of the life we would one day share. Surprise! Instead of planning empty-nest vacation weekends in Bermuda, he dumped me to bestow those perks on Lauren, the interloper.

  I hate Lauren. A blow-up-pictures-of-her-face-and-toss-darts, stopping-barely-short-of-wishing-harm-on-her kind of hate. And I’ve never hated anyone in my life, so I haven’t mastered control over the crippling surges of vengeance. It’s frightening, to be honest, so I redirect my thoughts and ask Richard about his plans with our daughter.

  “Where are you taking Katy for lunch?” At the first hint of his confused expression, I grip my purse to keep from pounding my fists on the table. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

  Sorry not sorry about my irked tone.

  “I did.” He proceeds to scrub his face with both hands in one deliberate motion. God, that annoys me. Each gesture, word, and outfit is chosen with care. “I promised Lauren—”

  “You cannot blow off Katy for your girlfriend today of all days.” Technically Lauren’s his new fiancée, but I won’t give her that respect. Three and a half months ago, Richard confessed his affair and asked for this divorce. Nine weeks ago, he moved out. His eagerness to move on is driving his acquiescence on financial and custody matters. Still, Richard’s already put a ring on Lauren’s finger although technically our divorce isn’t finalized. “Lauren sees you plenty. Katy needs your reassurance today. She’s having a rough time with the changes. Please be there for her, Richard.”

  Ah, finally. The tiniest trace of guilt disrupts the cool surface of those Pacific-blue eyes. “I’ll have lunch with Katy.”

  Again, “Thank you” seems unfitting. I settle on “Good.”

  “But don’t act like I’m abandoning her. You’re taking her out of town.” He drums his fingers on the table, glowering.

  He probably doesn’t expect me to smile in response, but I can’t help it. Purchasing my gram’s old Cape Cod–style home in the sleepy bayside town of Potomac Point has been my only silver lining in this situation.

  Yes, part of me is fleeing Arlington to avoid both the pitying whispers of “friends” and bumping into Richard and Lauren. But my childhood summers on the water were a salve after I lost my mother, and living there should help Katy deal with this loss. Plus, I want to spend more time with Gram before her dementia erases every shared memory.

  Katy and I deserve something good in our lives, so I won’t apologize for it.

  Still, Richard knows me well enough to suspect I wrestle doubts, mostly because of Katy’s intensifying anxiety about leaving her friends and changing schools. Yet every parenting book promises she’ll gain new confidence from learning to adapt. Real confidence, not the false kind she gets from tap-dancing to her father’s tune for praise. Once we get through these rocky first weeks, the change of pace will be good for us both.

  “Please let me live with Dad,” Katy had pleaded before driving off. Each of those words had whistled through the air to pierce my heart like poison-tipped darts, and not only because I’ve devoted myself to parenting her. Richard hasn’t and won’t.

  From the moment we accidentally conceived her in college, he’s loved the idea of his mini-me—our gorgeous, intelligent daughter—yet, over time, his priorities have undermined her bit by bit, pecking away at her like a crow.

  Despite this act he’s putting on now, he doesn’t want Katy disturbing his next family, but of course he won’t tell her that. Once again he’s left the black hat on the table for me to wear while I flounder for some way not to devastate her—exactly like he did when he dropped the divorce bomb on me in early May and then took off for New York for a few weeks to work some big deal.

  Frankly, I expected him to do or say something to reset the balance of power today. For once, control is something I can deny him for a change. He leans forward, hands stretched out on the table, wedding band already removed. I cover my wedding rings before pulling both hands onto my lap.

  “Anne, you’ll be better off once you admit that you weren’t any happier in our marriage than I’ve been lately. Trust me, there’s someone out there who’s more capable of meeting your needs than I ever was. You deserve that, too.”

  Blandishments? My temperature is steadily climbing. At this rate, I could blow like Vesuvius before the brokers return. All these years I’ve set aside my own ambitions and managed our home and daughter while he focused on his career, and this is how he repays me? In any case, the last thing I want now is another man in my life after having spent my entire adulthood with this one.

  “Gee, thanks.” I refuse to look away although something uncomfortable slithers through me—perhaps an acknowledgment of my willingness over time to settle for a B-minus marriage instead of striving for an A-plus one.

  Our passion had begun to ebb once he’d graduated from law school and gone to work. Truth be told, Richard practically lived at his office while building his practice, which then left me little opportunity to be either an outstanding or a poor wife.

  Then Katy started showing signs of extreme sensitivities around four—a hyperawareness of others’ opinions, banging her head against a wall when she made a mistake, crying too easily over every little thing. Richard called them tantrums, but I worried she might have deeper issues. Managing her behavior and schedule required more and more of my attention, exhausting me.

  Between Richard’s long hours, my volunteerism, and Katy’s needs, it seemed as if sex became scheduled like every other obligation, and our conversations veered toward efficiency rather than intimacy. But we’d had Katy to connect us, and I thought we’d rediscover each other and spontaneity once she went to college.

  The actual result? Richard now enjoys a thriving practice and new f
amily while I’m living in a chronic state of confusion with a teen who constantly misconstrues me.

  He’s still handsome, though: thick dark hair with hints of silver, cheekbones I envy, and a gorgeous mouth. Vital, too, thanks to vigorous exercise and boundless energy. Most things come easily to him, as with Katy. Maybe that’s why neither of them is patient with how hard the rest of us work for the things that matter.

  “Seems I can’t do anything right today.” He sits back. It saddens me that this exchange has probably reaffirmed his relief to be ditching me. I bury every bit of grief beneath the thick seams of resentment and righteous indignation his adultery has handed me.

  To look at him now, I wouldn’t recognize the man who pursued me during our junior year at the University of Richmond. He’d been relentless, coming around the studio where I’d painted, or bringing his books along to the James River Park’s green spaces where I’d sketched. Like my gram, he’d encouraged my wildest artistic dreams. That praise, the belly kisses and hushed whispers as we lay naked and spent, the love notes stuck in my backpack, the flowers he’d bring for no reason—all his ardor tricked me into believing that, despite being twenty, naive, and pregnant, we could build a happy life together—a family like the one I’d lost when my mother died.

  Since then, I’ve come to call that zeal his “acquisition mode,” as he’s wooed new clients with the same intensity. His surname suits him, because he much prefers the chase to maintenance.

  Lauren will be in my shoes soon enough. The day some major new client or other woman crosses his radar, I’ll have the last laugh. Of course, I’ll feel bad for her two young children, who’ll be casualties of his whims. Like Katy.

  If Richard and I were alone now, I might literally reach across the table to slap that self-pitying look off his face. Look at him sitting there as if everything is about him. He doesn’t get it and never will. My mood—the root of my concern—is about Katy.

  Yes, I’m a woman in my prime. A woman of some means. A woman with talent, some might even say. But first and foremost I am a mother.

  “What’d you do with the furniture? It can’t all fit in Marie’s old house.” Richard’s question temporarily throws me.

  “Severed Ties took what we didn’t need.” The high-end consignment store pays the original owner 50 percent of its profit on sales. “Whatever I make will be put toward Katy’s college fund.”