"Aye, he's just wailing at whoever will listen," she said with a shake of her head. "My father has always done that whenever he feels helpless. It's just his way. You know it's not going to happen."

"Maybe, but I'm not so willing to rule out an attempt. I think he might be serious about this," I offered after a moment.

She shook her head again. "My mother will put an end to it, never you mind."

"I hope you're right."

"Don't you know by now, we O'Brien women are the dominant type?"

"Yes, I do, but under the circ.u.mstances I don't think you should joke about that right now."

"If I don't joke about it, Rowan, I'll just be crying, then."

"Yeah..." I mumbled.

"So," she said, giving her head a sideways nod toward my bruised knuckles without actually turning to look. "When are you going to tell me what happened to your hand?"

I wasn't sure she'd even noticed. She hadn't really looked at me since Jackie and I had arrived, at least, not that I had seen. But, I wasn't going to gripe about it just yet. We now had a dialogue going and that was an improvement.

"Nothing really. An irresistible force met an unmovable object."

"Aye, so you were venting aggression, then. Do we need a new door or just a patch job on a wall?"

"Neither. Ben's jaw was the object."

"Oh, Caorthann..." she muttered, using the Gaelic version of my name. It was the first time since she'd entered the room that she had seemed to show any real emotion at all.

"Don't worry about it. He asked for it. Literally."

"Don't blame him, Rowan. This isn't his fault."

"Yeah. He keeps saying the same thing."

"He's right."

"That remains to be seen."

"Aye, you don't believe he's responsible for this and you know it."

"Responsible or not, he's the one who led you out of the house in handcuffs, and I'm afraid that's going to take a lot of forgiving on my part."

"He was doing his job."

"Uh-huh."

"Rowan..."

"I have my reasons, honey," I cut her off. "Why don't we move on to something else?"

I didn't think it would be a good idea to let her in on the fact that Ben wasn't convinced of her innocence. However, if we stayed on this subject, I was probably going to screw up and tell her just that. For now, I felt it was better to let her keep on believing he was one of the good guys. Maybe with a little luck he would come around, and she'd never have to know about his doubts.

"All right, then. What would you like to talk about?"

She still wasn't making eye contact with me, and I knew that wasn't good. However, since she'd seemed to open up, I decided to push a little further.

"Your turn to share. Why don't you tell me what your problem is with me?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Look at me."

"What?"

"Look at me, Felicity. You haven't looked me in the face since they brought you into the room."

She sucked in a deep breath and slowly turned her head the necessary fraction to meet my eyes, but only barely. We held one another's gaze for a long moment before I finally broke the thick silence.

"Would you like to tell me what's wrong? Besides the obvious I mean."

"Aye, what are you talking about then?"

"Felicity, something's going on here that I'm not being told. Jackie informed me last night that you don't want her discussing your case with me. Then, after she moved the world to get me in here to see you today, we're making small talk about nothing, and I can hardly even get you to look at me. What's going on? Why are you shutting me out?"

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Give me a break, honey. Yes, you are. h.e.l.l, a blind, deaf mute can tell what's going on here. What I want to know is why?"

"Aye, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, guess what? I do."

"Well I don't. Not now."

"Dammit, Felicity!" I barked the reply as I pushed back from the table and stood. "There isn't time for this. If I'm going to help you, I have to know what's going on from all sides. Cutting me off like this isn't going to get either of us anywhere. Least of all you."

She didn't even flinch at my minor outburst. Her face remained stoic and eyes focused on where I had been sitting. She didn't even bring her gaze up to meet mine.

"Maybe there isn't anywhere for me to get to."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe I'm already there."

"Felicity, I definitely don't like the sound of this," I said, a mix of confusion and anger in my voice. "What are you trying to say?"

She dropped her head forward and stared down at her wrists as she continued to gently rub them. Silence filled the short void between us, and I continued to watch as her shoulders seemed to droop even more than they had only moments ago.

Finally, without looking up, she said, "I spoke with Jackie about this last night. I was going to wait a bit, but since you're asking now...anyway...I'm...I'm thinking it might be a good idea for you to file for divorce."

CHAPTER 16:.

If ever there was a sentence that could qualify as a sucker punch, there it was, and the fact that Felicity had just delivered it stunned me speechless. The force behind the meaning of the word landed square in my gut, and then just for good measure it backhanded me across the face. Of anything my wife could have said to me, that was absolutely the last thing I ever imagined. In fact, I hadn't imagined it at all, that's how far off the chart it truly was.

I honestly didn't know whether the air had just evacuated from my lungs of its own accord or if I had simply forgotten to breathe. What I did know was that my ears were ringing, and the wearisome headache was ramping up a little more with each and every heartbeat.

The cold hollowness that was drilling into the pit of my stomach started to extend its fingers outward through my body, and I felt like I wanted to vomit. All I could do was stare back at her with what I am sure was a mix of incredulity and utter shock on my face. The mask of confused emotions was entirely lost on her though because she was still staring at the table, not me.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to wheeze in a deep breath as stars started to dance in front of my eyes. My brain ran up and down the scale of emotions, randomly choosing one, trying it on for size, and then discarding it for another. Happiness wasn't one that ever made it into that mix. Finally, after the fifth or sixth emotional costume change, I found myself fitting comfortably into anger and I remained there.

"File for..." I blurted, unable to complete the sentence for fear of actually manifesting the act if I dared speak the word aloud. "What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?! Have you lost your mind?!"

Felicity had yet to raise her eyes from the table, and even that jibe didn't force her to do so.

She muttered quietly, "You could probably use that when you file."

"Use it my a.s.s!" I snapped. "And, I'm not going to file for a G.o.ddammed...you know...one of those things."

"Divorce."

"Don't say it!"

"Calm down, Rowan. It's just a word."

"Maybe so, but words and magick go hand in hand, especially with you...either way, I'm not going there."

"But..."

I cut her off. "But nothing. Who told you to do this anyway? Have you been talking to your father or something?"

"No."

"Was it Jackie? Because if it was, she's fired. I'll get you a different attorney."

"No," she returned, shaking her head but still not looking up. "No one told me to do this. It's my idea."

"Your idea?"

"Aye."

"Your idea. No outside influence. Just poof, you want a divorce."

"I already said yes."

"So, are you trying to tell me you really and truly want one of those?"

She paused then nodded her head slightly.

"No," I admonished. "You need to say it."

"Yes." There was no mistaking the marked hesitation that came before she choked out the word.

"Yeah, right. You'll excuse me if I don't believe you."

"Well, I do."

"Okay, if you want it so bad then why don't you file for it yourself?"

"I'm a little busy in case you haven't noticed."

"Trust me, I've noticed," I quipped. "So you came up with this idea all by yourself?"

"Aye. I've already told you that."

"Okay. How about you fill me in on the particulars, like, oh, I don't know, why?"

"It's the right thing to do."

"The right thing to do? Honey, this isn't like leaving a note on someone's windshield after you accidentally ding their car door on the supermarket parking lot."

"Do you really think I don't know that?"

"If you do, then get serious and tell me why? Have you suddenly stopped loving me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, it has to be something. As far as I can recall, I'm not abusive...or a deadbeat...I'm not unfaithful, and I'm certain you know that. You'll tell me when I start getting warm, right?"

She expelled a frustrated breath and shot back, "Look, I just want a divorce. That's all."

I know for a fact I visibly cringed at the word. The pain in my over-tightened muscles broadcast it loud and clear.

"Not good enough," I replied. "You're going to have to tell me the real why."

"I just did."

"Guess again, sweetheart. It's not going to fly. Give me one good reason for you suddenly wanting this. Did you find someone else?"