I was young, barely twenty-two, when I met Jamie Randall. While I wasn’t overwhelmed by passion (a state I’m not sure I could ever reach), I saw him as my prince, my knight in shining armor. He was going to rescue me from my prison, though he was not aware of it. He was such a gentleman when we were dating, never even trying to kiss me, I was certain I’d found the right man, the solution to my problem.
Even when he asked me to marry him and presented me with a ring, an appropriately-sized diamond, I was sure he did not love me. I didn’t love him, either, though I made sure he and my parents believed I did. He needed me, needed my family’s connections. And I needed him. In that respect, we were a perfect match.
After the wedding, we went on a honeymoon, then came home and began our married life in the townhouse my parents had given us as a wedding gift. Even then, my father had to be in control. When I found myself pregnant within our first year of marriage, I was terrified. Jamie and I had agreed to wait five years before starting a family. He was resentful during my pregnancy and spent even more time away from home than he had before. Even so, I never doubted his faithfulness. In spite of his reputation in the business world, my husband was an honorable man.
He turned out to be a wonderful father. Once the twins were born, he could not get enough of Noah and Ethan. Still, he spent so much time away on business….
Then he went to Rome. When I heard about the earthquake, I was terrifed for him. I thanked God he was eventually rescued, but after we brought him home, I became aware of subtle differences in him. Coming so close to death had changed him. The passions he’d channeled into his work now found release elsewhere….
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I could see Kimberly Williams as Liz….