The Marriage Replay by Maggie Cox

blaze of sunshine pouring down on a busy King’s Road. Feeling her spirits rise in spite of everything, and determined to take further steps towards her own healing, rather than go back to an empty house she decided to hang around for a while and maybe do a little shopping. She wouldn’t overdo it, because she was still suffering with fatigue after her ordeal and she’d been strictly advised to take things easy, but right now Sorrel wasn’t interested in spending precious time browsing clothes shops. She’d much rather seek out a wonderful little bookshop she knew of, tucked away down a very exclusive little Chelsea side street. It was there in the past that she’d often discovered some of the most fascinating and unusual books on history and music that were Reece’s favourite reading material….
    Â 
    At first he’d panicked when he’d arrived home and found the house devoid of his wife’s presence. With his heart in his mouth, Reece had climbed the stairs two at a time to her bedroom and wrenched open the wardrobe doors. Finding her clothes undisturbed, the suitcases empty and her toiletries and make-up still scattered along the marble surround in the bathroom, he had allowed himself to breathe more easily.
    For a few disturbing minutes there he had seriously believed the worst—that Sorrel had left him again…only this time for good. She hadn’t wanted him to go to lunch with Angelina. But after the angry words they’d hurled at each other in the middle of the night, Reece hadn’t felt like placating her this morning either. Work was work, he’d told himself, and life couldn’t come to a standstill just because they had suffered this tragedy— or because Sorrel was suspicious there might besomething more than just professional interest between him and the opera star.
    She couldn’t have gone far. Maybe she’d simply needed some fresh air and had gone for a walk in the park near their home? He’d give her another hour, he decided. If there were no sign of her by then, Reece would go out and look for her.
    Suddenly feeling drained of energy emotionally, he kicked off his shoes and dropped down onto the sumptuous bed that they no longer shared. Putting his arm behind his head, he lay there for several minutes just staring up at the ceiling. The sun poured in through the huge glass panels that made up one wall in a soporific beam of light and made him drowsy. Finally, weary of thinking, Reece turned onto his side, breathed in the familiar scent that Sorrel used and which lingered so evocatively on the pillow, closed his eyes and went to sleep.
    Â 
    Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, Sorrel put down the bookshop carrier bag that she’d brought upstairs and stared at the still, sleeping figure of her husband stretched out on the bed. She was struck by a wave of emotion so powerful that her whole body started to tremble. With his eyes closed in sleep and his hair dishevelled as a small boy’s, her love for him submerged her with almost unbearable longing.
    He was so strong, vital and handsome that any woman would be seriously elated to come home and find him there like that—caught in a moment of exquisitely poignant vulnerability, for a short time the veneer of success and ruthless ambition tamed in the surrender of sleep. If only he’d hear her out properly and they could settle on some agreement about the way they’d live their lives in future, Sorrel was thinking. If only he’d come round to seeing the benefits of family life, he might relent and let them try for another baby… But how was that possible if he really didn’t love her any more?
    Her heart jumped guiltily as Reece suddenly opened his eyes and stared at her.
    â€˜Where have you been?’ he asked, his voice still edged with sleep.
    â€˜I needed to get out of the house.’
    Heat seared her cheeks and probably gave her the first