Married By Mistake

he had. Her willingness to make love to him this evening, when she knew their relationship was nearing its end, when he’d reiterated they had no future, suggested a more practical attitude toward love.
    Maybe he should lay his cards on the table, find out if his kind of love was enough to make a marriage work.
    * * *
    I T TOOK C ASEY a few seconds to identify the source of the dread that enveloped her the moment she awoke the next day. She looked around her bedroom, with its luxurious furnishings, the wooden shutters at the window. This place had become home remarkably fast.
    But no longer. There was nothing to keep her here.
    She was thankful Sam’s call had come before she and Adam made love again yesterday. How much harder today would have been! With the annulment, they’d tied up the last of the loose ends. The only remaining problem—Casey’s broken heart—wasn’t going to be fixed in a hurry. And it wasn’t going to be fixed here.
    She arrived downstairs for breakfast later than normal and was surprised to find Adam still at the table, lost in contemplation.
    He looked up at her and smiled, a movement of the mouth belied by the strain in his eyes. “Won’t you join me?” he said, almost as if she were a stranger.
    Casey tipped cereal into her bowl and nodded her thanks as Adam poured her a cup of hot tea. She ate in silence, aware of his somber scrutiny the whole time.
    It was off-putting, and she pushed her bowl away when she was barely half-finished. The movement seemed to act as a cue.
    “Can we talk?” he said.
    “Of course.” Were there more legalities to deal with?
    Adam cleared his throat, and she realized he was nervous.
    “This might sound odd,” he said, “but now that we’re no longer married...will you marry me?”
    A bubble of hope, joy and laughter rose from deep within her, splitting her face in a grin. “Are you serious?”
    Even as Casey asked, she realized Adam was extremely serious. In fact, he looked more as if he was about to have a tooth pulled rather than get married. And nothing like a man who had just realized he was in love. “Tell me more,” she said with careful neutrality.
    “It makes good sense,” he said, and she had the impression he was launching into a prepared argument. “We get along well, I enjoy spending time with you, we’re physically compatible. You’re a great wife, and I think you’d make a wonderful mother. We could remarry without anyone knowing we’d had our first marriage annulled.”
    “So it’s convenient,” she said. “And it fits nicely with your father’s will.”
    He shook his head, seeming annoyed at her logical summation, even though it was just the sort of thing he would say himself. “I still believe I’ll win in court, if that’s all there is to it. But I’m very fond of you, Casey. We could make a good life together. Very fond.”
    Fond. That was how she’d felt about Joe. Five weeks ago, Casey had been prepared to give up on the idea of a man who adored her. Could what Adam offered be enough? Could she be satisfied with fondness on his part, and desperate, all-consuming love on hers?
    “And Eloise loves you,” he said.
    Which only served to remind her that Adam didn’t. And that Eloise had never given up on finding true love.
    Casey added sugar to her tea, even though she preferred it unsweetened, and concentrated on stirring the gold liquid.
    “We could have a baby,” Adam said. “I know you’d like that.”
    Casey froze.
    “Sam was saying a baby would help with our legal battle,” he said. “He’ll ask the court to delay its decision. He says the best way to prove our relationship is lasting and committed is to have a child.” He paused, then a smile—a boyish grin—creased his face. He reached across the table, grabbed her hands. “A baby, Casey. Let’s get married and have a baby.”
    Casey removed her hands from his. “Adam.” Her voice shook. “I can’t have children.” And though she’d known it for a long time, telling him now brought a stab of pain so fresh it took her breath away.
    It seemed a full minute before Adam spoke. “What do you mean—can’t?” he asked, dazed.
    Somehow she strung the words together. “When I had a perforated appendix as a teenager, I got an infection in my pelvis that damaged my reproductive system. The doctors tell me I’ll never conceive.” She pressed her lips together. “Does that answer your question?”
    “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” His