She shrank away from his touch, pressing back into the pillows.
She didn’t open her eyes or speak, even when she heard his swift footsteps cross the hospital room. She would not call him back. She would not! Her throat burned with the grief that she held in. She listened for him to leave. The door opened then closed. Cathy clenched her jaw. Her hands balled into fists in the bedcovers. Tears streamed out from under her eyelids, but she wept in silence.
* * * *
The hospital room door closed softly, with finality, behind him. Michael squeezed his eyes shut against the intolerable pain. He stood there, his chest heaving for air. He bent over with splayed hands on his thighs and breathed harshly through his mouth. Desolation swept through him. He had lost her, as surely as if she had died.
After an indeterminate time, he straightened up. He pushed back his shoulders and forced his wooden body to move in the direction of the waiting room where he knew he would find her family. There were things that needed to be said, that should be said. He didn’t know if he had the courage.
Her sister and brother-in-law stood up as soon as they saw him step across the threshold. With his peripheral vision, Michael was aware that Darryl was seated to the side, engaged in a conversation with Vicky Sotero that broke off when he walked forward to confront the Thompsons.
Darryl slowly stood up, taking swift measure of the situation. “Mike?”
Michael glanced toward him. He shook his head, just a little. This wasn’t a time for Darryl to interfere. Darryl gave a nod. Michael turned back to the Thompsons. “She told me that she was tired.”
“I’ll go sit with her.” Pam hurried out of the waiting room.
John waited until his wife was gone before he turned his eyes on Michael. His expression was tight. He squared his body up with his hands fisted. “I don’t know what happened between you and Cathy.” His words were clipped and cold. “All I know is that she didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, not even after she found out she was pregnant. That tells me enough!”
Michael tried to say something about what a fucked-up mess he had made of things. But he didn’t have the courage after all. “I know I deserve whatever you want to do to me. Beat me to a bloody pulp, if you want. I won’t stop you. Neither will my friend.”
Instead, John swore pithily at him. “You just saved her life, so I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt.”
Michael nodded. “Thank you. It’s more than I deserve. You’ll take care of her and Chloe?”
“Yeah, I will.” John narrowed his eyes to search Michael’s face. Whatever he saw caused him to relax his aggressive stance. More quietly, he said, “Is that what you want?”
There was a wealth of unspoken meaning in the spare words. However, Michael understood. He shook his head, the flicker of a self-mocking smile coming to his face. “No, but it’s not my choice to make.”
“I see.” John was silent for a long moment. Then he slowly held out his hand. “Good-bye, Michael.”
Michael grasped the man’s hand before turning away. Darryl was already waiting for him in the doorway. Michael walked out of the waiting room, and his partner silently fell into step beside him. He was never more glad of anything in his life than to know that he had the unconditional support of a good friend, one who would see that he got home all right, because he didn’t think that he could manage it on his own. He had lost his compass.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was a sunny, warm day. Cathy strolled along the familiar greenbelt trail. The gravel crunched under the soles of her athletic shoes. When she came in view of the playground, she walked on until she reached a deserted park bench. She stopped and laid her hands on the back of the bench. The wood was pleasantly sun-warmed under her palms. She took her time to look around. Just like the last time she had been there, children played on the playground equipment and their shrill, happy voices carried to her on the light spring breeze.
When she had been discharged from the hospital, she had been so fragile, both physically and emotionally. It had been difficult to withstand her sister and brother-in-law’s persuasive arguments for her and Chloe to go back to Singapore with them. However, she had stood firm. It had been a good decision, she reflected. Her friends, her career, and Chloe’s medical support team had all been in Austin. Pam and John had been really good to her. They had paid for a full-year’s lease in advance on the house they had sublet during their visit so that she and Chloe had a nice place to recuperate. John had found a decent used vehicle for her, too. Paul had welcomed her back to her old position, and she was slowly making headway against the remaining medical bills. Everything was turning out. Actually, she had only one regret. Michael Lambert.
Darryl Harriman and her best friend had become a couple. Cathy never directly asked about Michael, and Darryl rarely volunteered more than an occasional mention of him except in the context of business. It was Vicky who relayed all the news, including the tidbit that Cathy’s ex-husband had been mugged outside his place of business. Vicky hinted broadly that Michael had been instrumental in that nice bit of karmic justice. Cathy had mixed emotions when Vicky had also related that Michael had not started dating or seeing anyone and that his divorce was final. She also heard that Michael volunteered time with at-risk teens. Apparently, Michael had also been marked significantly by what had happened between them, and his life had been shaped for the better. She was glad.
Michael Lambert had saved her life. She had not been fully appreciative of it at the time. She had been in too bad of shape. But now, Cathy was grateful. She had had time to put everything into better perspective. She had finally wrested a hard-won peace in her life. Strangely enough, her panic attacks had never recurred, probably because she had come so close to the worst that she could ever imagine happening. Against all the odds, Chloe had survived and come home, and now she was actually thriving.
As for her torrid affair with Michael and its ugly ending, her therapist had made an acute observation. “The extreme trauma of your life, Cathy, fed and sustained the addictive sexual undertow that you were swept up in. With the turn-around in your daughter’s life, you regained a balance in your own life.”
Cathy glanced down at the wide gold bangle bracelet encircling her wrist. It was the same one that Michael had bought for her. She had thought it was lost. Apparently, one of her friends who had helped her move out of the apartment had found it. When Pam unpacked the box of clothing, she had found the bracelet. When Pam hesitantly offered it to her, Cathy had snatched the gold band and thrown it across the room.
Without a word of reprimand or surprise, Pam had picked up the bracelet and put it inside the drawer of Cathy’s bedside table. “You might want it back some day, to remember the good parts,” she had said quietly.
Cathy had not been able to even look at the bracelet for a long time. The pain was too raw. However, her sister had been right. But those good things that she remembered—were they real? Her therapist had asked her to explore that question. After all, her relationship with Michael had begun and been built on sex-for-hire. “There was an inherent and unhealthy power structure between you, Cathy, one that stifled any of the real intimacy that grows naturally between a man and a woman who are invested in one another. When money dictates and sex defines, the relationship is inevitably confined by those same parameters.” The therapist had smiled slightly, compassion in her dark gaze. “There was the added complication of your need to submerge yourself in the forgetfulness of passion. By any standard, your relationship was powerfully toxic.” Recalling that damning observation, misgivings swept through her.
I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have come!
She didn’t know what answers she had hoped to find when she set out for the greenbelt. She let go of the bench and started to walk quickly away.
“Catherine?”
Cathy almost stumbled. She shut her eyes tight for a second, before she slowly turned. Michael was standing a few feet away. He must have
come from the other direction because she hadn’t seen him before.
Uncertainty edged his expression. His stiff body language betrayed how unsure of himself he was. However, it was his eyes that held her. He stared at her with a painful intensity. It was as though he couldn’t take in enough of the sight of her.
Cathy studied him in turn. He looked older, she thought. There were unexpected shadows in the depths of his pale eyes. New lines radiated from the corners of his eyes. But he still looked good. The dark-blue knit shirt he wore set off his broad shoulders and skimmed his taut physique. It was tucked into tight-fitting jeans that snugged his lean hips and muscular thighs. He looked as physically fit as she remembered.
She nodded politely. “Thank you for meeting me.”
Michael swallowed. He felt as though he had taken a hit to the gut. She was still achingly beautiful. It hurt him just to look at her. He had arrived earlier than the time she had set for their meeting and stood out of sight to watch her from a distance. He had drunk in the sight of her until he saw her start to walk away. Unwilling to let her go without speaking to her or looking into her clear hazel eyes, he had swiftly caught up with her.
Though he was standing close, he did not reach out to touch her. He pivoted, leaned forward to wrap his hands over the back of the bench. He tightened his fingers on the warm wood. His pose was deliberately casual, but he felt the tension bunched in his shoulders. Without looking at her, he said, “I wanted to come.”
“I heard that you’re divorced.”
“Yes.” Emotions and speculation whirled in his turbulent mind. He stared straight ahead, his brows contracted. He had not worn his sunglasses so he did not want to look at her again. He did not want her to read too much in his eyes. “Why did you ask to see me?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. She watched his strong profile. Her whole body quivered with awareness of him. “Maybe because of the way things turned out. Maybe because I didn’t know if that was the way things were supposed to turn out.”
“You’ve got to know that I had strong feelings for you.”
“You, Michael? An emotional attachment?” She couldn’t help the sarcasm and bitterness that surfaced.
“Yes.” He turned his head. The shadows in his eyes had deepened to transparent pain. “I never told you. I regret that every single day.”
Something shifted inside her. All of her careful defenses cracked. The familiar hunger flowed through her. She wavered, remembering what her therapist had said, but she gave in to the need. “Would you—would you hold me?” she whispered.
She waited while Michael’s gaze searched her face. Whatever he saw in her expression made him suck in his breath. Carefully, as though he was afraid that she might break, he drew her forward into his embrace. His strong arms enveloped her, pulling her close. Her arms slid around his trim waist, and her cheek pressed against his shirtfront. She could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. Cathy closed her eyes. The warmth of his body and his well-remembered scent seeped into her senses. She felt the rightness, and the fear that had remained coiled inside her for too long finally unraveled.
They stood locked close together for several heartbeats.
“Winter—Catherine…” He loosened his arms and eased back from her until there were inches of space between them. His hands slid down her bare arms as he put her away from him, and his fingers brushed over the gold bangle bracelet on her wrist. He glanced down. His eyes rose swiftly back up to her face, and something lit up in them. “You’re wearing it?”
Cathy refused to reply to his question. “Actually, it’s Catherine Winter.” She didn’t mind that he had stepped back. She badly needed the distance. She was shaking inside with nerves. “And before you say it, no, I don’t think it will be better for me if I just walked away.”
Michael looked stunned. He visibly pulled himself together. “What are you, a mind reader?”
“Well, you’re not all that difficult to read,” she said tartly. “I got to know you… intimately.”
He physically winced. “That was low, even if I deserved it.”
“Love hurts. Bite me.” She saw astonishment spring into his face. Cathy swung around to blindly watch the children at play. She was as stunned as Michael by what had come out of her mouth.
Love hurts. Yes, it does. She knew that perhaps better than most. Yet she had survived. She turned over the words in her mind, examining them with increasing wonder at what had been hidden amongst the debris and confusion in her heart. She had once, and very reluctantly, realized that she had fallen in love with Michael. Then she had thought she hated him. It was a revelation to discover that love had survived. The question was, what did she want now? She could sense Michael staring at her, but she didn’t turn back to him.
Finally, when he spoke, there was disbelief and something that sounded very close to hope coloring his voice. “Are you saying that you can forgive me? For everything that I—for what I did?”
Cathy looked down at the wide gold bangle gleaming round her wrist. “I already have. It’s why I’m wearing the bracelet.” She looked up at him then. There was an incredulous expression on his face. She tried to smile but failed miserably. Her stupid heart began to hammer in an annoying way.
His expression grew somber. “I found out a lot about Winter. But I don’t know much about Catherine,” he said quietly. “I’d like to get to know you, Catherine. Will you let me do that?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can,” she said softly.
“I’m not asking for what we had before. I want you to understand that.” Michael tunneled one hand through his crisp dark hair. “I–I just want us to start over, like we just met today. Do you think we can do that?”
Cathy was so tense inside that she felt like she would crack in two. Mindful of what she had learned in therapy, she wanted to be careful not to fall into their old power structure. She wanted a partner, not just a lover, someone to grow old with, not just someone to see for a season of nights. “Maybe.”
He gestured politely down at the bench. Cathy hesitated, but then she went around and sat down. He seated himself at the other end. She appreciated that he was willing to give her some space. Michael shifted uncomfortably on the bench before he turned toward her. His eyes were searching. “I don’t want to rush things. I’d like to take our time.”
“It’s an idea.” She paused. “We could start with coffee. Maybe at an outside café on SoCo.”
Michael nodded and smiled. It was a gentler smile than she had ever seen from him, and it warmed her. There was nothing of the bad-ass, cold-bastard look about it.
He cleared his throat. “Catherine, I’ve been only half alive without you. I love you, you know.”
“This is your idea of taking our time?” she asked incredulously.
“I just wanted it out there. You don’t have to say anything. I’m not expecting you to.”
“That’s good.”
“I don’t know how things will end up, but if it happens for us—if later on—” Breaking off, he shook his head. “I might as well go for broke. If–if you’ll have me, Catherine, I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life loving you. Chloe is a part of you, and I’ll love her, too.”
Cathy suddenly had a little problem breathing as something started breaking free inside of her, but she still managed to reply with credible calm. “I’m beginning to like the sound of this.”
“Catherine…” He looked away, his throat visibly working as he swallowed. “I’ve never been able to get it out of my head. I’ve got to know.” He turned his gaze back to her, a sudden fierce intensity lighting his eyes. “I understand why you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. But I’ve got to know this! When you found out that you were pregnant, that you were carrying my child, why didn’t you have an abortion?”
Cathy felt her own throat close up. It took her a moment before she could speak. “After fighting so hard for Chloe’s life, how could I have just
thrown another precious child away?” She couldn’t bear to look at him, but she saw when his hand crossed the distance between them and covered hers. His gentle hold was comforting in its warmth. She almost felt his sigh, it was so deep.
“I always wanted a family. I thought Morgan would, too. She did not tell me when she became pregnant. Or that she had an abortion. I found out only when I confronted her over her affair.”
Cathy bit her lip. In his voice, she could hear the depth of his pain over that deeper betrayal. “I am so sorry, Michael.”
“It was the biggest regret of my life. Until I lost you.”
The stark words hung in the air.
She shook her head. She had been forced to come to terms about her own responsibility in their relationship. “It wasn’t all your fault. I was out of my mind, about Chloe.”
They did not speak again for a long time. There were too many raw emotions and unresolved issues swirling between them. After awhile, though, it was not an uncomfortable silence. Eventually, he asked, very softly, “Did you really say that you love me?”
“I might have.” Cathy looked up quickly. She watched as his mouth quirked up on one side in a specter of his old smile. She sighed dramatically. “All right, I did! I don’t know why though. All that kinky sex probably had something to do with it!”
Michael’s expression altered so swiftly that she was shocked. He lifted his hand off hers, breaking physical contact with her. Her flippancy evaporated. She had hurt him without trying, her unthinking words reminding him of things of the past that they would both have to work hard at putting behind them. She looked down as she tightened her hands together in her lap. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—I just don’t know how to handle this.”
There was a short silence before Michael exhaled audibly. “Catherine, do you honestly believe we have anything left to start over with?”
“I don’t know.” She lifted her eyes to his shadowed gaze and saw an expression that she had never seen before, one mingled with hope, despair, and humbleness.
Roberts, Sarah - His Sugar Baby (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 27
