Slumber

by Cassandra Dean

  The elderly man next to her stiffened, and although Ned’s chubby profile wasn’t intimidating, his stance screamed protectiveness as he stepped in front of Armina.

  Ian crossed the polished floor and held out his right hand. “Welcome to the Inn, Ned. We look forward to helping you and your friends with your healing process.”

  Ned gripped his cane and glared at him as if he were an exceptionally vile bug. “I’m not shaking your hand because you don’t deserve that kind of respect after the way you’ve treated my niece.”

  “I respect your honesty.” Unable to remember the last time he’d been so roundly put in his place, Ian lowered his arm.

  “We’re here because this is the best place of its kind—the only place—for the rehab treatment the surgeons need,” Ned continued.

  “We pride ourselves on providing a premium experience.” Ian turned to the other gentlemen and nodded his head in lieu of a handshake. “Frank and Lenny, I’m glad you’re here. We have excellent plans and teams in place to adjust you to your new prosthetics.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Frank said.

  “I’m counting on a lot of things,” Lenny added.

  Not attempting to decipher the meaning behind that comment, Ian turned to his wife. He needed to say so much, he didn’t know where to start. “Armina, this is a surprise.”

  “Not a pleasant one, I’m well aware, so no need to pretend.” She pulled a set of papers and a pen out of her shoulder bag and stepped toward him with a mixture of confidence, control, and purpose she hadn’t possessed two years ago. “I need you to sign the divorce papers. I’m not touching the Inn or a cent of your money. I don’t want anything. I just want the divorce to be final.”

  He took the papers, but couldn’t look at them. His lawyer had warned him that no matter how much he delayed and stalled, he couldn’t change the end result. Doing so would require going back in time and stopping her from walking out on him. Instead, he’d been preoccupied with the professional crises inundating him from every angle. He hadn’t understood the permanence of her absence until way too late.

  “I like your hair,” he offered. The last time he’d seen her, she’d worn it in a short, no-nonsense bob, but it now hung past her shoulders, straight and shiny black.

  She rolled her eyes. Although still guarded, they’d lost their freezer-burn quality. “Not relevant.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s sexy.”

  The fire in her gaze revealed how strongly she believed he no longer had the right to call her sexy or to compliment her at all. He needed to retreat and regroup until he could come up with a plan to earn his way into her good graces.

  Shifting his gaze to the three surgeons and the check-in staff, he said, “Let’s get everyone settled in their rooms and ready for the first activity of the day. I’ll take Ned. Cat, you’re in charge of helping Armina get settled.”

  “Of course.” His assistant slid the older man’s file across the counter. He picked it up, leaving the offensive divorce papers behind. Leading Ned away from the lobby, he pointed out changes in the facility since the surgeons had last visited.

  Ned remained silent until they’d walked the length of one corridor and turned the corner into the next section of the Inn. “If your plan is to ignore what Armina wants in order to make her go away, why don’t you sign the papers so she will go away?”

  Ian stumbled on the smooth floor. “Because that’s not my plan at all.” He stopped walking and turned to the man whose tweed jacket didn’t quite cover his round midsection. “I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was when she left me.”

  Ned thumped his cane on the ground. “How will she ever discover those changes if you never try to prove them to her?”

  “Coming here wasn’t her idea, was it? You talked her into it.” Although disappointed, he couldn’t deny his relief that they had another chance, regardless of the circumstances.

  Her uncle stared at him. “From here on out, if she still wants to walk away, you have to let her.”

  His heart seized. “I don’t want to, but I will if we can’t make our relationship work. Thank you for giving us a second chance.”

  “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. I want to see her happy again. The jury’s still out on whether or not she can achieve that with you.”