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Unforgiven

Page 2

by Lorhainne Eckhart


  “I haven’t felt well for a while. I don’t think it’s anything, but I was dizzy. Maybe I got up too fast. I called the doctor, and he said to come in.”

  “Did you eat?” He hadn’t paid much attention to what she’d been doing. She was only working part time for Boeing in business operations, part of the team. She was one of many who collected and organized data, an easy job. She could do a lot of her work from the company laptop from home, so she was there most days, spending much of her time in his condo, working and waiting for him.

  He could hear her hesitating. It wasn’t a sound, rather something that always came through on the phone line or when they were in the same room together. She was doing that more often as of late, he realized, maybe because she was afraid of how he’d react. Maybe.

  “Come on, Jill. Spit it out. I don’t have time for this.” He knew he sounded short.

  “Yes, I ate. It’s probably nothing. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  Why did she do that? For a minute, he wanted to reach through the phone and shake her. Instead, he took the phone and tapped it against his forehead in frustration. “Jill, for the love of God, just tell me. I don’t have time for twenty questions. I have a deposition I’m trying to get ready for.” This was starting to become the only way he spoke to her. Of course, he didn’t miss Erin’s frown.

  “I just felt not quite okay—flu symptoms, kind of shaky. That’s all, Samuel. I put off calling because I wasn’t sleeping well and thought it was that. The doctor just asked me to come in. There’s nothing more because I don’t know what more there is.” She sounded upset, almost defensive.

  “What time is the appointment?” He grabbed a pen.

  “In an hour.” She was curt.

  He glanced at his watch. It was just past nine. He could meet her there. If it didn’t take long, he could be in and out and make it back here by eleven. He could do it. It would be cutting it close, but he could blow her off, too. He was better at that. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Samuel, you don’t have to meet me. I just wanted to let you know. I can call you after—”

  “Jill, I said I would meet you there.” He glanced over at Erin and then down at his watch, hating to be under the gun like this. His job was important, his position with the firm, but he had made a commitment. This baby had him so twisted up that he didn’t know if he was coming or going. “I’ve got to do a few things here, and then I’ll be there.”

  She sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

  He held the phone, listening to the click when she hung up. The tense vibe lingered. He stared at the phone a second before hanging up, as well. He didn’t look over at Erin even though he could feel her watching him, studying him as if trying to figure out what to say to him.

  “Your wife?” she finally asked.

  “Yeah, she has to go to the doctor.” He put his hand on the file and slid it across the desk. “Look I’ve gone through this, and I’m ready for the deposition. I’ll be back before the client gets here.”

  Erin’s dark eyes widened to something that resembled panic. “What? No!”

  Samuel slid back his chair and stepped around the desk. “I’ll be back in time.”

  “No, wait, we still need to discuss this case before Mrs. Stowles arrives, and what if you don’t make it back? I’m not ready to take the lead. What am I supposed to do? They’re coming at eleven. You don’t have time.” She was still sitting, but she had shot up straight as she slid around in the chair, watching as he slipped on his dark green suit jacket and lifted his trench coat from the coat tree in the corner. His small office overlooked the bullpen of legal secretaries and clerks.

  “We have nothing left to go over, so stop worrying. If they show up early, just make sure Mrs. Stowles doesn’t cross paths with her husband or his lawyer.” He strode back to his desk, grabbed his cell phone, and stuffed his iPad and all the documents he still needed to review in his tote, then lifted it over his shoulder.

  “Samuel, I hope this doesn’t sound cold, because I really do want everything to be okay with your wife, but you’re a junior associate, and whether you believe it or not, I’m not vying for your job. This is a really big case for the firm, and if you screw it up, it won’t look good for you. Leaving me stuck if you don’t show is as good as screwing me, too, and I’ve worked too damn hard to get where I am to be left floundering. Do you get me?”

  This was the first time he’d ever seen Erin look the least bit worried. “I told you I’ll be back—and for the record, Jill isn’t my wife.”

  He didn’t wait for her shocked response before he left his office, stopping at his secretary’s desk to let her know where he was going.

  As Samuel walked out of the office, he remembered the day that haunted him still: his wedding, that afternoon two months before when his family didn’t show, and the despair on Jill’s face as they stood before the justice of the peace to say their vows. The only thing that had come out of Jill’s mouth was “I’m sorry.”

  ***

  Chapter 3

  “See? This works,” Samuel said. “You can talk to me and get ready for the meeting at the same time.” He stopped outside the twelfth-floor office in the medical building eight blocks from work, sixteen from home—which was maybe one reason he didn’t want to move. Another move with Jill would mean the place was theirs, something permanent, something he believed would drive the wedge with his family even deeper.

  “Samuel, I’m not kidding,” Erin said over the phone. “If you’re late for this deposition, I will kill you.”

  He could hear something in her voice that he hadn’t heard before: fear. There was a click in the background and then quiet as if she had shut a door, but then, Erin didn’t have an office. She worked in the bullpen with the other third years who did all the grunt work for the other lawyers.

  “Just calm down,” he said. “I’m not going to be late. You just need to have everything ready in the conference room before the client arrives. The court reporter will be there to set up, and she doesn’t need you there to do anything, so stop panicking. She’s been there before.”

  “Samuel, listen to me. One of the reasons I wanted to talk to you first beforehand is that when I went through the files, I flagged something: wifey was financing hubby’s business, which is now financially on the rocks.”

  “What does that have to do with her suing him for rape and trying to get that on the record? Where are you going with this?” he said. He didn’t see Jill in the waiting room. The glass doors revealed several women in all stages of pregnancy and small children playing with toys in a play area in the corner.

  “Samuel, think about it. The mister’s lawyer isn’t great, but don’t you think this is rather coincidental, with the arguments that have gone back and forth between Samantha and Rick? Of course it escalated to violence, but it started out with Rick going ahead and doing something without Samantha’s knowledge, putting her on the hook for the bill. I mean, I’d be pissed, rightly so—but his lawyer is going to take her account of the rape and spin it into some sort of payback.”

  Samuel listened as he saw Jill round the corner, wearing a short black trench coat, open to show a blue and pink striped sweater. Her dark eyes were already watching him, and she slowed her steps. “Good point, Erin,” he said. “Listen, I’ve got to go.” He heard Erin start to say something else as he hung up, squeezing the cell phone in his hand.

  Jill shoved her hands into her coat pockets and stepped up to him. She didn’t lean in and kiss him or try to hug him, and he wondered why he was only noticing that now, as it had been so long since they’d been close, since they’d made love. Since he’d touched her.

  She stood with only a few inches between them, but the walls they had erected put them in separate universes.

  “How long is this going to take?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, Samuel. I told you you didn’t have to come.” She sounded irritated.

  “Look, I have
a deposition, and I’m cutting it close now.” He checked his watch again. Of course, she’d given him an out, but he couldn’t take it. He’d done that once, and it hadn’t helped him sleep any better. “Come on.” He held up his hand as if to guide her, not touching her. She stared at it, so he started walking and pushed open one of the double glass doors. He gave her a look, as he really didn’t know what else to say to her, and she seemed to pull away from him further as she stepped around him and into the doctor’s office. She didn’t stop but walked up to the reception desk.

  “I called Doctor Watts earlier today,” she said. “My name is Jill Robertson. He asked me to come right in.”

  The woman behind the desk had her hair pulled back in a high ponytail. She reached for a file. “Yes, of course. We’re going to squeeze you right in.” She glanced up at Samuel, who was now standing beside Jill. Maybe she didn’t recognize him, but he had a great memory for faces. “Would you like to have a seat?” she said as he shoved his cellphone into his coat pocket.

  “No, I’ll tag along. That’s why I’m here.”

  “It’s fine,” Jill said to the nurse.

  Jill Robertson was her maiden name. She wasn’t his, not really, not in the way he wanted—the way he’d thought he wanted. Maybe that was the source of some of the hurt she’d been holding on to, too, but then, she’d been the one to not go through with the wedding. He’d been willing, she hadn’t. It had been a wasted trip to Vegas and an even more stressful trip home, all because he’d waited for at least one of his brothers to show up for his wedding and not one of them had, not Ben, Joe, or Logan. He hadn’t invited Jake.

  Samuel followed Jill into the boxlike exam room. She took the gown the nurse left and turned her back to him, undressing and folding her clothes as she pulled it on. He noticed her rounded belly. At twenty-two weeks, she was really starting to show. She left her socks on and put her folded clothes over the arm of the chair, then scooted onto the exam table and waited. Samuel could have taken the chair and sat, and he could have helped her onto the table, too, but he found it easier to stand, to watch.

  “So what’s going on, Jill? Why is this the first time I’m hearing you haven’t been feeling well?” Him starting in on her certainly did nothing to break the icy tension between them.

  Then the door opened and the doctor walked in. He wore tan dress pants, a white dress shirt, and a tie, and he glanced first to Samuel and then Jill as he closed the door. He was a short man compared to Samuel’s six feet, but he was solid, young, with short dark hair. “Samuel, Jill, thanks for coming right in.” He shut the door and put Jill’s file on the counter beside where Samuel stood, then stepped closer to Jill and flashed a penlight in her eyes. “Tell me again, Jill, about your symptoms.”

  “I haven’t felt well, like I’m coming down with the flu. I was dizzy today, and I just don’t feel right—nausea, aches.”

  The doctor inserted the ear thermometer, which beeped. “You have a temperature,” he said. He pulled the blood pressure cuff from the wall, slipped it around her arm, and pumped it up. “How long have you not been feeling well?”

  “A few weeks,” she said. “I thought it was just morning sickness at first.”

  “But you don’t now?” he asked, standing in front of her, just listening to her.

  Jill glanced Samuel’s way, sucked her lower lip between her teeth, and then shook her head. “No, because it’s not just nausea. I feel achy now and shaky, weak. I’ve read everything in the pregnancy books, and this is different.”

  “Why didn’t you say something, Jill?” Samuel said. He couldn’t help himself. He was mad that she had kept this from him. He hated secrets more than anything. So much of what had happened still lingered between them.

  The doctor turned to him and then back to Jill. “I’m going to order a blood test. I want a urine sample and culture, as well. Have you been drinking enough fluids?” He was holding her wrist, staring at his watch.

  Now Samuel felt like crap. He should have been looking after her better instead of ignoring her and leaving her to figure out everything for herself.

  “Yes, but I forget when working sometimes.”

  “You’re still working?” the doctor asked, putting down her wrist.

  “Yes, I’m full time. My hours were just increased.”

  What the hell? “Since when?” Samuel said. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t told him. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.” He gestured toward her, and Jill just watched him and softly sighed.

  “I didn’t want to bother you.”

  Had she really just said that? Now she had that hurt look she always got with him. Sometimes he wished she’d argue with him, stand up to him, but she didn’t fight. She just pulled away.

  “Jill, that’s crap. Why are you working so many hours?”

  The doctor flipped open her chart and scribbled something down, then handed her a lab requisition. “Jill, for now I’d like you to get as much rest as possible. Make sure you go right to the lab from here, and I’ll call you with the results. I’ll put a rush on them.” Then he pulled open the door and left.

  Jill slipped off the exam table, and Samuel reached for the clothes folded over the arm of the chair. “Here, put your pants on.”

  Jill took her maternity jeans and pulled them on. Samuel tossed her sweater on the table behind her.

  “I don’t understand you, Jill. Why didn’t you tell me you were working full time? I thought your hours were cut and that you’re working mostly from home, or has that changed, too?”

  This time she ripped at her gown, pulling it off and tossing it to the exam table in a heap, standing there in her white bra. Her small breasts appeared as if they’d grown again.

  “Why should I tell you?” she snapped. “You’ve been so mad at me, you barely speak to me. You work late every night, and you’re gone when I get up in the morning. I feel as if you’re telling me you don’t want to be bothered by the little things. I don’t even know where we are anymore. I’m scared to say anything to you, and I feel as if I’m walking on eggshells around you, so I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s safer to say nothing at all.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t argue that he hadn’t been a prick, but as hard as he’d been on Jill, he thought worse of himself. “Look I’m sorry…” He started to say he hadn’t meant to be like that, but that would have been a lie.

  She reached for her sweater and shook it out, showing him the first flash of something other than spinelessness. “Look, I know you were upset that your brothers didn’t show up for our wedding. You still are, I can see the hurt, and I know you blamed me. It was because of me, because of Jake.”

  There, she just had to say it. His brother, his little brother, who had moved in on his girl one night after Samuel got cold feet.

  “You decided not to marry me, Jill. That was your choice.”

  She pulled the sweater over her hair and shook her head, watching him softly. “No, Samuel, there’s no way I could marry you, because you’d blame me, and our wedding would always be that memory of when your brothers never showed. No, I’m not going to be that girl.” She gestured between them with her hand. “I love you, Samuel. I shouldn’t, because you’re so moody that at times I worry that one day you’ll decide you want out again, and…” She swallowed and blinked away the dampness filling her eyes. “I can’t go there again, Samuel, watching from the sidelines and being hurt like that again when you let that woman sit on your lap in the bar. It was humiliating and hurtful, as if you were saying I meant nothing to you and you didn’t have the guts to even tell me.” Her voice shook and took on a hurt he hadn’t heard from her before.

  “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he said. “We’ve been through all this if I could go back and undo what I did that night at the bar, I wish I could, but there’s no do overs Jill, we can only move forward.” He shrugged because he wondered if that were in fact true the day he’d picked up Deena, the stacked b
artender who’d filled his nights with some of the best sex he’d ever had. Later, when things settled, he realized he’d already given his heart to Jill—but by then she was with his brother. He still couldn’t believe his brother had given her a shoulder to cry on, but then, he’d been there that night in the bar, tagging along as he always did, a third wheel, before moving in on her. Samuel shut his eyes and shook the thought away as he glanced down at her swollen belly, at the child that could be his or his brother’s. “I’m not the same. You’re not the same,” he said.

  “Aren’t we, though?” she said before looking away, reaching for her coat.

  Instead of answering, he reached for the door, taking a look at the time. “Ah, shit.” He’d never make it back in time unless he ran the entire way, and arriving sweaty wouldn’t look good. He started out the door and glanced back at Jill. “I have to go now. Are you okay to…” He gestured to the paper she was holding.

  “To get my arm stuck with a needle and pee in a cup? I’m pretty sure I can manage that myself.” She brushed past him.

  “Well, I guess I’ll see you at home,” he said to her as he followed her out and she jabbed the button for the elevator. Samuel didn’t have time to wait. “I’m going to take the stairs.”

  She didn’t seem surprised. She looked up at him with such sad eyes and nodded softly. Of course, the only thing that did, as he raced down the stairs, was make him feel like a jerk.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  Jill loved her job at Boeing. She loved spending hours typing data into spreadsheets, analyzing figures, performing all the administrative tasks that went along with her job. It was the type of job that gave her a lot of satisfaction. She loved the fact that her boss had seen what an asset she was to the team, because without her and what she brought to the table in business operations, the team leaders wouldn’t be half as effective. She’d been rewarded with more hours and pay, neither of which she’d shared with Samuel.

 

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