by Len Webster
“The doctor’s on his way,” Randleman stated.
“Thank you,” Sam said. He knew he was being difficult, but the constable didn’t understand. Sam had to be with her. Tell her he was sorry. Tell her he loved her.
He had to tell her goodbye.
Moments later, a doctor in blue scrubs with a white coat over them had entered the autopsy room.
“Good evening. I’m Doctor Russel. I’ve been asked to assist you,” he said. The elderly doctor reached into his pocket and took out his glasses. He put them on as he picked up the clipboard on the steel bench.
“Sir, we’d like to formally identify a body,” Randleman requested.
“Name?” The doctor was straight to the point.
“Meredith Driessen,” Sam said. If anyone was going to say her name, he was.
The doctor nodded and glanced down at the clipboard. Then he flicked through the pages and hummed. He said nothing as he went over to the phone on the bench, picked it up, and pressed a button. Then he held it against his ear.
“Has one of the bodies been moved from autopsy?” Doctor Russel asked. “Meredith Driessen … I’d like to know immediately the next time that happens … Yes, it is upsetting for the families. Thank you.” The doctor set the phone back on its hook and then turned to face him and Randleman. “Constable, outside with me, please.”
The doctor hadn’t even waited. He left the second he had finished saying please.
“Why does he want to see you outside?” Sam asked.
“Sam.” It was the first time Randleman had said his first name. “I’m going to be a hundred percent honest with you so you can prepare yourself. He’d only ever ask to see me outside if the body was beyond recognisable. Miss Driessen may not look like the woman you remember.”
His heart felt as if it were being scraped by a fork.
Again.
And again.
He understood what Randleman was saying.
He just didn’t want to believe it.
Sam watched as the police officer walked out of autopsy. He heard their muffled voices. At that moment, Sam realised where he stood. Behind one of the steel doors, lying on the table, was the remains of his father.
Sam felt nothing towards him.
His son, Josh, was safe.
Beth could live without fear.
Bruce had deserved death.
Sam would never lose a night’s worth of sleep over him being gone.
No.
He would lose sleep over Meredith.
Over the life they were supposed to share together.
Over the years they had been apart.
“Mr Michaels,” Doctor Russel said. Sam hadn’t even heard him make any noise as he had entered the autopsy room. “Please follow me.”
The first step Sam had taken had been full of determination. The second had been full of fear. He was going to see her lifeless body. He was going to identify her.
But he was scared.
Sam didn’t want to see her.
To see what his father had done to her.
No.
He would not be a coward.
Being a coward had him losing her.
This was about being the man he should have been for her.
Sam followed the doctor. When Sam had stepped out into the hallway, Randleman was nowhere to be found. But he didn’t care; his thoughts were of seeing Meredith. Sam’s eyes stung as he thought of the last time he saw her smile.
That was the vision of her he would remember.
Not the one he was about to see.
She wouldn’t want him to remember her that way.
From now on, when he closed his eyes, he’d see her.
Her smiling.
Her laughing.
Her being alive.
Meredith Driessen had left him.
She was the sun, and she had set for the last time.
He was the moon—missing her and always waiting for her.
When they reached the elevator, Doctor Russel pressed the up arrow, and the elevator opened immediately. Stepping inside, the doctor pressed the third-floor button before soft jazz consumed the square steel box they occupied.
Sam had kept his eye firmly on the screen that changed with each floor they had passed.
The first.
The second.
And finally, the doors opened to the third.
Releasing the deep breath of air he’d held, Sam stepped onto the third floor and followed the doctor down the busy hall. Nurses. Doctors. Police officers. Patients. Paramedics. There were people everywhere.
But that didn’t matter because when the doctor passed the nurse’s desk, he’d taken a right down another hall. Sam felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, but he ignored it. The last person who called him was Margot, and he had ignored her call. Sam didn’t blame her. But right now, he had no energy or desire to rid her of her guilt for what she had said to Meredith.
The last words she had ever said to Meredith.
Then Doctor Russel entered a room.
Sam glanced back towards the start of the hall to see that no one had followed them. It appeared they’d gone down a hallway of rooms filled with hospital beds.
When Sam had reached the room at the end of the hall, his chest tightened at the white sheet that covered her body.
His breathing laboured as tears filled his eyes. Sam took a shaky step inside.
Then another.
And another.
“Meredith,” he whispered.
epilogue
SAM
Three years later
“Mr Michaels, you have that meeting with the Minister for Health at eleven,” Harris, his newly hired young speechwriter, reminded.
Samuel Michaels nodded.
The Labor Party had lost the election two months ago.
And it meant a reshuffle in the cabinet.
But not everyone lost their seats at the election.
Sam had been elected into Parliament in the Legislative Assembly seat of Hendon—the voting district for Warren Meadows and the surrounding suburbs. Weeks after the party’s loss, Sam had been appointed Shadow Parliamentary Secretary for Health.
It was a mouthful to say, but he had done it. He was no longer a speechwriter. He was a politician. And he had made history. He had become the youngest secretary in Victorian Parliamentary history.
Twenty-nine.
“Thanks, Harris. I’ll drop the flowers off. I won’t be too long,” Sam said as he adjusted his red tie.
Today was his first day as a secretary, assisting his new boss, the Shadow Minister for Health, Richard Alistair. But first, he had to make a pit stop. Now that he lived closer to the city, he wasn’t in Warren Meadows often enough outside of his campaigning.
Sam grasped the bouquet of long-stemmed sunflowers with a smile. His life had a calm that he enjoyed. His son, Josh, was now in grade three and had just turned nine. He still had his mother’s attitude, too.
Sam was sure he’d grow out of it.
Not embrace it.
But the kid could do no wrong.
Beth had quit her publicist job at James Publishing and become a literary agent at a New York agency. She now represented a long list of New York Times bestsellers and emerging authors. With her career taking her back and forth from Melbourne to New York, Josh lived with Sam permanently, although he still spent time with his mother when she was home. During the school holidays, she had taken him to New York with her. At first, it had been hard for Josh to adapt with his mother’s constant flying. But he had learnt to deal with it, especially when she had gotten him Chris Evans’ autograph. The same Chris Evans who had played Captain America in the Marvel action movies.
In the last three years, Sam had continued with his life.
His relationship with his son only strengthened. Sam and Beth never again had to worry about Josh being taken away. Sam’s claim as Josh’s biological father would never be contested. There were no more fears. Their son could grow up being happy and safe.
Sam raised his wrist to take in the time on his watch. It was a watch Josh and Beth had gotten him as a victory present when he’d made it into Parliament. Sam noticed that he was earlier than planned. But he did have that meeting that he didn’t want to be late for, so it was perfect timing. He grasped the flowers tighter as he continued his steps. His body knew where to go before his mind could process where he was. It took him seconds to be where he needed to be.
Sam took a deep breath and smiled as he laid the sunflowers down.
“Good morning, Meredith,” he said in a soft voice.
He still loved her.
After all this time.
There was no one who could ever claim his heart but her.
The glimmer of a yellow diamond had his heart clenching then relaxing.
“Good morning to you, too. But I’m pretty sure I kissed you goodbye before I got ready for work. What are you doing here? I thought you were headed back to the city. You have a big day today,” his fiancée said as she picked up the bouquet and smiled. Then she set them aside and stood up.
Meredith Driessen, soon-to-be Meredith Michaels, walked around the teacher’s desk until she stood in front of him. Sam didn’t hesitate as he extended his arms and wrapped them around her, bringing her against his chest. Her arms instantly looped around his neck.
“I couldn’t leave until I saw you,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to hers.
Kissing her never got boring.
No one kissed the way his fiancée did.
It had been three years since his father, Bruce, had tried to kill her. But as they had stood at the train tracks, Bruce had had a change of heart and pushed Meredith clear of the oncoming train. Meredith had fallen back and hit her head. The impact of his push and her landing against the boom gates had caused internal bleeding.
She had technically been dead for three minutes after the paramedics had reached her. When she arrived at the hospital, she had a weak pulse and shallow breathing. While Sam had been waiting to identify his father’s belongings, she had been in surgery.
Sam had thought she died.
Everyone thought she had died.
But she had fought hard to hold on.
And she had lived.
When he had followed Doctor Russell into the hospital room, he was shocked to find Meredith unconscious in the bed. He had raced to her bedside and grasped her hand. She was slightly cold, but she was alive. It took Meredith a long time before she stopped having nightmares and eventually overcame them. It was a slow recovery, but he had been there every single day. She had even seen a therapist to talk about her attack by his father, and her rape when she was sixteen.
Every panic attack she had, he was by her side.
Every tear she cried when she had remembered, he had wiped away.
But even though he was determined to take care of her, she was the one who helped him overcome his anger with his father. She had taught him to forget. And in turn, she had been a driving force in his political career.
“God, could you two get any grosser?” Margot gagged.
Meredith laughed against his lips as she pulled back. “Trying to get me in trouble with temporary Assistant Principal Hall?”
“All right, Michaels, I need my teacher back. She has a lesson to prepare. She’s about to teach the brand new preps!”
Sam swung his glare in Margot Hall’s direction. She had her auburn hair tied back into a curly ponytail, and she had a smirk plastered on her lips. Sam would have to ask his best friend, Phil, to tell his wife to back off. After Meredith had gained consciousness and was given the okay to see visitors, Margot had been the first. She had apologised profusely and revealed that she had no idea how to live a life without her. She was ashamed to have told so many people of Meredith’s rape.
Meredith had shaken her head and said there was nothing to forgive.
They had and always would be best friends.
“Margot, mind giving us a minute?” Sam asked, raising his brow.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but don’t be too long.” Then she had closed Meredith’s classroom door.
When he was sure Margot wouldn’t interrupt, Sam returned his focus to his beautiful fiancée.
The absolute love of his life.
The woman who had endured death because of him.
Yesterday, he had proposed to her by the river in the reserve. They had stayed at her parents’ house in Warren Meadows, not wanting to drive back to the inner city suburbs home they owned together. The home they shared with his son, Josh. Outside the classroom, his son called her by her first name. And as always, Josh loved visiting Meredith’s parents and her dog, Dutch, after school every day before they commuted back to the city. The two messages she had left on his voicemail remained. Whenever they had a stupid fight, he’d listen to them, remembering how close he was to losing her.
He’d always apologise.
Because it was always his fault.
And she was always right.
Meredith fluttered her lips over his in a chaste kiss. “I love you, Samuel Michaels,” she whispered.
He’d never grow tired of those words.
Each time she said them, it was as if his entire world had stopped, telling him to remember and cherish this moment.
“I love you, Meredith Michaels,” he said in a low voice.
She smiled, her eyes softening in colour. “Soon, my love. Soon.”
Sam dropped his arms from around her waist and then grasped her left hand. He stared at the yellow diamond on her finger. He’d gotten a custom designed ring. It was simple. It was a white gold sunflower engagement ring with a yellow diamond in the centre, similar to her sunflower necklace. Sam brought the ring to his lips and kissed it.
For several hours of his life, he had lived thinking she had been taken away from him.
And when he looked back on those hours, he cherished the hours he got to spend with her after it all.
Because Sam had the life he never thought he could have.
He was engaged to the love of his life.
He had the greatest son in the world.
His son loved Meredith.
His son’s mother was a wonderful woman.
His best friends, Margot and Phil, were happily and annoyingly married.
And he was now a politician.
His life was where it was supposed to be.
Though it would be sweeter if Meredith were his wife at that moment—and a second child came into the picture—he was happy to wait until she was ready to give him another son or daughter and give Josh a brother or sister.
He had waited seven years to be with her, and she had been his girlfriend for three years, so he was happy to wait just that little bit longer for her to be a mother.
“You are the first touch of sunlight I ever felt,” he informed her as he let go of her hand and then cupped her face. His thumb swiping against her soft skin. “You’re my first and last touch of sunlight.”
And there it was.
The most beautiful smile he had ever seen grace her face.
Their love had endured and survived many hardships, but Sam knew that they were finally where they were meant to be.
In the three years that had passed them, Sam had learnt many things.
About his son.
About the love of his life and his first and only sunlight, Meredith.
About his career.
About life.
But one thing was certain …
You may never know tomorrow’s sunlight if you’re drowning in yesterday’
s storm.
The Theory of Unrequited
Atomic number: 8
Name of chemical element: Oxygen
Symbol: O
Every theory has a test subject—even between best friends.
The pact: Stanford.
The betrayal: AJ attending Duke.
The reason: She did something stupid like fall in love with Evan.
The problem: Evan’s not ready to let this betrayal go so easily.
The solution: Show up unannounced at Duke and demand a resolution.
The Theory of Unrequited
Book one in the Science of Unrequited series.
A brand new romance series from the bestselling author of Sometimes Moments, coming soon to 2017.
Read on for an excerpt of AJ and Evan’s upcoming story.
Prologue I
AJ
Before I left for college, I made him a promise that I’d meet him in L.A. after his Vegas trip. I promised we’d drive to Stanford together and we’d remain best friends all through college and nothing would change.
We’d be the same.
I broke all those promises.
I moved into my dorm room at Duke the minute I was supposed to meet him.
I traded California sun for North Carolinian clarity.
Because I needed a lot of clarity to forget Evan.
It doesn’t help that I carry this one picture of us wearing Colorado Rockies baseball caps when we’re, by default, Red Sox fans. We thought we’d go unnoticed and his brother would never see. Too bad we were on the jumbo screen seconds after we sat down.
It’s the only picture of us I brought with me to North Carolina.
It’s a picture that represented a happier time.
A time where I was content with being known as Evan’s best friend, unaware that I would fall in love with him and ruin everything about us.
Absolutely everything.
How could anyone be so unaware?
So tragically unaware that when someone looks at you, it’s nothing but love they plead in your eyes?
