“In sickness and in health, until death do us part. Whether or not you were capable of walking—whether or not you could see—I would not...I repeat... I would not leave you!”
“Yeah, right,” he said, dragging his cast-free hand through his hair.
Megan got to her feet and went to stand directly in front of Ben.
“What are you trying to say, Ben?” she said. “That you wouldn’t stand by me if I couldn’t walk, or couldn’t see? That you’d leave me?”
“Damn it, of course not, but this is different. I’m a man,” he yelled, thumping himself on the chest. “I have my pride, you know. I’m supposed to be big, strong, able to protect you, take care of you. How in the hell can I do that if I’m blind?”
“And what about my pride as a woman if I suddenly couldn’t walk, or see? Tell me, Ben. Why are there different rules that pertain to you?”
“That’s just the way it is, Megan!”
“And that’s just a bunch of macho bull, Ben Rizzoli,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “And you’re too intelligent to buy into it.” She took a shuddering breath. “Do you want to know what I think? Don’t answer that because I’m going to tell you anyway.”
Unwelcome tears filled her eyes.
“I think,” she said, her voice suddenly hushed, “that you don’t really understand love, what it means, what it’s capable of doing, how strong and fierce it can be.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t live like this anymore, Ben,” she said, two tears spilling onto her pale cheeks. “I’m playing games, for heaven’s sake, to enable me to be with you. That’s not honest, and I hate it. It’s also useless, because you see my love as something that will slip through your fingers like grains of sand when troubles disturb that sand.
“No, Ben, you just don’t understand love—my love for you. My words, my being here with you, mean nothing. It’s all in the now to you, just the now. That’s not enough for me. I want a future, a forever, with you. Whether you can see, or not see. Walk, or not walk. Hear, or not hear. Talk, or not talk. It doesn’t matter. Ben, because I love you. But you...you just don’t understand love.”
“Megan—”
“I’m leaving, Ben.”
“Megan, no, I—”
“You what? Want to marry me? Ask me to be your wife no matter what happens to your eyesight? Well?”
Ben opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again, shaking his head.
“I’ll...I’ll take what I need for tonight,” Megan said, unable to stop the flow of tears streaming down her face and along her neck. “I’ll come for the rest of my things when you’re away at the office.”
Megan ran across the room and up the stairs.
Ben turned to stare into the dwindling flames in the hearth.
When Megan returned carrying a small suitcase and wearing Andrea’s borrowed jacket, she hesitated by the front door. “Goodbye, Ben,” she said, her voice trembling.
As the click of the door being closed behind Megan reverberated through the air, Ben spun around.
“Megan?” he said.
But there was only silence in reply.
“Damn it.”
He turned again to look into the hearth, only then realizing that his eyes were filled with tears.
Chapter Fourteen
You just don’t understand love.
During the next three days and long, lonely nights, Megan’s words pounded against Ben’s mind.
Not understand love? The hell he didn’t. He was putting Megan first, setting her free to have everything she deserved, and ignoring his own desire to keep her by his side.
You just don’t understand love.
Ben sighed and sank onto a bench beneath an enormous tree on the town square. He was spending his lunch hour away from the office, having had enough of Sharon and Cynthia’s sympathetic glances.
Hell, he thought, taking a bite of a fast-food hamburger, the whole town was probably buzzing, speculating as to why Megan Chastain had suddenly left Ben Rizzoli and moved into Hamilton House.
He knew that was where Megan was staying. Six of his patients had mentioned that fact, then waited eagerly to see if he would provide any grist for the gossip mill. His consistent comment was “Mmm.”
Now what? he asked himself, taking a drink of soda. It was high noon on the fourth day since Megan had made her damnable accusation. Then left him. Tears streaming down her pale face. Sounding as though her heart was breaking.
Ben stared at the half-eaten hamburger in his hand, then shoved it into the paper sack, his appetite gone.
He’d hurt Megan, made her cry. He’d sworn he would never cause her pain, but he had, he truly had.
But he’d done the right thing.
You just don’t understand love.
So, okay, suppose that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t understand love. What wasn’t he getting a grip on? What was causing him and Megan to be miles apart on the complicated subject?
Tired of chasing his own thoughts in circles, Ben got to his feet and walked to the opposite side of the tree where he tossed the sack in a trash container.
On the other side of the square beneath another huge tree he saw Professor Wilson sitting in his wheelchair reading a magazine.
An attractive woman, who appeared to be in her late forties, approached the professor with both hands behind her back.
With a smile she brought her hands forward, revealing two ice-cream cones. Professor Wilson took one of the cones, then slipped his hand to the nape of the woman’s neck and pulled her close for a kiss.
Ben spun around and walked away, his mind racing.
An ice-cream cone, he thought. He hadn’t been able to hear what Professor Wilson and his wife had said to each other, but what had transpired between them shouted their mutual love to the rooftops.
That woman had married Professor Wilson, knowing he was paralyzed. She’d pledged her love to the man, not caring that he couldn’t walk, stand tall and strong beside her, protect her from harm. Who he was as a person had outweighed his infirmity.
Ben stopped and turned to look back at the professor and his wife. She had settled onto a bench next to the wheelchair. They were licking their cones and chatting, pointing upward occasionally as though they might be watching for glimpses of birds.
There is an aura of peacefulness about them, Ben thought, starting off again. Of rightness. Of love.
You just don’t understand love.
Whether you can see, or not see. Walk, or not walk. Hear, or not hear. Talk, or not talk...it doesn’t matter because I love you.
“Dr. Rizzoli!”
Ben stopped at the sudden sound of his name and saw a pretty, smiling young woman hurrying toward him.
“I’m so glad I saw you,” she said when she reached him. “Brian and I just received the picture of our match, the baby that’s been chosen for us by the Chinese officials in Beijing to be our daughter. We leave for China next week. Look, here she is.”
Ben stared at a picture of a solemn baby with hair sticking up in all directions and little fists tucked tightly beneath her chin.
“Congratulations, Janie,” he said, smiling. “She’s a cutie.”
Janie laughed. “No, she looks like an angry old man, but we think she’s beautiful. We love her already, because she’s ours in every sense of the word. I’m off to buy baby clothes. ’Bye.”
“Goodbye,” Ben said quietly, resuming his walk.
That couple had been through hell, he mused. They’d undergone endless tests and countless attempts to have a child. It was finally determined that Brian had an unusual condition that hadn’t been detected at first. For all practical purposes, Brian was sterile, and would never be able to give Janie a child.
But Janie still loved Brian. And now their dream was coming true in the form of that funny little kid from China, their daughter.
You just don’t understand love.
Ben ran his fingertips over his
now throbbing forehead, glanced at his watch, then headed for his vehicle.
It was time to get back to work. The afternoon would be busy, then he’d go home to what was once again just a house, a place to eat, sleep, stare into the fire in the hearth. A place filled with haunting memories of what had been, but no longer was.
Memories of Megan.
If he was blind, he would still, forever and always, be able to see her clearly in his mind as she nestled close to him on the sofa. He would still be able to savor her fresh-air-and-flowers aroma, hear her laughter, make sweet, sweet love to her through the hours of the night.
If he was blind, they would share, talk, care. He’d tell. her how his lecture classes had gone that day. She’d relate the latest doing of her chickens, or whatever career she had chosen to pursue.
If he was blind, he could hold their adopted child in his arms, tell him stories, quiet his fears, be there for him as he grew up. He could tuck him in at night and assure his son that Daddy was there to keep the monsters beneath the bed at bay.
If he was blind, he would still be Ben Rizzoli.
And Megan Chastain would still love him, the person, the man.
This was the love that Megan had been struggling to get him to understand.
Ben slid behind the wheel of his vehicle, put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. He sat perfectly still, waiting for the voices in his mind to begin the barrage of reasons why Megan could not be his, why the future could not be theirs to share.
But there was only a peaceful silence, combined with a warmth that filled him, slowly, gently, touching his heart, mind, his very soul.
The war within him was over.
The battle was won.
He had conquered the anger, self-pity, the frustration and despair about his fate.
He did have a future that would be rich, and real, and fulfilling. He did have a purpose, a reason for being, something of value to offer as a teacher.
And now? Ben thought, starting the engine. Now he had to hope and pray that Megan would forgive him for the pain he’d caused her, would agree to be his wife, adopt a child with him, bring her sunshine into his world, not only in their now, but in their forever.
At six o’clock that night Ben entered the lobby of Hamilton House, carrying a small paper sack. He strode to the registration desk where Brandon was replacing the receiver to the telephone.
“It’s about time you showed up, Rizzoli,” Brandon said, glaring at Ben. “What took you so long?”
“I had some things I had to work through,” Ben said quietly. “I just hope I’m not too late.”
“Women’s minds are beyond my comprehension,” Brandon said. “All you can do is be honest and speak from your heart.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “I assume you’ve got your head on straight, and are ready to ask Megan to marry you?”
“That’s the plan,” Ben said, nodding. “But I’m a wreck. I blew it, Brandon, big time.”
“Yep.”
“Is Megan in her room?”
“Yep.”
“She’s been...well, really sad since she checked in here?”
“Yep.”
“Damn it, Brandon, quit saying yep. What room is Megan in?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Brandon said. “It’s against hotel policy to give out a guest’s room number.”
“Hamilton,” Ben said, “I’ll never be able to cut my own meat if I break my other hand punching you out, but that’s exactly what’s gomg to happen if you don’t tell me where Megan is.”
“She’s in room four-twenty-two,” Andrea said from behind Ben.
Ben spun around, nearly bumping into Andrea.
“Some rules have to be broken in the cause of true love,” Andrea said, then kissed Ben on the cheek. “Go. Good luck.”
“Ditto,” Brandon said.
“Thanks,” Ben muttered, then hurried toward the elevator.
Megan turned off the blow-dryer and heard someone knocking on her door. She tightened the sash on the thigh-length, white terry-cloth robe she wore and hurried to answer the summons. She began speaking even as she was flinging open the door.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear over the—Ben!” Megan’s eyes widened and her heart began to race. “Ben?”
“Hello, Megan,” he said quietly.
There she was, Ben thought, the woman he loved with all his heart She was beautiful.
Her hair was shiny, curling softly around her face, flushed a lovely pink from a recent shower. Those big, blue eyes were looking directly at him, making it difficult to breathe, to think straight.
This was it. What transpired in the next few minutes would determine his destiny. He would have a warm, sunshine future with Megan, or he would be alone in a world of cold darkness.
“May I come in?” he said.
“Oh. Well, yes. Yes, of course.”
Megan stepped back to allow Ben to enter the room, closed the door, then leaned against it for support as she became acutely aware of the trembling of her legs.
Ben, her mind hummed. Her beloved Ben was there. Wearing dark slacks and a pale blue dress shirt open at the neck, he was magnificent. Oh, how she loved him, had missed him, had ached for the sight, and feel, and aroma of him.
Ben was there.
But why?
Ben turned in the center of the room and met Megan’s gaze.
“I’d like to talk to you, Megan,” he said. “Please. Could we sit down?”
“Yes.”
Megan motioned toward an easy chair, then went to the edge of the bed, sinking onto it gratefully. Ben sat in the chair, rested his elbows on his knees and held the paper sack in both hands.
“You look...” they said in unison.
“Go ahead,” Megan said.
“I was going to say that you look wonderful,” Ben said.
“Oh, well, thank you.” Megan smiled slightly. “I was going to say that you look terrible, exhausted.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t been sleeping too great. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’ve missed you, Megan.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Ben,” she said softly.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, caused you pain, made you cry,” he said. “I swore I would never do that, but I sure as hell did.” He took a shuddering breath and tightened his hold on the sack, despite the cumbersome cast. “I love you, Megan. Do you believe that?”
“Yes, I do, but—”
“I know. You couldn’t live in just the now anymore, and I was convinced that was all I had to offer you. You said I didn’t understand love.”
“I didn’t mean to be harsh, Ben.”
“No, no, you were right. I didn’t understand love, what it really meant, how powerful it was, how it was capable of coping with tremendous obstacles and adversities.”
Megan nodded, then told herself to breathe as she felt a pain in her chest.
“I made the whole concept of love too complicated,” Ben went on, his voice slightly raspy. “I mixed everything up together—my not being able to see someday, not being able to give you a child because of this menace hanging over me, everything I could never be for you.”
“Oh, Ben,” Megan said, blinking away sudden tears.
“Love is complex,” Ben said. “But then again, it’s not. It’s very simple.” He shook his head. “Damn, I’m not making any sense.”
“Yes, yes, you are.”
“Megan, I think I probably fell in love with you the moment I found you in the woods. I loved you when you had no idea who you were, or what your personal circumstances were.
“I loved you when you got your memory back and you were so frightened about what Chastain was going to do.
“I loved you when I broke my hand decking that creep, and when you gathered your courage and stepped away from me so that you could close the door on your past while standing on your own two feet.
“Why did I love you despite all the changes you were going through, the events happening around yo
u? Because you were still my Megan, the person, the woman. That’s the simplistic beauty of the complexity of love.”
Megan nodded, then dashed two tears from her cheeks.
“When I’m blind, Megan,” Ben said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “I’ll still be Ben Rizzoli, the person, the man you fell in love with. I’ll teach the doctors of tomorrow. I’ll hold the child we adopt in my arms and make certain he feels loved and safe. I’ll make love with you as I’ve always done, reverently, lovingly. I’ll still be Ben. Your Ben, if you’ll have me.
“Megan, I’m asking you to forgive me for hurting you, for taking so long to understand love the way you do. I’m asking you to marry me, be my wife, for better, for worse, in sickness and in health, until death parts us in this world as we know it.
“Will ... will you many me?”
Megan flew off the bed and ran to where Ben sat. He dropped the sack and opened his arms just in time to catch her as she flung herself at him. He shifted her quickly across his lap, and she encircled his neck with her arms.
“Yes,” she said, smiling through her tears. “Oh, yes, Ben Rizzoli, I’ll marry you. I love you so very much.”
“Thank God,” he whispered. He closed his eyes for a long moment, then made no attempt to conceal the tears shimmering in his dark eyes when he looked at Megan again. “I love you, Megan, with all that I am, all that I’ll be...forever.”
Their lips met, tasting of salty tears. It was a kiss of forgiveness and commitment, of battles won and the sweet victory that was theirs. It was a kiss that spoke of a future together, dealing with all the joys and sorrows life would bring to them. It was a kiss of desire burning hotter with every beat of their racing hearts.
Ben broke the kiss to fumble with the sash on Megan’s robe, then pushed aside the soft material to find her naked beneath. A groan rumbled deep in his chest.
He paid homage to one of her breasts as Megan flung her head back, eyes closed, as she savored the exquisite, sensuous sensations coursing through her. Ben moved to her other breast and she sighed in pure, feminine pleasure.
Ben raised his head. “I want you, Megan.”
“Yes,” she said, meeting his smoldering gaze. “I want you, too. So much.”
The Most Eligible M.D. (The Bachelor Bet #3) Page 17
