Resting his hands on his knees, she saw Devin take a breath while she held hers. The air in the room shimmered, as if waiting on the cusp of something.
His gaze locked with hers.
“I couldn’t come after you because I was where Betty is. I had cancer.”
Chapter Nine
“Cancer?” Ella stiffened, shock rippling through her body. Cancer? But they’d been married in August. She’d gone to school at the first of September. A few months later they were over. It seemed impossible. He’d been healthy, strong and tanned when she left. The very idea struck fear into her heart, leaving her cold. Cancer. Perhaps the most hated word in the English language. It was utterly wrong to pair it with Devin.
“Yes, cancer. A brain tumor.”
She stared at him, looking at his thick, dark hair, his golden skin, his clear, beautiful blue eyes. Instantly a vision passed through her brain, of Devin, pale, bald, in a hospital bed, tubes and monitors attached to his frail body. The picture seemed to take the life right out of her, sucking it away until she felt like an empty vessel. She couldn’t reconcile the two images. The young man he’d been then, the man before her now—he was so vital, so alive.
“A…A…”
She stammered as her lips refused to form the words. The floor felt odd beneath her feet. Devin had had cancer. And she’d been stuck in a dorm waiting for him to rescue her. Angry that he didn’t at least try. Oh God, if she’d only known, she’d have…
She’d have what? Gone back? Forgotten about the mistake they’d made?
But her heart protested. She would have simply been there to help him. To sit by his side and hold his hand, if nothing else. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could she have comforted him, wondering if he was going to die? Even now, when he was healthy and strong before her, the very idea drained the energy from her body.
“A brain tumor. You can say it, Ella. I’ve been cancer free since Christmas that year.”
Ella felt the floor moving, strangely getting closer as the room began to darken around the edges. She reached out for the side table but missed the edge as she crumpled out of her chair.
“Ell? Oh God, Ell, I never thought you’d faint.” The words seemed to come from far away.
She was dimly aware of being held in his arms as he knelt on the floor. How many seconds had elapsed? Surely not many. She vaguely remembered him saying the words “cancer free” before things started spinning.
Her Dev. So very ill, and she’d known nothing about it. She’d taken his silence for anger—or worse, apathy. Instead he’d been sick, and she felt guilty for even thinking those awful things about him back then.
His arms tightened around her as he held her against his thighs. She pushed up, but that meant her hands were on his chest. His very alive, strong, warm chest. Funny how suddenly she appreciated that fact.
“A brain tumor,” she repeated, knowing she sounded silly but unable to refrain. She lifted her hand and let her fingers touch the rich softness of his hair. She couldn’t imagine him having his head shaved, and she traced his hairline down his temple to his ear. Did he have scars on his scalp? He must. How long had he been in hospital? So many questions.
She closed her eyes as the guilt poured in. Had he read her “Dear Devin” letter while lying in a hospital bed? No wonder he had hated her. The simmering anger she’d felt bubbling beneath his charm that first weekend at the cabin made more sense now.
She opened her eyes and saw his brilliant blue ones watching her patiently. The veneer she’d seen in his gaze was gone, replaced by honesty. This was what he’d been hiding then. So many times she’d felt like he was the same Devin and yet different, like he was holding something back, more of a stranger. This was what he’d been holding on to, protecting.
She’d said goodbye to their marriage, to him, her best friend…and in return he’d fought his cancer all alone. How could she have been so self-absorbed? And why hadn’t he trusted her with it? He had to know she would have been there for him. Or had he thought so little of her that he had written her off as quickly as she had him?
“So now you know,” he said gently, and suddenly he was the boy she’d left behind again. The one who had always stood beside her as they’d grown, who’d refused to tease her like the other kids, who had taken her side more times than she could count. The boy who had taken her fishing and laughed at her when she refused to clean her own catch. It no longer mattered about his wealth, the cabin, wrong impressions. It all faded away until she saw the man she’d always known. Strong and loving.
And they had made a baby together.
Ella felt the magnitude of that fact envelop her soul. This pregnancy had the ability to nearly paralyze her with fear. Everything would change. She’d always been afraid of what having a child would mean to her life. But as she looked up into Devin’s face, she realized this baby, their baby, would be half of him.
Half of him, half of her. It was profound. Would he or she have blue eyes or brown? Dark hair or light? Be right handed or left? So many questions, so many possibilities…
She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Devin’s cheek as she put her arms around his neck. He pulled her close until she was snuggled in on his lap. He wasn’t pushing her away. And this wasn’t about sex. At the cabin and yes, even this morning, it had felt like it was about their physical relationship and getting each other out of their systems—hot and fast and thorough.
One word—cancer—had changed all of that. Having some of the pieces come together had resurrected the bond they’d shared since they had been children.
“I have so many questions,” she whispered in his ear. “And yet, the one thing that I can’t stop thinking is that I should have been here.”
“Yes, you should have.”
The quietly spoken words stung, and a tiny bit of anger sparked. Maybe she should have, but if he didn’t tell her, how could she have known? Surely the blame wasn’t all hers.
“How did… When did you find out? Why didn’t you send for me? I would have come, I swear it.” She kept her voice even, not wanting to pick a fight but needing to know anyway.
Devin sighed, ran his hand down her arm. “Would you, Ella? Are you sure you wouldn’t have run farther away? I didn’t know what to do. I had been feeling off all fall. When I found out, I knew I couldn’t tell you over the phone. I thought it could wait until Thanksgiving when you came home. But before that your letter came. How could I go to you then? I didn’t want you here out of obligation when your letter explained your feelings so clearly.”
Her cheeks reddened because everything he was saying was true. She wanted to stir up some self-righteous defiance but she couldn’t because it made sense. He’d wanted to tell her in person, not give such news over the phone or in a letter. And what had she done? Written a letter, ending their marriage. She’d had her reasons, but right now she felt like the largest coward on the planet.
Just like she was a coward for keeping the baby from him. She lowered her lashes so he wouldn’t see the shame in her eyes. She would tell him. Not at this moment—there were too many other questions right now. But before she went back to Denver. Right now what he deserved was an apology for how she’d gone about things from the beginning.
“I didn’t know what to do. I was scared and…” She took a breath. “And I was wrong. I know that now. I can say I was young and afraid but those are just excuses. I should have come home and told you how I was feeling, and instead I panicked.”
“Would you have felt differently if you’d known I was sick? And how could I know if you were staying out of pity or love? I wanted to fight for you and I didn’t have the energy. Why else did you think I didn’t sign the papers when they first arrived? I wanted to be strong enough to fight. I was buying time.”
“I was waiting for you to come for me, and you never did. I thought you didn’t care—”
“Didn’t care?” Devin pushed her away from him gently so he could look at her square in t
he face. “God, woman. I loved you with everything I was. I loved you, and I wanted to go after you. But the headaches got worse…nearly every morning, and one day I was at the drugstore for something to help and I collapsed and had a seizure.”
A dark shadow seemed to pass over his eyes. “Betty was working that day and was the one who called 911.”
Tears pricked behind Ella’s eyelids. She was aware that they were still crouched on the floor and she offered a shaky smile. “I’m going to break your legs if you keep this up. Let’s go sit.”
She crawled off his lap, instantly feeling the lack of his warm body surrounding her. Her feet were steady now that the initial shock was over, and she held out her hand to him. Dev stood and they went to the bed. Devin sat, leaning back against the headboard and extending his legs, crossing his ankles. She watched him for a few moments, understanding how Betty fit into things now, knowing she had a story to write and feeling she had no right to tell it. She was good at not getting personally involved—she’d made a career of it. But this was beyond empathy, and she was sure being objective was impossible.
“Dev, I…” Ella stared at the plump mattress, wanting to go to him. Her head was shouting at her that the dining table would be a better, more neutral location. She hesitated, looked from the table and chairs back to Devin again.
He smiled his slow, slightly crooked smile. “I won’t bite, sweetheart.” His eyes shone at her, a little mischievous but utterly sincere. It was a combination Ella could not defend herself against. “Come sit with me, and I’ll tell you everything.”
She hesitated at the side of the bed, and then he patted the coverlet with his hand in invitation. Ella sat beside him, tucking her legs to the side on the mattress, resting her weight on her hand. She met his gaze. “Tell me everything. Make me understand.”
For several seconds his gaze held her prisoner. “I’m not sure you will. I was angry for a long time.”
“Are you still angry?”
Finally he broke eye contact, turning his head away. “Sometimes.”
Apology had never come easily to Ella. It had always made her feel weak. It was confessing you’d made a mistake, made a wrong decision, and she hated that feeling. But today she knew she owed Devin an apology. Should they have stayed married? She only knew she’d done what she thought was right at the time. But how she’d done it was wrong. She’d realized it the first weekend they’d spent together. To argue the point now would only be false pride and needing to be right. If nothing else, she got the feeling that tonight was a time for unvarnished truth.
“I’m sorry, Dev. I’m sorry I left our marriage through a letter. If I was old enough to say ‘I do’ I should have been mature enough to face you when I thought we’d made a mistake. It was the wrong way to go about it. Things should have been said.”
The silence spun out while Ella’s stomach twisted with nerves. She and Devin had shared their innermost secrets growing up. But when it truly mattered—when it was their relationship at stake—neither of them had found the words. Maybe that was why they’d never been able to completely let go. It had nothing to do with legal papers and starting over. It had to do with finishing things first.
Now it would never be truly finished, she realized. They’d be forever joined by their child. The shaft of panic was immediately followed by a warmth she didn’t quite understand.
“Before I explain any of this, I want your word it won’t appear in print.”
Ella hesitated, saw his jaw tighten as she said nothing for several seconds. She knew what her assignment had been. And she knew the story would make good copy. But she also knew this wasn’t an interview. This was Devin, confiding in her. “I promise.”
He seemed to accept her oath. “When I was first diagnosed, I was sure it was a mistake,” Devin began softly, still not looking at her. “My mother and father were there for the surgery. They knew about the letter you’d sent and I made them promise they wouldn’t contact you.” He looked at her then, raised an eyebrow the slightest bit while a sad smile played on his lips. “Parents tend to take those things seriously when they think their child might be dying.”
Ella remembered the one time in mid-November she’d tried calling the cabin, but there had been no answer. She’d wondered where Devin could be so late at night. She’d taken it as a sign their marriage was truly over and that he was already moving on—out for a night on the town. Now she realized he’d likely been in the hospital. Had he been in pain? Had he felt alone or had he been surrounded by those who loved him?
“They did my surgery right away. I was lucky. The tumor was removable and the after-effects were as good as we could have hoped for. But it was malignant and so once I was recovered enough, I had to have radiation.” He smiled a little, adding a humorless laugh. “They’d already shaved my head. At least I didn’t have to worry about my hair falling out, right? Although radiation is horribly hard on the skin.”
The matter-of-fact words were sprinkled with cynicism. Ella didn’t even realize she was crying until he finished speaking. Her cheeks felt wet and Devin sat up a bit, reached out and wiped away the moisture with his thumbs. “Don’t cry. It doesn’t matter now. Treatment was successful, obviously. And if it hadn’t happened, maybe I’d never have built DMQ. All it cost me was my marriage.”
The words were said with such bitterness that Ella had to turn away. She’d been afraid, sure. But it must have been so much worse for him. She should have been there. She should have come home to talk about it. At least then she would have known, and could have helped. The ache inside flashed once more with a little anger of her own. All he would have had to do was pick up the phone, drop her a note, send her an email. Yes, she’d been wrong. But so had he. He couldn’t blame her for not being there when she’d had no idea of the situation.
“I made a mistake,” she replied, wiping her fingers over her cheeks to get rid of the last dregs of her crying. “But so did you. You could have let me know. You could have let your mother call me and I would have come. For God’s sake, I didn’t hate you.”
“You turned your back on our marriage.”
“I was afraid. And that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have been there for you. I never stopped caring or…”
He leaned forward, slid a hand around her back and pulled her closer along the soft mattress, so that their chests nearly met. The candles on the table still flickered, casting shadows through the room now that evening was approaching.
“Or what, Ell?”
But she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit that she never stopped loving him. It put everything too much in the present, far too close.
“Or nothing,” she murmured, looking down at the white bedspread. “I just wish you’d told me. It’s a heck of a secret to keep. When I think of you, so ill, it’s like someone’s ripped a hole in my stomach, leaving this empty place behind. How did you ever convince your parents to promise?”
“They were so angry with you for leaving in the first place, it wasn’t hard. All I had to do was show them your letter. Then I made them swear on a Bible.”
Ella’s face flamed. The letter she’d written to Dev, pouring out her insecurities, covering them up with protests that they’d made a horrible mistake and she didn’t want to be married to him anymore. That foolish, foolish letter. It was no wonder she had never heard from Mr. and Mrs. McQuade. That had hurt too, giving up the couple that had been the closest thing to two parents she’d ever known. The best example she’d had of how a marriage and family were supposed to work.
“How can you blame me for not being there when you wouldn’t even tell me the truth? Did you hate me that much?”
Dev ran his hand through his hair, sighing, feeling on edge for the umpteenth time today. God Almighty, it had taken everything he had not to beg her to come back. But if he had, he would have always wondered why she’d done it. Would it have been out of love or sympathy? And he hadn’t known what the prognosis would be. He’d wanted to protect her
from the ugliness of hospitals and continuous treatments. Hell, maybe he should have set her free when she sent the divorce papers each time. But the truth was he’d wanted, needed, her to come to him and ask face-to-face.
“That was why I didn’t come after you. I was too sick, too weak to fight—I was fighting for my life instead. I was not the man you’d married.”
“And so that’s why you stepped in and helped Betty.”
“Yes. She helped me that day in the drugstore and she helped me in the days after. She brought me pie she’d made and books from the library. She visited me in the hospital and held the cup and straw for me when I was too weak to do it for myself. She became like, I don’t know, like a favorite aunt. She cared, and now I have my chance to finally repay that favor. I know what it is like to be afraid you are dying and then be burdened with the knowledge that you can’t pay for any of it. If I can spare her that concern, I’m happy to do it.
“You didn’t have any insurance either.”
He shook his head, remembering getting the diagnosis and wondering where the money was going to come from. Wondering if he’d die before he could get proper treatment. “Not for that. You know my parents. Hell, we both grew up on the edges of poor. Whatever we had was the bare minimum.”
It was true. The main difference in their families wasn’t annual income. Instead it was the love they all seemed to share and a sense of family that she and her mother had never quite accomplished, it being just the two of them scraping by. Ella had never felt unequal next to Devin in her thrift store jeans and cheap T-shirts. Other girls were concerned with labels and having the latest “in” thing, but not Ella. There hadn’t been money for that. Her mother had worked two jobs just to keep a roof over their heads. Devin had slightly better clothes, but there was no money for flash. He’d never judged her for it, and to her, he’d been the most gorgeous boy in school.
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