by Risk, Mona
Mary-Beth glanced at her friend and fiddled with the phone still clutched in her hand.
“I mean, why come to France when your secret flame is still at home in the U.S.? It’s not like you to run away.” Jennifer focused a sharp look on her—too sharp. “Oh my God. He can’t be… Yves? Oh, my God, sweetie. It makes sense. Yves, Steve. The names sound close enough. No wonder your fiancé didn’t notice. But where have you met Dr. Malroux before?”
Mary-Beth raised her head. “In Boston. When he came for three summers in a row. Don’t get any illusions. Dr. Malroux went for glamorous women, not plump, nerdy, chocolate-munching students. Nerds like me were not his type.” She couldn’t control the bitterness in her voice.
“So he never knew you loved him?”
“I wish. Somehow, he granted me one night. The most beautiful night of my life. I was stupid enough to tell him I loved him. I never saw him again.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Jennifer hugged her. “I feel like crying.”
“What for?” Mary-Beth returned her hug and stiffened. “I cried for a year and then I stopped rehashing the one-night stand.”
“That’s when you accepted Steve’s consolation.”
“Don’t be naïve. Steve wouldn’t have looked at me back then. Before I lost weight.”
A glint of pity glimmered in Jennifer’s eyes. Mary-Beth shrugged. “I taped a magazine shot of Yves on my fridge. For every ten pounds I lost I tore off a little piece. After a year, the picture was completely shredded. I achieved both goals.” She raised her chin proudly. “I dropped the weight and dropped him out from my heart.”
“You’re amazing. I never would have been able to recover on my own.”
“I did, but I also pledged never to give in to crazy useless passion. That’s when I agreed to date Steve.” She tapped her hand on her temple. “I went from one mistake to another. Oh Jennifer, what am I going to do?”
“You know you don’t have a choice.”
Her heart heavy with guilt and apprehension, she twitched her lip. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings. He’s been so kind to me when I needed him.”
“Do you think your decision will break his heart?”
For a moment, she imagined Steve’s reaction and frowned. “No, he’ll be shocked. Maybe disappointed. Definitely upset. But not heartbroken. Steve is a rational man who doesn’t let emotions rule his life. He likes to be obeyed and always wins arguments. He’ll resent me for disturbing his plans.”
“Tough. Don’t worry too much about him. Many doctors or nurses will be eager to help him recover from his disappointment.”
“I’m sure. Dr. Barbara Perry won’t wait an hour to console him. She’s the Director of Pediatrics. She can’t stand me.”
“Let her have him.”
“Thank you for reassuring me, Jennifer.”
“You’re welcome. That’s what friends are for.” They hugged each other and smiled. “What about you, Mary-Beth? What’s next for you?”
“Freedom.”
“And Yves?”
“Sweetie, I’m not going to jump from the frying pan into the fire. For the first time in my life, I’m not afraid of being on my own. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Fabulous. I’m proud of you. Come on, let’s go get a glass of wine. No sissy milk tonight.”
“I need more than a glass. It’s not going to be easy breaking with Steve.”
Jennifer squeezed her hand, and they ran down to the kitchen.
“Here’s to a safe trip home, Jennifer.” Mary-Beth clinked her glass against her friend’s. “I’m so glad I met you. Thanks for your support.”
“I hope you’ll visit me in Edinburgh.”
“Send me an invitation to your wedding.” She winked at Jennifer.
“Soon, I hope.”
An hour later, Mary-Beth was back in her room. She opened her cell phone to look at Steve’s picture and touched her finger to his face. “I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t smile and fake happiness. I can’t lie to you and to myself.”
Oh God, should she wait until she went back home and talk to him face to face? No, she’d better call him now.
Maybe she should call Loraine in Boston and seek some support from her unofficial shrink.
No, she’d hesitated long enough. Her heart somersaulted for an anxious moment as she struggled for courage. If she wanted to be in control of her life, she had to start now.
With a trembling hand, she clicked on Steve’s programmed number.
“Mary-Beth, finally. Where were you all evening?” Steve demanded, before she had time to utter a word.
Taken aback by his question, she frowned. “Having dinner. I mustn’t have heard my phone. When did you return from your cruise?”
“Last night.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t called her all day. “Did you have a good time?”
“Excellent.” He cleared his throat. “But I missed you a lot.”
“Really? That’s nice. Thank you.” She collected herself and focused on her decision. “Steve, I have to—”
“Honey,” he interrupted with an impatient tone.”Listen to me. I’m flying you here next weekend.”
“What? I can’t leave. I’m right in the middle—”
“It’s important to me. I need you here by my side.”
“Oh.” To think she didn’t believe him when he said he missed her. Guilt invaded her chest.
“I have great news. The American Society of Surgery has nominated me as Best Surgeon of the Year, and the hospital is throwing a banquet to honor me. Honey, I booked you an electronic ticket. I want you to be with me to share my joy.”
“Ah.” She tilted her head, her mind raging with contradictory responses.
“Aren’t you proud of me?”
“Yeah. Sure. Very proud.” And stunned.
“It’s a black-tie affair. Do you have a nice dress? Other than the boring black ones you’ve worn too often. Well, don’t worry about that. I’ll buy you a new gown. I’ll ask Dr. Perry to help me choose one. A long red gown. It’ll look nice on you. Barbara has a great taste. I’ll have my lovely fiancée on my arm. Oh, and I should get your engagement diamond and my gold cufflinks from the bank. What do you say, my sweet doll?”
Moving her cell phone from her ear, she glared at it. He’d get her to fly back to Boston just to have his lovely fiancée—a beautiful ornament— to parade. In red, to attract all eyes to him. Is that what she had always been to him? A lovely ornament?
And a sweet doll to cuddle at night to help him relax and go to sleep quickly.
“Mary-Beth? Honey?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“You don’t sound too pleased. What’s going on?” His irritation grated on her nerves.
“Steve, I can’t just dump my patients and fly all the way to Boston for a party.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll clear it with Malroux. He can do without you for a weekend.”
Clenching her phone, she wished Steve was standing in front of her. So that she could throw it at his head. “So you’ve decided everything without asking my opinion?” To think of it, when had he ever asked for her opinion?
“What are you talking about? Aren’t you happy to come and see me? To be with me during this memorable time?” No kidding, he sounded disappointed, hurt even.
“Steve, I would have preferred you ask me rather than order me to come.” Her voice rising with each word, she continued to vent her frustration. “I would have preferred that you announce your good news and let me decide what I want to do.”
“Why would I waste time asking? The banquet is next weekend. I had to book your ticket.”
“I would have preferred to be treated like a mature adult, an intelligent doctor. Not like a child, you always protect and order around.” Her voice shook with frustration.
“Come on, Mary-Beth, don’t make such a fuss over nothing. I didn’t think for a second that you’d hesitate to come.”
“Steve, is that how our life togeth
er is going to proceed? You making the decisions and me blindly obeying?” Good God, was that what she’d been doing all last year? Had she used his protection, his fame, even his authority, to avoid rejection and life’s insecurities? Pathetic.
Silence settled on the line, interrupted by his heavy breathing. She swallowed the tears that clogged her throat. She had wanted stability and affection from an older man. He’d given her all that and more.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Mary-Beth,” he said in a sober tone. “Are you having second thought about getting married?”
She raked her hand through her hair and nodded. How could she explain her sudden change? Sudden for him, not for her. How could she tell him she had been ready to break their engagement?
“Mary-Beth, are you there?”
“Yes, Steve, I’m here.”
“I think you’re tired. Malroux must have worked you too hard. Sweetheart, you need a good night rest. I’m changing your reservation to a one-way ticket. You’ve done enough training.”
“Good God.” Gritting her teeth, she froze. Her training and her career were the most important things in her life. No one was allowed to take that from her.
“I should have never let you go to France.” Anguish underlined his words.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” She let the tears slide on her face and didn’t bother to wipe them. “It’s too late now.”
“Too late? What…what do you mean?”
Too many feelings rattled in her heart. Guilt, apprehension, regret. She was about to hurt the man who had cared for her, the one who’d rescued her from a depression and given her confidence in herself. She should be grateful and show Steve her affection. Remorse overwhelmed her heart, but it had to be done.
“Steve, I’m sorry. I’m not coming back this weekend. I’m not coming back to you. I am so sorry.”
“I love you, sweetheart. You have to stay with me.”
She swallowed the lump clogging in her throat. “I know you love me, with a good solid affection, exactly as I love you. I also admire and respect you. I always will. Steve, I am very pleased that you’ll be honored this weekend. But I’m not the right person to be on your arm.”
“Mary-Beth.” An indrawn breath of outrage whipped across the line.
“Please, try to understand me. We…I…I made a mistake,” she murmured, unable to control her shaking.
“Mistake?” His groan filled the phone followed by a precarious silence.
“This isn’t a rash decision on my part. I was about to call and explain that I…that I no longer…that I can’t go on—”
“Is that so?” Cold and sharp like the blade of a scalpel, his voice sliced through her. “Then good-bye, Dr. Drake.” A sharp click ended the conversation and ended her engagement.
Throwing her cell phone on her bed, she hugged herself and closed her eyes. I had to do it. She couldn’t have spent the rest of her life pretending to be happy. Their marriage would have been a sham.
A moment later, she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, before opening her cell phone to display Steve’s picture again. She stared at his silvery hair, his handsome features and confident smile. Please, don’t hate me.
He didn’t need her to be happy. Many women would rush to console him.
Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she lifted up her chin and erased Steve’s picture.
Now she was free to make her own decisions and choose her own path.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The next morning Mary-Beth showered and dressed in all haste. She couldn’t wait to call Loraine and share her news.
“I’m a free woman, Loraine. Thank you for encouraging me to come to France.”
“You’re welcome. How do you feel about it?”
“Surprisingly, I slept without nightmares or dreams.” The heavy slumber that had claimed her last night, also restored her faith in the future.
“Good. Any plan for the future?”
“No. I just want to enjoy life. On my own.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And Loraine, for the first time since my parents’ death, I’m no longer afraid of loneliness or rejection. I’m ready to grab any new opportunities and tackle my problems. On my own,” she repeated.
“Enjoy your new life, sweetie. I’m glad to see you in control.”
“Loraine, you’re a damn good psychiatrist.”
“So glad to hear you say that. Unlike you, I never aced in med school and I was so anxious about succeeding in the residency I chose.”
“I guess we all have insecurities on one subject or another.”
“Take care of yourself, Mary-Beth. I’m not worried about you anymore.”
In the breakfast room of the chateau, Roberto and Carlos lingered over coffee. “Good morning, bella.” Carlos greeted her with a wide smile. “Have a seat. I’ll get you a coffee.”
“Thanks, but I have to run.” She chose a bagel from the bread basket and rushed outside to the parking lot and her rental car. Usually, she hardly glanced at the fields of iris as she concentrated on the road and pondered her situation. Today, she intended to enjoy the drive and she blanked all thought from her mind to admire the flowers and inhale their perfume.
At the hospital, she went straight to check on Hubert.
“Oh.” She stopped in her tracks at the door of his room. Yves slumbered in a chair next to the bed, hands crossed on his flat belly, his longs legs stretched in front of him.
“Shh…” Sitting upright, his back cushioned against several pillows, Hubert raised a finger to his lips. With a big smile, he pointed to Yves whose head had rolled down to his left shoulder. Silky dark strands of hair flopped over his forehead and gave a boyish softness to the sharp angles of his face. God, he’d never looked so attractive.
Mary-Beth took a deep breath to regulate her heartbeat and suppressed the urge to stroke her fingertip along his jaw and lips. She’d seen many doctors drowse at meetings, after a night on call, but Yves dozing was a sight to behold.
With his hand, Hubert beckoned her to come closer. “He just fell asleep,” he whispered in her ear.
“Okay.” She checked the BP monitor and raised a thumb to Hubert. “You’re doing great.”
A medical technician rolled in a clanking cart to take blood samples from her patient.
Yves stirred, opened his eyes, and groaned. “I think I dozed off for a while.”
“Only fifteen minutes,” Hubert said with a paternal tone. “Mon petit, you must go home and rest. You were up all night. Dr. Mary-Beth can check on me between her rounds.” It was funny and touching to hear Hubert call Yves my little one.
“Hubert is right,” she chimed in when Yves straightened and spread his arms to work the kinks in his neck. “Go to bed. I’ll see you later.”
“Really?” He smiled wickedly, misunderstanding her on purpose.
She blushed to the roots of her hair and scowled at him. He burst out laughing. She narrowed her eyes, but grinned, happy to maintain an easy camaraderie between them.
“Out you go, Yves Malroux. And don’t come back until you’re fully rested. Doctor’s orders. Don’t worry about Hubert. I’ll take good care of him.”
“I don’t doubt it.” A soft flame burned in his eyes and warmed her all over. “Au revoir, Hubert. I can use some sleep. I’ll come back in the evening.”
Hubert stoically let the technician draw three syringes of blood. “Are you sure you left something in my veins?”
The heavy woman laughed and pinched his cheek. “See you after lunch.”
“Vampire,” Hubert grumbled. “I don’t want her here again.”
“Come on. Be a good patient. She’s only doing her job.” Mary-Beth adjusted his pillows so he could rest.
“You don’t know that woman. Béatrice couldn’t get me after my wife died. So now she sucks my blood.”
Mary-Beth chuckled. “I didn’t know there was something going on between you two.”
“Not on my part. She�
�s the one hovering over me, ready to suffocate me with her hundred and some kilos.”
“Hubert, you male chauvinist. Don’t make fun of heavy people. Once upon a time, I was as big as her.”
“Really? And you became so slim. Can you help Béatrice?”
“Are you talking about me, Hubert?” the nurse asked with a delighted smile.
Hubert fixed an assessing look on her figure. “If you want to accompany me to the fête champêtre, you should do something about your weight,” he said in a blunt tone.
“Oh, mon chéri, you would take me as your date?”
“Only on the condition that—”
“Thank you.” Béatrice bent over him, cupped his face and kissed him on both cheeks.
“Help, she suffocates me,” he shouted. “I need oxygen.”
“I promise I’ll be beautiful for you.” Béatrice left the room her hand on her heart.
Mary-Beth shook her head at Hubert’s antics. “What is the fête champêtre?”
“It’s the village fair to celebrate the new wine of the season.” He glanced at the door and the departing nurse. “I wouldn’t mind wrapping my arms around her, but my hands won’t reach each other around her back.”
“You’re as bad as your boss when it comes to flirting, right?” Darn, she’d never have guessed that the stern Hubert had an eye for beautiful women.
“I resent that, Dr. Mary-Beth. For Yves and for myself. I had a happy marriage with my wife, and Yves… Poor Yves.”
“Why poor?”
“First because of his family, his parents. The countess and the late count Louis married in their early twenties. An arranged marriage. He had the title. She brought the money.”
“A typical French aristocratic marriage. Yves mentioned something about that.”
“Oh, he did? So I can tell you the rest.”
She nodded, waiting impatiently for the rest, whatever it was.
“The young couple was delighted to have a son, an heir to the fabulous name of Malroux de Marancourt. But soon they forgot that an heir is a child in need of love and attention. The count neglected his wife and had a string of mistresses, like his father and grandfather before him. The countess became depressed and then got involved in her social life. She headed multiple charity organizations, and…” Hubert paused and averted his gaze as if he’d already said too much.