by Lucy Clark
‘What?’ It was Alexis’s turn to explode and she jumped up from the seat, staring at Molly as though she’d just grown an extra head. ‘You were married? To him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Molly, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the man is gorgeous. Why aren’t you still married to him?’
‘I was young, Alexis. Very young.’
‘When? When was all this marriage thing?’
‘I was eighteen and I met him on an overseas tour and…we hit it off straight away and then…a few weeks later…well, we were in Las Vegas and…uh…one thing led to another and…’ She shrugged her shoulders.
‘You got married in Vegas!’
‘I know. Totally cliché, right?’
‘But how? Why did it end?’
Molly sighed heavily. ‘Just because he’s gorgeous, doesn’t mean he’s the easiest person in the world to live with.’
Alexis gasped, and Molly quickly continued, lest her friend should get the wrong idea. ‘Not that he was ever abusive or anything like that. No, no, no.’ Alexis sighed with relief at this news. ‘Just that there are many reasons why marriages break down. Ours lasted two years and ended with both of us agreeing that we’d jumped into things far too quickly.’
‘Hold on.’ Alexis held up her hands for a moment. ‘You married him when you were eighteen? That’s like…sixteen years ago.’
‘Correct.’
‘And when was the last time you saw him…er…before he came here?’
‘A few months before my sisters and I turned twenty-one.’
‘So it’s been a good fourteen years since you last saw him and he’s not married anyone else? Not been engaged even?’
Molly shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know. I’m presuming there’s someone. I mean, look at him. Why wouldn’t there be a woman in the wings?’ She thought about the way he’d talked about his tour manager, wondering again if he was involved with the woman. Then again, if he was involved with the woman, why would he have been…looking at her the way he had been after surgery?
‘And how did you feel about the way he was gazing longingly into your eyes?’ Alexis leaned closer again. ‘And what about Rah-rah Roger?’
‘What about him? There’s nothing between Fletcher and I. Nothing except history.’ Molly massaged her temples with her fingers. ‘And Roger is just…Roger.’
‘Just Roger?’
‘You know that’s not what I meant. He’s a nice guy. He helps me to loosen up, to release the stress.’
‘Oh, really?’ Alexis waggled her eyebrows up and down suggestively.
‘It’s not like that. We’re not serious, we’re just having fun.’
‘Fun?’ Alexis’s smile increased.
Molly rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘The real thing I need to be focused on right now is what to do about the digital recording of Mr Majors’ operation.’
‘Just tell Fetching Fletcher what happened and ask him to ensure the end of the recording is properly edited.’ Alexis shrugged her shoulders as though the solution was that simple.
‘That makes perfect sense. I’ll talk to Fletch.’
‘He strikes me to be a very reasonable man.’
Molly closed her eyes for a moment, speaking softly. ‘A man who has a devastating effect on my equilibrium.’
Alexis clapped her hands with excitement, clearly delighted with this news. ‘You still love him.’
‘I will always love Fletcher,’ Molly agreed, looking at her friend. ‘But I’m not in love with him.’ She looked pointedly at the clock on the wall. ‘If we don’t get a wriggle on, we’ll be even later for clinic.’ The two of them left Theatres and headed to the outpatient clinics.
‘We’re going to be out of here rather late this evening,’ Alexis murmured as they collected their patient lists and headed towards their respective consulting-room doors.
‘Never a truer word was spoken, Dr Borello.’ Fletcher’s deep voice rang out through the clinic corridor, a patient list in his hands.
‘You’re helping with the clinic?’ Alexis was the first to speak as she and Molly just stared at him for a moment.
‘I heard you were short staffed.’ He looked at Molly, as though trying to gauge her reaction. ‘Thought I’d lend a hand.’
Molly nodded and smiled politely. ‘Thank you, Fletcher. Much appreciated. Uh…’ She hesitated for a second, knowing she needed to talk to him but unsure how to begin. ‘Can I speak to you for a moment?’ she asked, trying to block Alexis’s big grinning face from her peripheral vision. She motioned to her consulting room and within another breath she was closing the door behind him, the two of them once again in close quarters.
‘Something wrong?’ Fletch asked when Molly paced back and forth behind the desk.
‘Yes. As a matter of fact there is.’ She stopped and looked at him, then came right out and told him about what Alexis had heard in the gallery.
‘Ah. So we need to ensure the file is edited correctly. Right. I’ll take care of that.’
‘Oh. Thank you.’ Molly sighed with relief, her earlier smile starting to return. ‘Thank you for this morning, for the coaching, for the opportunity to assist. It really has been a dream come true.’
‘You did an excellent job.’
‘Only because you were an excellent teacher.’
‘Do you know, out of all the times I’ve instructed this surgical procedure, I’d have to say today’s was my favourite.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Once I’m done here, at the end of next week to be precise, my fellowship is officially over so it was nice to have that “everything going according to plan” theatre experience before it ended.’
‘What will you do next? Head back overseas?’
He shook his head. ‘I have two months to write up my final findings of the fellowship.’
‘Where will you go to do that?’
He shrugged. ‘Melbourne, perhaps. Or Brisbane or even here in Sydney.’
‘Don’t stay in Sydney,’ she quickly replied, for the last thing she wanted was for Fletch to continue hanging around her hospital. ‘Too much…er…pollution.’
He smiled at that, as though he knew exactly what she was trying to do. ‘You don’t want me living close to you? Next door, for example?’ There was a teasing to his tone.
‘No. No offence but…no.’
‘None taken. You’re right, our lives are on different paths now but—’ The light went from his eyes and his lips drew into a straight line. She knew that look. Something was wrong and he wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding it. He raked a hand through his hair, then fidgeted by brushing imaginary strands of thread from his suit. He seemed to be weighing things up, deciding whether or not to tell her whatever it was he had to say. The longer he lingered, the more concerned she became.
‘Fletcher, what is it?’ There was a hint of veiled panic in her words. She controlled it as best she could. ‘Are you sick? Do you need my help?’
‘No. No. I’m well, but I do have something to tell you. I was going to wait until later but I don’t know when later is.’
‘You’re talking in riddles.’
‘I know.’ He exhaled harshly. ‘I’m just trying to figure out the right way to deliver the news.’
‘Oh, just blurt it out. Rip the sticking plaster off and get it done with. You know how I don’t like suspense.’
‘True. OK. Here goes.’ He rubbed his hands together, then pointed to the chair, pulling it out a little. ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’
‘I’m fine so just tell me what’s wrong.’ The words were spoken between gritted teeth.
‘I’ve come to see you about a divorce.’
‘Why? We’re already divorced. Why would you need to see me?’’
‘Well…because we’re not.’
‘Not?’ Her frown was deep. ‘What are you talking about? We got divorced.’
‘Actually…’ He slowly shook his head. ‘We didn’t.’
Molly opened and closed her mouth several times as she continued to stare at him in disbelief. ‘We…we…we what now?’
‘We’re still married. Molly, you’re still my wife.’
CHAPTER FIVE
MOLLY SLUMPED DOWN into the chair and stared straight ahead, clearly trying to compute what he was saying. ‘We’re still…?’ She shook her head. ‘How is that…?’
She was clearly speechless, which was not usual for her and made him a little worried as to what she might do or say next. He tried to smooth things over a bit more. ‘I know this is a bit of a shock.’
‘A bit?’ She looked at him. ‘But I remember signing the divorce papers and sending them back to the lawyer. Then quite a while later, I received a large envelope back from the law firm. That was the divorce decree.’
‘You did?’ Now it was his turn to frown. ‘So you actually have a piece of paper stating that we’re officially divorced?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I see it?’
Molly nodded. ‘Sure. It’s in a box somewhere in Stacey’s shed in Newcastle.’
‘Would she mind digging it out for me?’
‘I’ll call her when I get home tonight.’
‘Thanks.’ Fletcher sat down on the edge of the desk, deep in thought, a frown furrowing his brow. ‘But you do remember seeing it? Actually reading the piece of paper that stated our divorce was final?’
Molly bit her lip and looked down at her hands. ‘Well…not exactly.’ She sighed, then reluctantly met his gaze.
‘So you didn’t see the official paper?’ His tone was a little harsh and he saw her flinch a little. ‘Sorry. This is—’
‘This is doing my head in,’ she interrupted, standing from the chair and pacing around the consulting room.
‘Did you look at the paper?’ he asked again, ensuring his tone wasn’t so accusing.
‘I didn’t.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘I couldn’t do it, OK? I couldn’t bring myself to look at the piece of paper that stated I was no longer your wife.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I put it in a box, along with the other memories I had of you and…and…’ she wrung her hands together ‘…and the rest of our time together. In a box. Taped shut. Never to be opened again.’ Molly closed her eyes as though desperate to get her emotions under control.
Seeing her reaction, watching the pain cross her face as she mentioned their past, made him clench his jaw. He’d hurt her. Badly. He’d caused her so much emotional distress with the terrible things he’d said to her. Every time he thought about it, his gut churned with displeasure. There was no way he could go back and change the past and, although he’d apologised to her time and time again, he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for just how much he’d hurt her.
Silence engulfed the room. Repressed memories, harsh words, tears and heartbreak filled the air. ‘It was such a difficult time, Fletch.’ Her words were soft. ‘You know that.’
‘Yes. It was.’ He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders. Molly opened her eyes and looked at him. ‘For both of us.’ He gazed down at the woman who had stolen his heart so long ago. How was it possible she was even more beautiful now, when back then he’d thought her to be the most stunning woman he’d ever met? His Molly—and she really was his Molly, in deed, at least.
The instant he’d seen her again, dressed as a clown, her face covered in make-up, a crazy wig covering her gorgeous blonde hair, which was somehow much curlier now than it had been back then, every fibre of his being had returned to life, as though he’d finally discovered the answer to the secrets of the universe. Everything else had been forgotten. His work. His plans. The new life he was trying to make for himself. His new life with…Eliza.
Yet when he looked at Molly, it was as though he was making a mistake. Eliza was an amazing, easy-going woman and the two of them got along very well but…she wasn’t Molly. It was wrong, of course. Wrong to compare them when they were both such different women.
‘Fletch?’ Her voice was soft as she continued to gaze up at him. He tried to school his thoughts, tried not to be drawn in by her sparkling eyes or her tempting mouth. He swallowed again but didn’t drop his hands.
‘Yes?’ What was she going to ask him? Could she feel it, too? The heightened awareness, the awakened memories and the overwhelming need to do something about it? This moment was far more intense than the one they’d shared in her kitchen that morning. This time they didn’t have a table between them. They were close. Too close. If he angled his head a little lower, he could touch his lips to hers, taste her sweet sensations once more and—
‘Why do you think we’re still married?’
Her question was like a bucket of iced water, freeing his mind from the allure of reliving the past. Fletch dropped his hands back to his sides and took a big step back, not only needing to put some distance between them but also to remember he was romantically linked to another woman. Where was his brain?
‘Because we are.’ He walked towards the door, then checked his watch. ‘Clinic should have started ten minutes ago.’ Fletch straightened his tie before shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Why don’t we have dinner tonight and we can go over everything then?’
Molly immediately shook her head and pointed to herself. ‘Hates suspense, remember? Just give me the short version. Didn’t you receive a divorce decree from the lawyers as well? I just don’t understand—’
‘I couldn’t look at mine, either,’ he interrupted.
‘What?’
‘When my copy arrived from the lawyers, I couldn’t look at it, either. Like you, I didn’t want to read the piece of paper that told me you were no longer my wife and so I left it with the rest of my stuff at the storage unit and headed overseas.’
Molly frowned. ‘None of this makes any sense, Fletcher. Your uncle was the one organising our divorce. You told me it was all under control, that he would sort everything out.’
‘I know but…he was old and almost retired at that stage. Although he owned the law firm his sons were trying to phase him out.’ Fletch looked up at the ceiling as though expecting answers to fall from the sky. ‘It was a comedy of errors.’
‘I’m not laughing.’
‘Neither am I.’ He stared into her eyes. ‘Basically, my uncle was getting forgetful. His sons only gave him the most straightforward cases to do and ours was definitely straightforward.’
‘So how on earth did he stuff it up? I signed those papers.’
‘I know but it turns out…I missed one of the signature points.’
‘What? Then why weren’t you notified? Why didn’t someone hound you until you signed them? They’re your family. Surely they would have been able to track you down overseas?’
‘Apparently my uncle tried, several times, but was unsuccessful in getting word to me. And then…’
‘What?’ Molly spread her arms wide with exasperation. He didn’t blame her for feeling that way. He’d felt the same when he’d learned the truth.
‘He died.’
‘Oh.’ She dropped her arms back to her sides and frowned. ‘Surely someone took over his cases? Why didn’t they—’
‘They thought it was all taken care of. When I clarified everything with my cousin earlier this year, he said that sometimes things fall through the cracks. The person who took over my uncle’s small workload glanced at the file and thought it was complete. Apparently, my uncle hadn’t made clear notes detailing what still needed to be accomplished.’ Fletcher tapped the side of his head. ‘He kept everything up here.’ Just like Fletcher’s own father. Stubborn, proud and arrogant. He knew now it had been a complete mistake to allow the family law firm to take care of the divorce but back then he’d been hurting, confused and just wanting it all to be taken from his shoulders. When his uncle had offered, he’d jumped at the chance, his cousins assuring him that it was a no brainer.
‘Wait. You’ve known about this for a while? How long
?’
‘About four months.’
‘Four months! And you’re just getting around to telling me now?’
‘Molly, I’ve been travelling and this was hardly something we could discuss over the phone or via email.’
She nodded slowly. ‘So you added Sydney General to the end of your tour list just so you could come here in person and deliver the news? Hey, Molly, assist me in Theatre…oh, and by the way, we’re still married!’
‘That’s not what—’
‘What, Fletcher?’ She stood there with her hands on her hips, her green eyes blazing with anger. ‘That’s not what you intended?’
He stared at her, unable to look away from her stunning beauty. Even when she was angry, she was still so incredible, so vibrant. How could he have forgotten about Molly’s fiery determination?
‘You didn’t intend to come here and turn my life upside down and inside out?’ she continued when he didn’t speak. ‘What?’ She spread her arms wide and glared at him. ‘Say something.’
‘It’s just that…you’re so—’ He stopped himself. It wasn’t fair to tell her how beautiful she was when she was angry. He’d done that in the past, teased her out of her anger, made her smile, held her close, loved her slowly and intimately. Fletcher shook his head. What was it about this woman that made him forget everything? Made him forget why he was here? Why they were having this conversation?
‘When I discovered the file—’
‘Four months ago!’
‘Yes, four months ago, I knew it wasn’t something I could just talk to you about over the phone or by letter or—’
‘Or get the solicitors to deal with? That’s their job, Fletch. They could have contacted me and told me everything I needed to know. But oh, no.’ She whirled around and stalked behind the desk as she ground the words out. ‘The great and powerful Fletcher Thompson chooses to grace our hospital with his presence, to teach us—the little people—about his brilliance and then, oh, by the way, Molly, we’re still married!’
Molly slammed her hands onto the desk. ‘I mean—why? How did you discover the letter? Why didn’t you discover it years ago? Why now?’