by Lucy Clark
Fletcher glanced at the clock on the wall behind her head and shook his head. ‘It’s complicated, Molly.’
‘Don’t you try and use that pacifying tone on me. It doesn’t work. Answer me, Fletcher.’
‘You’re starting to get a little agitated so why don’t we discuss this later, when we don’t have a waiting room full of patients? How about dinner tonight? We can discuss things in more detail then.’
Molly closed her eyes and massaged her temples and he knew of old that her head was starting to pound. In some ways they knew each other so well and yet in others, it was as though they were complete strangers. She had every right to ask the questions she was asking but he was also aware that her voice had started to rise and the last thing he wanted right now was to draw attention to them. He’d offered to help out in the clinic so that Molly could finish work on time and then he’d planned to invite her to dinner at one of his favourite restaurants in Sydney, where he could calmly explain the situation to her, tell her about Eliza, how he needed her to sign the divorce papers so that he could marry Eliza early next year.
Clearly, none of that had happened and now they were already starting to fall behind with their patient lists.
‘I can’t do dinner tonight.’ Her tone was softer, filled with a level of defeat. That tone only added to his guilt because he knew she was giving in, letting him win for the sake of their patients. ‘It’s been a big enough day for me so if you don’t mind, can we leave it until later?’
‘Of course,’ he repeated, seeing for himself just how tense she was. He could well remember what it was like during his own final year of surgical training, trying to juggle everything.
At the knock on her consulting-room door, she jumped as the noise startled her. This was yet another indication of just how tired she was and he wished there were something he could do to make life easier for her. Instead, he was positive that his presence here, at her hospital, was making things worse.
‘Yes?’ she called, directing her voice towards the door.
Alexis popped her head around. ‘Sorry to intrude but the patients are starting to crowd the waiting room.’
‘Thanks, Alexis.’ Molly nodded firmly. ‘Would you mind showing Fletcher to his consulting room, please?’
‘Uh…sure.’ Alexis raised her eyebrows in question but then looked at Fletcher and smiled. ‘This way, Fetching Fletcher. Thanks for saving us from being here for hours on end.’
‘Fetching Fletcher?’ He grinned at the name as he followed Alexis out of Molly’s consulting room. ‘Is that my new nickname?’ He shut Molly’s door behind him but could have sworn he heard her groan with exasperation. Clearly she knew about the name and no doubt thought his ego would inflate even more. The thought made him smile. Ah, Molly. Always wanting to bring his ego down a peg or two.
‘Here’s your consulting room,’ Alexis said and pointed to the paper he’d put into his shirt pocket. ‘And I see you have your patient list so you should be all set to go.’ She quickly explained the system to him, letting him know how things worked before turning on her heel and heading to her own consulting room. Alexis stopped for a moment and looked at him over her shoulder, fixing him with a serious stare.
‘Don’t hurt Molly.’
‘That’s not my intention.’
‘And yet I have the distinct feeling you will.’
Fletcher glanced down at the ground for a moment before raising his gaze to meet Alexis’s once more. ‘I have the feeling you might be right…and I hate that.’
*
Thankfully, Molly was able to finish with her clinic patients before Fletcher.
‘I can’t believe how quickly we’ve managed to get through the patient lists,’ Alexis stated as she came into Molly’s consulting room as she finished writing up the last set of patient notes. ‘I’m sure it’s all down to the great and wonderful Fetching Fletcher.’
‘And I can’t believe you called him that to his face.’ Molly glanced up at her friend, a small smile on her lips.
‘I call it as I see it.’ Alexis shrugged. ‘And speaking of speaking—’
‘Which we weren’t.’
‘Well, I was.’ Her friend chuckled. ‘Did you have a little chat with FF to ensure he has the recording edited without the X-rated version tagged onto the end?’
Molly closed the case notes, then stood, picking up the pile of notes and X-rays so she could return them to the clerk. ‘It was hardly X-rated, Lexi.’ She walked past her friend, edgy to get out of the clinic without bumping into Fletcher. ‘But yes, I did.’
‘And?’
‘And of course he’s going to edit it. It would be unprofessional otherwise.’ Molly frowned, thinking back to her conversation with him, the one she’d forced from her mind for the past few hours while she’d been concentrating on her patients. How was it possible she was still married to him?
She handed in the notes and X-rays, thanked the staff and said goodnight. Alexis stopped her at the door. ‘Aren’t you going to wait for him?’ She looked around covertly, as though checking no one could hear their conversation. ‘Go out for dinner? Drink some wine? Talk over old times?’
‘Alexis, stop!’ Molly cut her friend off. ‘Whatever happened between Fletcher and myself ended years ago. Our lives have run very different courses and that’s all there is to it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m very tired and I still have to check on Mr Majors, go home, write up my notes from the operation while everything is still fresh in my mind and then hopefully get some sleep without being called into the hospital for any patient emergencies.’
‘Right. Of course.’ Alexis pretended to zip her lip then looked intently at her friend. ‘I don’t want to see you get hurt.’ Her words were filled with sincerity.
‘Then why are you throwing me at him? Have dinner! Drink wine!’
Alexis shrugged. ‘Playing devil’s advocate? I’m just making sure your head hasn’t been turned by his good looks and easy-going manner.’
Molly smiled and shook her head. ‘It hasn’t. Believe me.’
Alexis stared at her for another moment before hugging her. ‘I’m on call tonight so I’ll do my best not to be needing any extra help in Theatres.’ She crossed her fingers, both of them knowing that, no matter what they did, if there was an accident and more staff were required, then there was nothing either of them could do. It was their job.
‘Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said before heading to Intensive Care where Mr Majors was doing a superb job of recovering from his surgery. The entire time she was there, she kept expecting Fletcher to enter the ward.
‘Are you waiting for someone?’ Sister asked.
‘No. Why?’ Molly answered a little too quickly.
‘You just keep checking the door.’ Sister waggled her eyebrows up and down. ‘Then again, so do the rest of us. Fetching Fletcher’s got to come around at some point to check on his one and only patient, right? We all hoped he’d come with you but—’
Molly tuned out Sister’s words, preferring to concentrate on writing up Mr Majors’ notes, extremely pleased with his progress. ‘The medications I’ve prescribed,’ she interjected when Sister paused for a breath, ‘should be enough to get him through the night but, of course, if there are any problems or queries, give me a call. Immediately.’
Molly left the ICU, stopping by her locker and collecting her bag before finally walking out of the hospital door just before seven o’clock in the evening.
As it was dark, she debated whether to take a taxi but it wasn’t raining and it really wasn’t that far. She set off at a brisk pace, allowing her thoughts to start whirling. She needed to call Stacey, to get her to find that envelope, to check for herself that what Fletch was saying was the absolute truth. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Fletch, he certainly had no reason to lie about this, but more because she didn’t believe the entire situation. How could she have been so careless back then? Why hadn’t she opened the envelope? Checked exactly
what it was the lawyers had been sending her?
But she hadn’t been strong enough. To see it written in black and white that she was no longer Fletcher’s wife, that she no longer had any right to demand his time and attention, had been more than she could bear. She’d already been through so much emotional turmoil with the ba—
‘No.’ She spoke the word out loud as she continued to stride down the street. There was no point in taking her thoughts anywhere near that topic. Instead she pulled her phone from her pocket and called Stacey.
‘I need you to check something for me,’ she stated and quickly gave Stacey an update on the situation, that the divorce documents hadn’t been signed correctly. ‘I need you to find that envelope and check.’
‘Do you really think you’re still married to Fletcher?’ It was clear her sister was incredibly puzzled.
‘I don’t know, Stace. That’s why I need you to find the envelope.’ Molly had a difficult time keeping the distress from her tone.
‘Of course. Of course,’ Stacey returned, instantly placating. ‘I’ll look for it now. Jaz can read the younger kids bedtime stories tonight.’
‘Thanks, Stace.’
‘Hey, how did the surgery go?’
‘The surgery was fantastic. The patient tolerated the procedure very well and is presently on his way to making a full recovery.’
‘And how did it feel having all those people watching you?’
Molly opened the front gate to her place. ‘I forgot about them. Fletch gave me clear and concise directions as well as explaining the procedure to those in the gallery.’
‘He sounds like quite a good teacher,’ Stacey mused out loud. Molly shifted her bag in order to get her house keys out, not wanting to think about just how incredible Fletch really was at teaching, especially as she could remember with perfect clarity some of the more sensual lessons he’d taught her during their short marriage.
‘I’m home now,’ she told her sister, a briskness to her tone as she shoved those past erotic images away. ‘Can you look for that envelope, please?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ Stacey answered, compassion in her tone. ‘I’ll call you back when I’ve found it.’
‘I don’t care what time it is, just call me as soon as you find it.’ Molly put her key into the door and opened it, exhaustion really starting to take hold as she dropped her bag to the floor and headed to the kitchen for a drink.
‘Right. Talk soon.’ Stacey blew a kiss down the phone before disconnecting the call.
Molly put her phone onto the kitchen table before taking out a small bottle of juice from the fridge. Her energy reserves were so low she didn’t even have enough to make herself a warm drink. Taking the juice through to the lounge room, she sank down into the large, comfortable chair and closed her eyes for a moment.
What a day. In fact ever since Fletch had arrived in Sydney, he’d turned her world upside down. It was more difficult to control her thoughts when she was around him, difficult not to close her eyes and remember the happiness they’d once shared whenever she breathed in his gorgeous scent.
Whatever she’d been feeling since his return, however she might have interpreted his behaviour, especially as the attraction between them still seemed to be smouldering beneath the surface, it was clearly nothing more than residual emotion. Their marriage had ended abruptly, filled with pain and regret, and she had no idea how to move past that. Feelings of inadequacy, of failure. For far too long she’d felt as though she’d failed him, not only as a wife but as a mother—
‘No. Don’t think about it.’ Even all these years later, the loss she’d suffered was still such a deep wound, such an anguish she wondered if she’d ever truly recover from it. Instead, she’d focused on her career and her family. That had provided her with enough healing balm to cover over the wound. Molly yawned and shifted in the chair, curling into the cushions, accepting the comfort the inanimate object provided.
The knock at the door startled her. Molly sat up, instantly alert. She looked at her watch, astonished to discover several hours had passed since she’d arrived home. Who could be coming around at this hour?
She headed to the door as the person waiting there knocked once more. When her phone started ringing, she groaned and took a quick detour to the kitchen where she’d left it. It was Stacey.
‘Just a minute,’ she called to whoever was at the door. ‘Stacey?’ she said into the phone.
‘I’ve found the envelope.’ Stacey’s voice was sombre yet held a hint of uncertainty. ‘Are you sure, Molly?’
‘Just a second, someone’s at the door,’ she told her sister, but the instant she opened the door and saw just who was standing there she spoke to her sister again, her gaze not breaking from the man before her. Why was it that at the first sight of Fletch, who was dressed comfortably in jeans and light jumper, her heart had started beating out an erratic rhythm?
‘Fletcher’s at the door. I’m putting you on speaker. Go ahead, Stacey. Open the envelope.’
At her words, Fletcher raised his eyebrows. They stood there, on either side of the threshold, communicating with no need for words. He knew exactly what was going on and it was as though they waited for the verdict together.
‘I’m opening it,’ Stacey remarked.
‘Are we divorced or still married?’ she asked impatiently a few moments later.
‘Still married.’ Stacey’s reply was clear and concise.
‘We’re still married,’ Molly repeated, completely dazed.
CHAPTER SIX
MOLLY WAS STILL dazed as she sat at the table, once more allowing Fletch to move around her kitchen as though he lived there. He finished making both of them a soothing cup of herbal tea before sitting opposite her. She shook her head again. ‘All these years. We’ve been married all these years.’
She sipped at her tea, relaxing a little at the soothing taste. ‘We’re still married.’ The words were filled with incredulity and she looked across at Fletcher, watching him for a moment as he drank his tea.
‘I know. Took me a while to wrap my head around everything.’
‘So how did you?’
‘How did I what?’
‘Wrap your head around it.’
‘Uh…well, I guess having time to process things does help.’
‘And being the problem solver that you are, what conclusions have you come up with? I mean, do you just need to sign the papers or do we have to go through the whole rigmarole again?’
‘We have to file again.’
‘Right.’ She sipped her tea. ‘Would you mind if I used my own lawyer this time?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but my cousins have offered to reprocess the documents at no cost, firmly assuring me that this time everything will go through just fine.’
‘And we’ll both open our letters when they arrive.’
He smiled at her then, his eyes filled with sorrow. ‘Yes.’
Molly cradled her cup in her hands and thought things through. ‘So what made you go looking for your divorce papers? Planning on remarrying?’
‘Huh?’ He stared at her as though she’d just guessed his guilty secret. ‘Uh…how did you come to that conclusion?’
‘Why else would you look at those papers after all this time? It’s logical, Fletch.’
‘I guess.’ He sipped his tea. ‘Basically, until we get our divorce finalised, there’s no moving on for either of us. Not legally, at any rate.’
‘And emotionally?’
‘Emotions always take longer to sort through, longer to process, longer to…forgive.’
Molly finished her tea and stood from the chair, walking to the sink. ‘Are you asking me if I’ve forgiven you for what happened all those years ago?’
‘Yes.’
She looked at him over her shoulder as she washed her cup and picked up a tea towel to dry it. ‘We were both so young.’
‘You’ve never wanted to get married again? Start a family?’ She shook her
head quickly. Now was not the time to think about children, about how scary it would be to feel a little human growing inside her again. She’d be worried throughout the entire pregnancy that something might happen to it, that she might do something wrong, that the baby would die.
Although everything had happened all those years ago, although the words Fletcher had said to her had been because he’d been feeling helpless and alone, and although she knew it hadn’t been her fault, deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew she’d worry and stress throughout the entire pregnancy…if she was ever going to have children.
‘I’m too busy trying to qualify,’ she finally answered him. ‘Besides, I have a big enough family already but clearly, given you’re here, you do want to get married again.’ She finished drying the cup and turned to put it away. ‘So who’s the lucky woman?’
Even though she and Fletcher had said their goodbyes so many years ago, there was still a stab of pain at the realisation that he was no longer available. Not to her, not to anyone…except—
‘Eliza.’ She looked at him again, seeing the surprise on his face at her accurate guess.
‘How could you possibly know?’
‘She’s the only other woman you’ve mentioned since you arrived. Your fellowship tour manager, right? The one who’s presently in Melbourne looking after her sick father?’
‘Yes.’
‘A nurse?’
‘An ex-theatre sister.’ He finished his tea and Molly immediately held out her hand for his cup, needing something to do. ‘It was good having someone who understood the intricacies of surgery to plan the tour. She’s a widow with one son.’
‘Where’s her son been while you’ve been travelling?’ Molly didn’t particularly want to know but, then again, Fletcher was her ex-husband…or soon would be. Why couldn’t she be interested in his life, interested in making sure he was indeed happy because, above all, that was all she’d ever really wanted for him. She washed his cup and started to dry it.
‘He’s twenty years old.’