Mind Over Marriage

by Rebecca Daniels

  She smiled across the table at him. “You’re sweet, but I know this can’t be much fun for you.” She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “And I know what Mannie would say—he’d tell me to take it slow and easy, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Slow and easy. Believe me, I don’t want to do anything that would put me flat on my back again, either.”

  Coop let out a long sigh. She was like a little bird learning to fly, and there was nothing that was going to stop her. “You sure you feel strong enough?”

  She leaned back in the chair, reaching for the paper again. “Well, if I do feel a little weak now, I’m sure it’s nothing a little breakfast wouldn’t cure.”

  Coop rolled his eyes. “If you’d stayed in bed, I’d have brought it to you.”

  She peered over the paper again. “You’ve got a thing for that little brass bell, don’t you?”

  He laughed, picked up his coffee mug and pushed himself away from the table. “Yeah, it makes me feel a little like your boy toy.” He headed for the kitchen. “Omelet and toast all right with you?”

  “With jalapeno peppers and salsa?” she asked hopefully, her eyes wide.

  He cringed and shook his head. Her ability to eat fiery chilies and the spiciest of salsas never ceased to amaze him. “As long as I don’t have to watch,” he muttered. “How you can ruin perfectly good eggs with that stuff I’ll never understand.”

  He set to work, pulling out eggs from the refrigerator and unhooking pans from the rack above the stove. He tried not to think about how much he’d missed their lazy Sunday mornings together—perusing the paper, lingering over breakfast. In the past fourteen days he’d been forced to remember a lot of things he really hadn’t wanted to—things he missed, things he had lost.

  It seemed hard to believe that two weeks had- passed since her release from the hospital. The days had flown by in a blur of emotion and strain—difficult days despite their speed. He’d had to field telephone calls, explain away changes and answer about a million questions she had about one thing or another. And even though he’d all but turned over the day-to-day operation of Reed Heli- . copter Service to Doris and a substitute pilot, there were still things that had come up, things he’d had to see to personally. However, regardless of the physical and emotional strain of the past two weeks, he’d managed to survive—and that wasn’t something he’d been sure he could do two weeks ago.

  He glanced into the nook, watching as she scanned the newspaper, sipping her coffee. He shouldn’t have been surprised to find her up and about on her own. Her progress had been nothing short of miraculous. Each day she seemed to improve and grow stronger. The bumps and bruises that had once marred her beautiful skin had healed and disappeared, and she no longer complained about the pain in her leg. Sunny afternoons on the patio had obliterated any trace of hospital pallor, leaving her skin with a rich, lush glow. She was not only getting better, she was thriving.

  Yet even more amazing than the healing of her tangible wounds were the improvements to those injuries that were harder to see. Each day it was becoming more evident that she was remembering, that their elaborate charade was working. Her memory was coming back.

  Coop thought back to that first night in her bed, her first night home from the hospital. Him driving her new car up the front drive hadn’t exactly been a major event in their lives, but the mere fact that she’d remembered at all made it seem momentous.

  Except recovering that one memory had been just the beginning. There had been other things since then—dozens of small, seemingly insignificant incidents that by themselves weren’t pivotal, but when blended together painted a very clear picture that her mind was being stimulated and memories were coming back.

  . He cracked the eggs, dropped them into a bowl and whisked them together. It was only a matter of time, he knew that now. Just a matter of time before it all came back, before she remembered everything.

  He poured the eggs into the pan, glancing at her. She looked up, giving him a smile and blowing him a kiss. He felt a pressure build around his rib cage, a tight band of tension that made it difficult to draw in a breath. Would she still smiling at him when she remembered, when she learned the truth? Would she understand and accept before kicking him out of her life again?

  Chapter 7

  “It’s remarkable, really.” Mannie Cohen mused, scanning the chart in front of him. He looked up, slipped off his horn-rimmed glasses and turned to Coop. “Except I don’t know why I’m surprised. Kelsey is a remarkable woman.”

  Coop nodded, gazing at the crowded parking lot of Community General Hospital. He wasn’t thinking about Mannie Cohen and his reflections on Kelsey and her progress. Instead, he was remembering that night over a month ago when he’d first stood here and stared at the parking lot below. It had been almost deserted back then, not bustling with cars and people as it was now, but that wasn’t the only thing that had changed in the past four weeks. His entire life had been transformed since then.

  “And the reports from Dr. Crowell seem to be just as encouraging,” Dr. Cohen continued. He flipped the chart closed, tossing it on his desk and sitting up. “No doubt about it, she’s remembering more and more.”

  “Yeah,” Coop mumbled. “More and more.”

  He watched a young mother with two small children in tow and an infant in her arms make her way across the lot, carefully herding the children through the parked cars. He admired the careful, nurturing way she protected her children, despite the fact her arms were filled with the baby she was holding. Kelsey would have been that kind of mother. She would have protected her children no matter what the situation.

  He turned from the window, feeling an ache in his chest. Except there would be no children for Kelsey, and one day soon she was going to remember that

  “How are things going between the two of you?”

  Coop looked up, shrugging casually. “Okay—given the situation.” He pushed himself away from the window and walked to the desk. “Of course that was with her stuck in bed most of the time. All that’s changing pretty quick.” He sat in the chair opposite the doctor. “Who knows what it’s going to be like with her up and around more. She’s already talking about getting rid of the hospital bed.”

  Dr. Cohen picked up a pencil, and wove it absently between his fingers. “For what it’s worth, I advised her it would be a good idea to hold off on any...activity for a while longer.”

  “Activity?” Coop laughed, shaking his head. “And what do you advise for me, Doc?”

  Dr. Cohen dropped the pencil and leaned back in his seat. Resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, he tented his fingers together, peering at Coop over the top.

  “Something you want to talk about, Coop?”

  Coop snorted, learning against the hard back of the chair. “I thought you were an internist, Doc, not a shrink.”

  “I don’t have to be a shrink to see you’ve got something eating at you.”

  “You mean other than the fact that I’m living with my ex-wife and pretending the last two years of our lives never happened?”

  “Is that it? Is that what’s got you tied up in knots?”

  “You don’t think that’s enough?”

  Mannie Cohen smiled. “I think maybe you’re more worried about her getting her memory back than a little subterfuge, am I right?”

  “A little subterfuge?” Coop laughed—a harsh, mocking sound. “Oh, that’s good. Is that a little like saying World War Two was a small altercation?”

  “Not really,” Dr. Cohen replied, unaffected by Coop’s jeering laughter. “And you haven’t answered my question.”

  Coop’s smile faded. “If you think I don’t want Kelsey to get better—then no, you’re not right.”

  “Oh, I don’t have a doubt you want Kelsey to get better,” Dr. Cohen insisted, pausing for a moment. “I’m just not so sure you’re anxious for her to remember.”

  “You think I should be?” Coop charged, coming forward in his
chair. “Do you have any idea how she’s going to feel when she remembers, when she realizes we’ve been lying to her all this time?”

  “It also means she won’t be your wife, and the two of you won’t be playing house any longer.”

  Anger flashed red-hot, and Coop was on his feet in a heartbeat. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I think it’s time you started being honest with yourself.”

  Coop glared into Mannie Cohen’s face, hating him at that moment. He wanted to crawl across the desk and grab the guy by the throat and deny everything. Only it wouldn’t do any good. Mannie Cohen had seen right through him, and there was no argument he could make, no denial he could offer in the face of the truth.

  “If it had been my call,” Coop said, the anger dying in his veins, “there would be no need to pretend. We would still be married—she’d still be my wife.” He rubbed a tired hand over his eyes and looked at the doctor. “How’s that for honesty?”

  “I suspected as much,” Mannie Cohen replied. “You’re still in love with her.”

  Coop felt the doctor’s words penetrate to the very core of his soul, that deep, dark place where he’d stowed all those forbidden feelings the divorce decree declared he didn’t feel any longer.

  He laughed, feeling more tired and weary than he did after seventy-two hours in the air. “Is it that obvious?”

  Dr. Cohen shrugged. “If you’re looking—and I have been for a while.” He hesitated, tapping the pencil against his palm. “You know, you’re not the only man who wanted a woman he couldn’t have.” He paused again, his voice lowering. “It happens to the best of us—even outof-shape bald guys like me.”

  Coop looked at the man behind the desk, feeling a little as though he was seeing him for the first time. A moment ago he’d hated the doctor with his platitudes and medical double-talk, and would have liked nothing more than to vent a little of his well-deserved anger and frustration against the good doctor’s square jaw. Now he felt a kinship, an alliance that stemmed from understanding—man to man.

  “I’m living with the woman, Doc,” Coop said. “I’m with her day and night.” He drew in a shaky breath, relieved to talk about what he hadn’t been able to talk about to anyone else. “I know the score, I know this isn’t real— nothing she says to me is real. I know that just because she doesn’t remember we’re not married any longer it doesn’t mean I’ve been given the green light to take her to bed.” He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and shook his head. “I’m not interested in taking advantage of her. It’s just...damn, I’m not made of stone, either.”

  Mannie Cohen reached for the pencil that had rolled down the length of the desk blotter and rested against the leather-trimmed edge. “If it’s any consolation, there’s a good chance it won’t be much longer. Everything points to her making a full recovery. I believe she will remember everything.”

  “Yeah.” Coop slowly walked to the window and stared out. “And once she remembers, she’ll want me gone again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Coop turned and looked at him. “You forget, Doc, I’ve been through this before.” He paused, growing thoughtful. “It’s just a matter of time. I know it, I accept it.”

  “Do you?”

  He laughed. “What choice do I have?”

  “Maybe not any,” Dr. Cohen conceded, jabbing the pencil onto the blotter and snapping the lead. “But things are different now. A lot has happened in the past two years. You’ve both had time to think, to be alone, and...feelings can change.”

  “That’s just it,” Coop said, walking to the desk. “Her feelings did change. It’s what broke us up two years ago and it’s what will break us up again.” He extended a hand over the desk. “Look, Doc, I appreciate the try, I really do. But it’s over.”

  “What is it?”

  “A walking cast.”

  Coop frowned, staring at the narrow blue cast that covered her foot and calf. “It looks like a boot.”

  “It’s supposed to,” she said, turning it from side to side to give him a better view. “So you can walk on it.”

  Coop moved her jacket from across his lap to the vinyl cushion beside him. He slowly rose to his feet. His frown deepened. “It looks so small.”

  Kelsey looked at him and grinned. “I know, isn’t it great?” She took a few quick steps with her crutches. “And see how much better? It’s so light compared to the other one.”

  “Yeah,” he muttered, watching as she made her way across the narrow waiting area off the corridor outside Vince Hamilton’s office. “I can see that.”

  “I almost feel like I could run in it. Let’s see.”

  “Kelsey!”

  She giggled at his reaction, stopping him with a hand on his chest. “Calm down, calm down, I’m just kidding. No running, I promise.” She took a step closer. “Not yet, anyway.”

  He looked at her. Even in the glaring white light of the hospital corridor that made the healthiest people look sick, she looked great, the very picture of life and vitality. Her blue eyes were clear and sparkled with excitement, and her long, golden hair shone with platinum highlights.

  He reached out, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Her skin felt like satin against his hand and glowed warm and rich like honey. He heard Mannie Cohen’s words in his head, words that were like a clock ticking in his brain. It won’t be much longer. Everything points to a full recovery. She’ll remember everything...

  “Kelsey,” he murmured, slipping his free hand around her waist and pulling her close. He wanted to hold on to the moment, wanted to stretch it and pull at it, make it last forever. “Kelsey.”

  Something in his expression, in his voice, the intensity in his eyes made the smile on her face fade. “Coop, what is it?”

  He brought his mouth to hers. “Tell me,” he whispered against her lips. “Tell me you’re mine. Let me hear the words. Tell me you’re mine.”

  “Yes,” she said, her breath coming in quick, short pants. “Yes, yours. Always yours.”

  Coop closed his eyes. “Mine,” he growled, crushing his mouth against hers. “Remember that.”

  The kiss was hard and fierce and filled with all the turbulence inside him. He wanted her to remember, wanted her to mark the moment in her heart and not forget when the memories came back. He wanted her to know what she had felt, what it was they had together before she sent him away again.

  “I love you, Coop,” she whispered, looking at him.

  And at that moment, he could see the love in her eyes. She had loved him once, deeply and completely, the way he had loved her. Love had been in her heart and in her soul before it had deteriorated and disappeared.

  Pain twisted in his chest. He’d spent two years thinking about it, two years trying to find a reason things had happened the way they did. If only she could have turned to him. If only she’d taken his comfort and strength. But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d allowed the pain and the bitterness to ravage her love, to destroy everything they’d had.

  He pulled away from her, squeezing his eyes shut. Looking at her was like looking through a window into the past. She had loved him. How could feelings just disappear? Were pain and disappointment powerful enough to destroy love? Even after two years, he still didn’t know. Where did love go when it died?

  “Coop?”

  Coop jumped, startled, and opened his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  He saw the concern in her eyes, and the ache in his heart intensified. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

  “You look upset.”

  “Me?” He shook his head, feeling embarrassed. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, lifting her hand to his cheek. “If it’s that crack I made about running, I wasn’t serious—”

  “No,” he said, cutting her off by pressing a kiss into her palm. “No, it’s...it’s not that.” He looked at her. If only he could tell her. If only he coul
d explain the clutch of emotion that gripped him like a vise—the regret, the sorrow, the sadness of what they had lost—but he couldn’t. There was no way he could make her understand all the feelings in his heart without telling her everything—and she would know everything soon enough. “I’m...I’m just glad you’re here with me now—right now.”

  “I’m glad, too,” she murmured.

  He saw the line between her brows deepen, and drew in a deep breath. He had to lighten things up and push aside the memories. It was too dangerous getting her suspicious, and he was far too vulnerable.

  “What say we get out of here?” he asked, plastering a smile on his face and sweeping his emotions aside like dust under a rug.

  “No, wait a minute,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his sleeve. “I wish you’d talk to me.”

  “About what?”

  “I’m worried about you.”

  “Me? What for?” He leaned close, lowering his voice. “I’m not the one who had a building fall down on me, remember?”

  Kelsey’s frown deepened. “What was all that about?”

  “All what?” He walked to the elevator and punched the button.

  “Damn it, Coop,” she said, coming straight at him and backing him against the wall. “Don’t play dumb with me. What happened back there?”

  The elevator door opened, but they both ignored it. After a moment, the door slid closed, leaving the hall silent and empty.

  “I kissed you,” he said, but his voice sounded defensive and guarded even to his own ears. “What’s the big deal? A man can’t kiss his wife anymore?”

  “That wasn’t just a kiss.” .

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Coop stared at her. He wanted to joke, wanted to play dumb and mock her concern, but it would do no good. She would see through the act as easily as she’d seen through his joking denials.

  “Okay,” he said after a moment, pushing away from her. “Okay, maybe it just scares me a little, that’s all. Maybe it bothers me when I think about losing you.”