by Donna Alward
ADELE WASN’T SURE she could stay on her feet much longer.
The meds were no longer working. After persevering through the day and fighting valiantly, she was quickly starting to lose the battle. What she needed was to go to bed, to curl up in her cozy blankets and attempt to sleep this off. She prayed the virus didn’t last long. She had a Valentine’s Day wedding coming up, plus she hated being sick. Even a simple cold or flu made her uneasy, as if her body were somehow betraying her. It had been this way ever since her diagnosis and treatment. Being sick made her feel weak...and out of control.
She watched as Holly and Pete had their first dance, and tried to keep some emotional distance. An hour and a half ago they’d been clients. Lovely clients, certainly, but she hadn’t felt quite like this. The news that Holly was pregnant had somehow flipped a switch inside her. And it wasn’t as if she’d never had pregnant brides before, though not often.
She rather suspected it was because Dan had been right there, looking at her. That he’d been in her little sphere of existence for the last two and a half days, bringing up all sorts of memories and feelings.
Happy-ever-after. That wasn’t what she promised, but she did ensure that couples got off to a great start. She bit down on her lip as Holly and Pete rested their foreheads together, their feet slowly shuffling to the sweet song. They were clearly in love, had a gorgeous home outside Calgary with a view of the mountains, and a baby on the way. A perfect little life.
Dan stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching them, too. For a moment, his gaze flitted to her, and then away again. He hadn’t said a word to her since she’d stopped at the head table. The day was nearly over, and she didn’t need his help anymore. It was crystal clear that his assistance earlier hadn’t been from any lingering...affection, perhaps? Nostalgia? He seemed to be doing a much better job of keeping his emotional distance than she was. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the ache in her heart each time she saw him or heard his voice. That laughing timbre had once been just for her. The way he rubbed a finger over his eyebrow when he was deep in thought hadn’t changed. All the little things that had been out of sight, out of mind, were suddenly right before her eyes.
One of the staff members came by and offered her a piece of wedding cake. The smell of it turned her stomach; she hadn’t eaten since earlier in the afternoon and the medication, plus copious cups of tea, had her tummy not quite settled. Her head pounded and the loud music wasn’t helping. At this rate, she was just going to leave her car here tonight and get a cab home. Getting behind a wheel simply wasn’t a good idea, nor did she want to expend the energy required to focus on the road.
She sneezed into her sleeve, and then reached into her pocket for a tissue. Again.
The first dance ended, and she persevered through the next few numbers, where the wedding party and family joined the couple. As soon as the obligatory pairings were over, she made her way over to Pete and Holly. She made sure she didn’t get too close; the last thing Holly or Pete needed was to get sick on their honeymoon.
“Everything’s well in hand. Congratulations, you two. I’m going to be heading out now.”
“You’re not staying until the end?” Holly’s face fell, and Adele’s heart warmed.
“You don’t need me now. The bar’s open and running smoothly, the hotel staff has everything under control and the DJ is here until midnight.” She paused and then decided to be honest. “Truthfully, I’ve come down with the same bug that created some of our staffing issues today. I’ve been popping cold-and-flu pills since this morning, but I’m really starting to feel awful. Plus, I don’t want to give it to anyone, including you two.”
“Oh, Adele! You should have said something earlier!” Holly sounded genuinely distressed.
“It’s fine. I promised you a day of your dreams, and I hope you had it.”
“We did,” Pete said. “Everything was beautiful. Not quite as beautiful as Holly, but amazing.”
She smiled, though her head was pounding in time with the upbeat song blaring through the speakers. A shiver racked her body. “I’m sorry. I’d love to stay. I just...”
She weaved for a moment, light-headed, and reached out for a chair to steady herself.
“Adele,” Pete said, his voice deep with caution. “You do need to go. Thank you for everything, but please, go look after yourself.”
She nodded, but then Dan’s voice came from behind her. “Is everything okay?”
Adele turned to say yes, but Pete interrupted first. “Adele is horribly sick. You can’t drive,” he said to Adele, and then looked at Dan again. “Could you see she gets into a cab, Dan?”
“Of course.”
Dan took her elbow and she followed him meekly, too sick to put up any sort of a fight. The momentum of the day had kept her pushing through, but now that it was over, it seemed she’d lost all her fight. They stopped to get her coat and bag, which she was certain he carried out of politeness. They were outside the ballroom, where it was cooler, when she tugged on his arm.
“Wait.” She couldn’t keep up with him. Plus, the cooler air felt so good on her face, even though her body was cold. Her heart was racing, too. “I feel weird, Dan. I need a minute.”
“Take the time you need. I’ll let them know we need a cab.”
“I need a cab,” she corrected him, but he was already gone.
Even the thought of dragging herself to bed seemed a monumental task. She sat on a nearby chair, but when Dan approached, rubbing his hands together, she stood. Too quickly. Everything around her blurred and swam.
“Adele!” She heard him call out, but it sounded as if his voice wasn’t connected to his body. Instead her knees wobbled and she started a slow slide...
When she came to, they were in the elevator and she was cradled in Dan’s arms. “What happened? Where are we going?”
“You fainted, and we’re going upstairs. I’m not letting you go home like this.”
She struggled against his arms, but they tightened around her. “I can’t stay here. Put me in a ca—ha-hachoo!” She sniffed.
“Stop fighting. You’re in no shape to go home. I don’t know how you made it through your day. You’re burning up.”
The elevator dinged and she wondered how strong he had to be to hold her in his arms for so long.
“I can walk.”
But he ignored her as he stepped out into the corridor of the quiet floor and started down the hall.
“Dan...” She tried to twist a little. “I don’t want to give this to you.”
“I’ve had my flu shot.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t get sick. What if it’s a different strain?”
“Well, you were probably contagious yesterday, so it’s too late anyway. It’s going around. You’re probably not the first person I’ve been exposed to.” He frowned down at her. “I take it you didn’t have your shot.”
She shook her head. “I kept meaning to...” It was stupid, really. Someone like her, who hated being sick, should have been first in line for this year’s vaccine.
He did put her down when they got to his door. He reached into his tux pocket for his key card and swiped it. “Come in.”
She stepped into his hotel room. She’d been in the rooms here before, several times, and they never failed to impress. Dan’s room was done in cream and gold, with a window overlooking the valley and mountains beyond. He went to the window and pulled the drapes, and then to his dresser, where he took out a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.
“Here. Can you manage to change without fainting again?”
It was said with concern, not venom, and his eyes were clearly worried. She touched her cheek; it flamed beneath her fingers. “I think so.”
“Don’t lock the door. You scared me when you fainted.”
The fact that she even had the power to fright
en him made her insides twist with unease. She shouldn’t be here. Not in his hotel room. She sniffled again, so without answering, she went into the bathroom, blew her nose, and slowly changed out of her sweater and trousers and into the boxers and oversize tee.
They smelled like him. Worse, his scent was just the same as it had been eight years ago. A woman didn’t forget, and Dan’s unique scent was intrinsically tied to her memories.
When she came back out, he’d opened a bottle of water and put some in a glass for her. “Do you have any medicine left?”
She nodded. “In my bag. But they’re not helping.”
“The acetaminophen might at least help with the fever and aches.”
God, yes. The aches.
He retrieved her bag, and she got out the bottle of pills and then dutifully drank all the water as she took two. She couldn’t stop shivering now, particularly since the T-shirt and boxers were not exactly warm.
“Here. Get into bed.” He turned down the covers and she slid inside, sighing as he covered her with the soft sheet and duvet.
“Oh, God,” she said, closing her eyes. “It feels so good to be off my feet. This bed is... Oh, it’s bliss.” She burrowed deeper into the covers, the mattress so comfortable, she wondered if she would ever want to get up.
“You should have gone home hours ago,” Dan said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed, and she sighed when his fingers grazed some hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear. The simple touch was incredibly soothing.
“Are you going back to the dance?” she asked, her breath deepening. “You’re the best man. You should go back.”
“Sure,” he replied, but his voice sounded far away. “You just get some rest.”
Her breathing started to deepen... The bed was just so comfortable, and even though she was still shivering, she was far cozier. “You’re the last person who should be looking after me,” she murmured.
“I know.”
His voice was soft. Not quite accepting. Resigned? Her heart ached at the thought. Regret seeped through her, knowing she hadn’t been fair to him all those years ago. She’d hurt him, deeply. For good reasons, but it didn’t erase the result.
“About when I left, Dan...”
“Not now. Get some sleep. You need it.”
She felt the bed lighten as he got up, heard a door open and then close again. Then she heard nothing at all as she fell into sleep.
* * *
Dan wiped a hand over his face and watched Adele shift beneath the covers, still sleeping.
He’d spent the night on the cramped little sofa in the sitting area of his room, with a spare blanket from the closet. He hadn’t really minded; despite his conflicting feelings for Adele, she was definitely sick and had fought to hang on throughout the day, like a complete professional.
Seeing her start to collapse in the lobby had sent his heart to his throat. He’d just caught her before she crumpled to the floor, and then lifted her into his arms. It had been a bittersweet sensation, holding her close like that. It brought back memories, good ones. When they were younger and silly and so full of each other. She hadn’t really changed, either. She fit in his embrace just as easily as she had all those years ago.
He hadn’t gone back to the reception. He’d been genuinely worried about her fever. She’d been burning up, and weak enough that she’d fainted. Leaving her alone had seemed cold and unfeeling, so instead he’d gone into the bathroom, taken a long, hot shower, pulled on a pair of sweats and tried to get some sleep. Her sneezing woke him a few times in the night, as well as some random mumblings he couldn’t make out. The talking in her sleep was a new development, and he’d fought to understand the garbled words. He’d come up blank, though. She’d been pretty incoherent.
He still wasn’t sure what meeting up with her again was supposed to mean. Closure? Maybe. He certainly hadn’t been able to make a relationship stick since she’d left. Wouldn’t it be something to be able to get some answers to his questions and finally leave her behind him?
She mumbled in her sleep again and his brow furrowed. This didn’t feel like closure. It felt messy.
He ordered up some breakfast and dressed in jeans and a sweater. Today was a wedding party “tea” off-site, very casual, and a way to wind down the celebration before Pete and Holly left for their holiday in Jamaica. By then, he’d probably have Adele back home and he could say goodbye.
The thought left him feeling oddly bereft.
A knock at the door announced room service, and once the cart was delivered and he’d tipped the server, Adele began to stir. She’d been asleep for nearly twelve hours.
“Dan?” Her voice was raspy. She pushed her hair out of her face and sat up a bit. “Was that the door?”
“I ordered some breakfast.”
“What time is it?”
“Half-past ten.”
She still held the covers close. “I slept all the way through.”
“You did.” He poured her some orange juice, took it to her and then sat on the bed. “Here. Drink this.” As she sipped from the glass, he touched her forehead. Still hot, though perhaps not quite as hot as last night. The sleep had done her good.
“That’s so good,” she said, finishing the glass of juice. She shivered. “I don’t know why I’m still so cold.”
“Because you’re not well yet. You’re just...better.” She didn’t look better, though. Her eye makeup from yesterday was smudged, and her hair was puffed up on one side. But the glassy look was gone from her eyes, at least.
“I should get going...”
She went to pull back the covers, but he was sitting on them. “There’s no need to rush. I ordered you some tea and toast. Scrambled eggs, too, if you want some.”
She laughed, and then started to cough a little. “You and your eggs.”
He shrugged. Friday, when she’d remembered how much he liked eggs in the morning, he’d been taken aback. Not just that she remembered, but that she’d actually mentioned it. Her eyes had lit up with that little bit of mischief he remembered. They’d been together for three years. A lot of memories had been made—ones he couldn’t erase no matter how much he tried.
“We can eat and then I can take you home, if you like.”
Her face changed, the easy expression replaced by awkward tension. He hadn’t meant it to sound like he was trying to get rid of her, but he could tell that was how she’d taken it.
“I’m okay to drive today. I still feel like I was hit by a bus, but it’s better than last night.”
“Whatever you want, Adele.” He softened his voice, trying to keep the tense energy in the room from escalating. “But eat something first.” He poured her tea. “And have some tea.”
She accepted the cup and thanked him. “I swear, I’ve had more tea in the last few days than I’ve had in a month.”
“It’s good for you. That and chicken soup.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale.”
“Not true. There’s actual science behind it.” He came back to the bed, took her mug, set it on the nightstand and then put a plate in her hands.
“Raspberry jam. My favorite.”
It seemed she wasn’t the only one with a good memory. He’d remembered she preferred raspberry to strawberry, and grape jelly ahead of both.
She started to eat, and their conversation ceased. Dan started to feel more and more awkward. Last night she’d been so ill and tired, he’d merely tucked her into bed. Today he didn’t know what to say or do. She would be walking out of his life again in probably an hour or so. They’d say goodbye and that would be it. She’d go on with her life; he’d go on with his. And this weekend would become one of those “remember that time you ran into your ex at our wedding?” memories he’d share with his friends.
So why did it feel so...wrong? Like t
here was something left he was meant to do?
He went to the dresser and got the remote for the TV. An old Friends rerun was on, and he flipped through a few channels until he got to some type of home improvement show on the Home and Garden Television network.
“Dan?”
He turned around and she was standing there, dressed in his boxers and T-shirt. His mouth went dry. Despite the smeared mascara and wild hair, Adele was still a beautiful woman. Her curves were hidden beneath his clothes, but he knew they were there, and even though she wasn’t a tall woman, her legs seemed to go on forever.
She put the plate on the cart. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For looking after me last night. I was in no shape to drive. You could have put me in a cab and you didn’t.”
“You’d fainted. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
“That was big of you. Considering...well, considering how much you must resent me.”
He did. And yet he didn’t. It was easier to hate someone when they weren’t standing in front of you. Easier to reduce them to a two-dimensional “character” in your life than a flesh-and-blood, flawed but sweet woman.
“I don’t resent you,” he said, knowing it was only a half-truth. “It’s just awkward because we have history.”
Awkward. Another massive understatement. Truthfully, spending time with Adele yesterday had reminded him of some of the things he’d really liked about her. She was smart, efficient, capable, funny, compassionate. Her one flaw was not wanting to be his wife.
Maybe he needed to finally get over that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ADELE KNEW SHE should change out of Dan’s clothes and go home. It was the sensible thing to do. And yet...she couldn’t. Not yet. Because this would really be the end, wouldn’t it? Walking away hadn’t been easy then and it wasn’t now, either. Because this time she was sure he wouldn’t be back. The moment she went through his hotel room door, that was it.
“What is it?” he asked, coming to stand in front of her. She’d been quiet for so long that concern wrinkled his brow. “What’s the matter?”