The Wife He’s Been Waiting For

by Dianne Drake

  “Why the hell can’t people just leave me alone? Did it ever occur to you that I’m out here at this lake, all alone, cut off from society, because I want to be?”

  “Actually, yes. It did. When Ina told me where you were, she also mentioned that you didn’t want to be bothered. Which is why I came.”

  “To bother me?”

  “Yes, to bother you. Because I know some of your isolation has to do with me, and I don’t want it to. So I had to come find you, to tell you…”

  “What?” he snapped, finally turning to face her. “That you love me? Because I already know that. So what can you tell me that I don’t already know?”

  The pain was so stark in his eyes it shocked her, and broke her heart. But this time she couldn’t quit, couldn’t back away like she had before. Couldn’t let him bully her into backing away. “I know what it’s like to live with a different image of yourself, to have something you counted on taken away.”

  “My leg?” He barked a bitter laugh. “You don’t know anything, Sarah. Not a damned thing!” Spinning away, he walked through the French windows back into the lodge, and was halfway up the stairs by the time she’d caught up with him.

  “I do know, Michael. I know what it’s like to watch the man you love lose his body image by bits and pieces. To go from a large, athletic man who competed in marathons to one who weighed barely a hundred pounds, who’d lost all his hair, whose skin just hung on his bones. I lived with that, and loved a man who was going through it. So don’t tell me that I don’t know, because I do.”

  “It’s not about my leg,” he insisted, but this time his voice wasn’t so sharp. Turning to face Sarah, he stared down at her but didn’t attempt to come back down the stairs. “And sometimes it gets to the point where body image just doesn’t matter any more.”

  “It never does, Michael. More than once, when he didn’t know that I could see him, I saw Kerry stand at the mirror and look at himself. And cry. The tears weren’t for the cancer, but for the losses he could see in that damned mirror. Inside he was still the same man, but on the outside he was ravaged by an illness he couldn’t control, and the visual reminder was as much a part of what he was dealing with as was his cancer.

  Maybe even more, since it was a constant harbinger even on the days when he wasn’t feeling so bad.

  “And I wasn’t there for him, Michael. Oh, in the physical sense I never left his side. But there’s something more…the things that needed saying. Things he needed to say that I couldn’t hear. Things I wanted to say that I was afraid to. Which is why I’m here. There are things I need to say now, things you need to hear, and I won’t do to you what I did to Kerry.” She fought back a strangled sob, angry that she was reduced to tears. She didn’t want to be because it made her vulnerable, and for Michael’s sake she couldn’t be vulnerable in this. He needed her strength…her complete strength. A strength that had faltered for Kerry, and even for Cameron.

  Bracing herself, she fought off the tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give way to her emotions. Not this time. “So you can run away, Michael, but I’ll just follow you.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sarah. I never wanted to do that. But you don’t understand. I just…just can’t do this.”

  “Then make me understand. You owe me that much, Michael. If you love me, like you said you do, then you owe it to me to make me understand.”

  “Maybe I do.”

  The resignation in his voice was thick, but not as thick as the lines creased into his face now. Michael looked like he’d aged ten years in the past few minutes and she couldn’t help but think that her coming here had caused that.

  “But even if I do make you understand, I still can’t make it right for us, Sarah. What’s broken is inside me, and it can’t be fixed. I’ve tried, but nothing changes. And words are only words. They don’t make the deeds go away.”

  She swallowed hard, still looking up the stairs at him. “After Kerry died, when I was engaged to Cameron, he put me off. I knew something was wrong with him…as his fiancée, as a doctor, I could see it. It showed in every way I looked at him, but yet when I mentioned it to him, asked him if he was feeling well, asked him if he’d had a physical checkup lately, he put me off, the way you’re trying to do now, Michael. And I let him because, for me, it was like Kerry all over again, and I didn’t want to go through that. With Kerry, when our time together was coming to an end he desperately wanted to say so many things to me, to make sure that I would be taken care of. That was important to him and I know it was his biggest worry, yet I would never let him talk about it because I was so adamant about avoiding the obvious, that my husband was dying. I lived in the delusion that if I didn’t talk about it, that would somehow change things. Like you’re doing, I think. So in the end, when Kerry and I most needed to talk, to say everything we’d thought we would have a lifetime to say, I couldn’t do it. I wasted so much time, Michael. Time I’ll never get back. Things I’ll never get to say to the man I loved so dearly. Things I’ll never get to hear him say to me. Then Cameron…I knew he wasn’t well, but I didn’t push it, even though he was in denial. For me, it was safer. And, trust me, I know denial. But when I should have been talking to him…” She paused, blinking back the inevitable tears.

  “It was a doomed relationship before that, and one that was just hanging on by a fraying thread when his diagnosis of leukemia was finally made. So there I was, engaged to marry a man I knew I’d never walk down the aisle with and trying hard to be the support he needed in a difficult time for him. Avoidance is such a hurtful, terrible thing to do to yourself, or to someone you care about. We became so…estranged, because there were so many things that needed saying. Honest feelings I just couldn’t face up to, and Cameron needed that honesty from me, especially when he was so sick, but I was holding back again.

  “It was bad for both of us. Yet I couldn’t leave him, even though I was on the verge of it when his leukemia hit, and I truly believe that the strains we were putting our relationship through at the time made his condition worse. Or, at least, caused him undue stress he didn’t deserve, and which he didn’t need, going into chemotherapy. But I stood by, and it was horrible for both of us because I think we both knew that we would have already ended the relationship if not for his illness.

  “But the thing was, Cameron never knew about Kerry. Cameron was my rebound love after Kerry died and all Cameron ever knew was that I’d been married before. I never told him more than that and he never asked. Then one day, when Cameron was having a particularly bad bout from his chemo, I told him about an herbal tea that had always settled Kerry’s stomach when he had been going through the same thing. It just slipped out. I hadn’t meant it to, but there it was.”

  “And that’s when you ended your relationship to Cameron?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “That’s when he ended his relationship with me. He said I should have told him, and he was right. And I let him down, Michael, just like I did Kerry. I avoided too much, and Cameron sent me away at a time he needed someone to be with him. I could have stayed as a friend, but we were past that point.”

  “Twice, Sarah… I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say. Life doesn’t come with guarantees, does it? I was angry and bitter both times, but mostly hurt. It was easier to run away than face up to so many bad decisions. So I ran.”

  “But both of them made their choices too, Sarah. I don’t want to speak ill of your husband, but it was his choice to let you avoid the things you didn’t want to face. He could have insisted on having those talks you never had, to say those things that never got said. But I have an idea that his choice was to protect you from them because you were so afraid of them, the way it was Cameron’s choice to ignore his symptoms even when you were telling him to get help.”

  “But if I’d been stronger… I wasn’t strong enough to h
elp them through the way they needed to be helped. And that’s the point. My inadequacies are the reason I quit medicine. I was there for them, but not enough, and not in the right way. Which is the same thing as failing them.”

  “It’s not about your strength, Sarah. You are strong. I’ve seen that. What you’ve gone through, twice, are the kinds of things no one is ever prepared to deal with, and sometimes it’s just a matter of getting through the best way you can. You can’t keep condemning yourself for that.”

  “But it wasn’t supposed to be about me. Not with Kerry, not with Cameron. Cameron said that if he’d known what I’d gone through with Kerry he’d have let me go long before he did. I think he knew that the friction we already had between us worsened his condition. I tried, Michael, but it wasn’t right between us. But I didn’t want him to…”

  “To die alone?” he asked, his voice tender. “The way you didn’t want me to die alone?”

  Finally, the tears broke, and she took an angry swipe at them. “People were hateful after Cameron broke it off. They accused me of terrible things, even though Cameron defended me and told everyone that he was the one to leave me. But no one believed that. They simply assumed that I couldn’t take it. Or didn’t want to.” She ducked her head as Michael walked down the stairs then straight over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Which is why I came here today. I have a terrible history of not saying the right things, or not saying anything at all, and I can’t do that again, Michael. Not with you.”

  “And this time you didn’t run, even though that’s what I’ve been trying to force, telling you to leave me alone.”

  She nodded, as the tears streaking down her face blotted against his sweater. “I let down the people I love. I don’t mean to, but that’s how it works out. How can I be a good doctor when I can’t even do what I need to do for the people I love? Twice, Michael. I’ve failed twice. I missed the obvious, let myself be talked out of something I knew, couldn’t bring myself to say or hear the right words… Those are all horrible traits in a doctor. When I took my oath I vowed to do my best, and that includes seeing everything, insisting when the patient is protesting, saying what needs to be said and, most of all, listening. Without the ability to do those, I can’t be a doctor.”

  “So why are you here now, Sarah?”

  “Because I couldn’t fail you, Michael. I fell in love with you and I had to tell you. I know you heard me say it when you were sick, but I wanted you to hear it when you were well. I thought that maybe, if you loved me like you said you did, hearing it from me again would help you get through whatever it is you’re going through. Maybe it would give you something to hold onto. As simple as that. I used to go around thinking there was always enough time, but there’s not. And I don’t want to make any mistakes with you. Not like I’ve done with everybody else. So, I do love you, and that’s why I’m here.” She felt his body go rigid against hers. “I know you have feelings for me, but if the reason you’ve been resisting me is because of your leg…”

  He pulled away from her, but not to retreat up the stairs. like she feared that he might. Instead, he marched to the other side of the room, to the liquor cabinet, where he pulled out a bottle of something she thought to be Scotch.

  “I don’t know if we can work it out between us,” she continued, as he poured a shot in a small glass, then drank it straight down. “But at least I’ve come here to try. It wasn’t easy, Michael. I’d promised myself I’d never get involved again, because that only led to being let down, or to a broken heart. But I’m not one of those people who denies her feelings. I didn’t want to fall in love with anybody, but I did fall in love with you. That’s why this is so hard for me, because I know how much you didn’t want to fall in love with me. But I think you did, Michael. I know you did.”

  He turned around to face her. “I’m glad you’ve been able to work through your problems, Sarah. I’m sure that in time you’ll return to medicine, find yourself a man who deserves you, settle down and have yourself a nice life. But not with me.” He started to pour himself another drink, which was uncharacteristic of him. It was an obvious sign she couldn’t miss, and he wasn’t going to put her off the way Cameron had. She was heart and soul in love with the man who’d given her back the life she’d always loved, and now it was her turn to find a way to give him back his life. But if his disability wasn’t the cause of this, what was?

  “I’ve never asked because I figured that if you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. But how did you lose your leg, Michael? What happened?”

  “I told you it’s not connected to my leg!” he snapped.

  “And if you’ve convinced yourself of that, you’re lying to yourself because even if your leg isn’t the whole cause of what you’re suffering, it plays a part.”

  “Oh, that’s right. This is where you get to be insistent with me, the way you couldn’t be with Cameron. Except with me it isn’t going to work.” He stared at his second drink for a moment before he drank it down. “So you can go now, Sarah.”

  “Was it something stupid you did to yourself? Motorcycle accident? Some other kind of sport-related injury?” She hated this, but she wasn’t ready to give up on Michael yet, not when he was so close to giving up on himself. “Car wreck? Cancer? Diabetic complication?”

  “Go away,” he snapped, brushing his hand through his hair.

  “I read about a climber who got his arm caught by a rock and had to do a self-amputation. Were you a climber? Maybe it was severe frostbite? Tell me, Michael. Tell me what happened.”

  “It’s nobody’s business what happened.” He picked up the Scotch bottle for a third go at it, studied the bottle with pure revulsion on his face, then hurled the mostly full bottle at the wall. It crashed with a vengeance, sending glass shards everywhere while the butterscotch-colored alcohol ran down the wood panels. “Just go away Sarah,” he said, this time the anger all drained from his voice. “There’s nothing here for you.”

  “An industrial accident?” she asked. “Something alcohol-related? Some kind of infection? A compound fracture that wouldn’t heal?”

  He sucked in a deep, rapid breath and forced it out just as quickly. “A landmine. I stepped on a damned landmine and it exploded. So are you happy now that you know? Happy enough to get the hell away from me?”

  Dear God, she hadn’t even been close. “You were in the military?” That surprised her, yet in a way it didn’t, as exact as he was about his actions, about the way he practiced his medicine. He did have that military precision about him, didn’t he?

  “That’s right. I was military. It was all I ever wanted—to be a doctor in a military hospital like my father had been. From battlefield surgeon to cruise-ship doctor all because I…” He broke off, shook his head and headed for the stairs again, but on the way Sarah caught him by the arm, and wouldn’t let go.

  “Tell me the rest of it, Michael.”

  “What makes you think there’s more to tell? I got sloppy. Walked somewhere I shouldn’t have.” With his hand, he made a sweeping gesture toward his leg. “And this is what I got for it. Are you satisfied now?” He shook her off, but she grabbed hold of his arm again, this time fighting to hang on.

  “I know what Kerry saw when he looked in the mirror, Michael. I know what broke his heart. But what do you see when you look in the mirror? What breaks your heart?”

  “What breaks my heart is a self-centered, selfish bastard who couldn’t be bothered to stand by his men. That’s what I see.” He spun away from her and marched up the stairs, but by the time he was at the top, she was right behind him.

  “You forced me to take a good, hard look at myself, Michael. That’s how I’m able to come to you now. In the note you left me, when you said that I needed to live my life for myself, that meant something to me because I really haven’t ever done that. At least, not much in the past years. When I thought about it, I realized what that life was. My medical practice. And you. That’s the life I want to live for myself.”<
br />
  “Well, good for you, Sarah. Except you can only have half of that.”

  “But I don’t want half of it.”

  “Then call me selfish for cheating you out of everything you want, because that’s what I am. Selfish. This is all about me, not you.”

  “You’re not selfish, Michael. I’ve seen that. You care so deeply for people.”

  “Yeah, like I cared so much that I sent my two medics out while I stayed back and took a nap. Sent them out to die while I went to bed, and it got them killed.”

  “I don’t believe that!” she sputtered.

  “Believe what? That I could put myself first? That’s what I did. We were all tired. All equally tired, but somebody had to go, and it was my decision to make. So I sent two people out who were as tired as I was and they went the wrong damn way. Traveled into an area that hadn’t been cleared and got themselves killed doing it. And the hell of it was, it was a non-essential trip. People had to be transported from a first-aid station to the hospital, but they weren’t critical. We could have waited. But I issued the order, and even though my men asked to hold back for an hour or two so they could rest, I made them go anyway.”

  “But you couldn’t have known… I mean, you can’t predict the outcome in a war zone.”

  “Maybe you can’t, but you up the odds of making it a bad one when you send war-weary troops out into the middle of it.”

  “So, how did you…?” She pointed to his right leg. “How did that happen?”

  “After I heard the explosion, I ran that half mile to get to them…don’t even remember it.” He paused, shut his eyes, then drew in a ragged breath. “Rather than sticking to the road, which I knew had been de-mined, I veered off to get there faster, and stepped on a landmine. I don’t remember anything after that for about a week. And they gave me a damned medal for doing nothing.”

  No more words. Michael marched into the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him, leaving Sarah standing alone on the stairs. She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. Turning around, she started back down the stairs, but had taken only a few steps when Michael’s words came back to her. Let your heart tell you what to do. Listen, Sarah. It won’t let you down.