Sheikh, Children's Doctor...Husband / Six-Week Marriage Miracle

by Meredith Webber / Jessica Matthews

  “I should have told you,” she said.

  He shrugged. “We both had problems with communication, didn’t we?”

  At least he wasn’t putting the burden all on her and if he could be magnanimous, so could she. “To be fair,” she began slowly, “some of your staff had quit and you were trying to take up the slack. You had larger problems than wondering why textbooks had appeared on the table. More gelatin?”

  He shook his head, his gaze intent. “Are you working full time?”

  “Officially, no. Unofficially, yes, but I’m not reaping the benefits,” she said ruefully. “However, the director of nursing told me yesterday that the next available position will be mine.” She shoved another gelatin cube in his mouth.

  He chewed, swallowed, then surprised her with his next question. “How was your cousin’s wedding?”

  She froze. “You knew about Angela’s wedding?”

  “She sent me an invitation. I would have gone, but I didn’t want to make the day awkward for you. Things will be different, though, for your next family function.”

  Different?”Excuse me?”

  “I want us to save our marriage, Leah. To fix what went wrong with our relationship.”

  At one time those were words she’d dreamt he would say, but too much time had passed. He was asking for the impossible.

  “I know you went through a traumatic experience,” she said slowly, “and as a result you want to right the perceived wrongs in your life as part of whatever foxhole conversion you experienced, but what happened to us—to me—can’t be fixed.”

  “It can,” he insisted.

  “Not if our relationship is tied to my medical history.”

  “It isn’t.”

  She raised an eyebrow because, to her, it was. “Oh?”

  “It never was.”

  She eyed him carefully. “Maybe I should have Jeff order a CT scan because I think you suffered a concussion. In case you’ve forgotten, our relationship began its downhill slope when I lost Andrew and any chance for more children.”

  “It may have, but we can turn our life around. Children or not, we can make our marriage into whatever we want it to be.”

  His fierce determination was almost contagious, but his rhetoric didn’t change one important fact. This man, who should have gone into pediatrics because he loved little people, was destined to remain childless because she refused to risk another adoptive mother changing her mind in the final hour. And he’d made it quite plain over the years that his biggest wish was to fill his house with children—children she couldn’t give him, whether they were his or someone else’s.

  Neither did his sincerity change the fact that his work at the foundation was probably far more rewarding than simply coming home to her each night. And, yes, she could join him on his trips as she had when they were first married and she’d rearranged her hospital schedule, but deep down she was a homebody while he was a traveler. Eventually, the difference would become an issue again.

  “For what it’s worth, I am glad you’re back,” she said simply, “but now isn’t the time to discuss what went wrong in our life.” She rose to push his bedside table away. “Your only concern should be to give yourself time to heal.”

  He frowned, clearly not liking her response. “I can’t believe you’re giving up on us so easily.”

  “To you, I’m giving up, but to me, I’m finally putting the past behind me. Which is what you should be doing, too.”

  He paused. “How long have you been seeing Jeff?”

  She froze, startled by his question. “Jeff? I’m not … We haven’t … We’re just friends,” she finished lamely, wondering how Gabe had drawn that particular conclusion when she’d been so careful to hide her burgeoning interest in the other man.

  “But you’d like it to be more.”

  “You’re guessing,” she countered, hating it that he could read her so well.

  He shrugged. “I saw the way he looked at you. I only want to know what I’m up against.”

  She didn’t know why she felt compelled to explain, but she did. “We went for a beer a few times with the rest of the ED crowd on a Friday night, but nothing more than that. You and I may have lived apart, but I still took my wedding vows seriously, which was why I was waiting to pursue a relationship with Jeff until after …”

  “After I signed the divorce papers?” he finished.

  “Yes.”

  “But once you heard my plane had crashed, you didn’t need them. Why didn’t you two take things to the next level right away?”

  He sounded more curious than argumentative, so she answered as honestly as she could.

  “If you must know, I wanted to wait until after the foundation’s annual fund-raiser. I’d already decided it would be my last one—and it seemed appropriate for our chapter to end there. Now that you’re back, there isn’t any point in waiting, is there?”

  He paused. “Is that what you want? For me to sign your papers?”

  Was that what she wanted? Perhaps if their differences weren’t irreconcilable, perhaps if they hadn’t grown apart, perhaps if Gabe treated their marriage as a partnership rather than a boss-employee relationship, she could risk giving him another chance, but she couldn’t.

  “While I’m thrilled you aren’t dead,” she said softly, “you have to admit we’re better off apart than we are together.”

  “I disagree.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because we’ve been apart and it hasn’t worked for me. I’ve missed you, Leah. More than you can imagine.”

  “How is that possible?” she asked, more curious than cynical. “You were busy with your work. We rarely talked or saw each other.”

  “That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss the days when we did talk and I spent more time at home than any place else. I want us to reverse course. To go back to the way we were. Before everything happened.”

  Before everything happened—such a polite way of saying before her world went to hell in a handbasket.

  Her mind’s eye flashed to the nursery they’d prepared on two separate occasions. The same room that remained closed to everyone except the housekeeper who periodically dusted and vacuumed. The sore spot in her heart had lessened from the day she’d given up and finally locked the door, but it hadn’t completely disappeared. Her plans to avoid the OB and nursery wing were proof of that.

  “As great as the idea sounds, I don’t know if we can,” she said honestly. “We aren’t the same starry-eyed people we once were and no amount of magical fairy dust will change us back.”

  He tugged her arm until she didn’t have a choice but to perch on the edge of his bed. “Maybe we aren’t the young, naive kids we once were. Maybe the hopes and dreams we once had died, but that doesn’t mean we can’t create new ones. Together.”

  Darn it, but his grip was comforting and once again his voice was so sincere—so full of faith—that the wall she’d created in her heart to hold back her hurts and disappointments began to crumble. Quickly, she struggled to shore up those widening cracks before those emotions overwhelmed her.

  “Life has seasoned us,” he continued softly, “but deep down, we’re the same two people who fell in love. Getting ourselves back on track won’t be easy and won’t happen overnight, but anything worth having is worth fighting for. I’ve had weeks to do nothing but think and I’m asking you to not give up on me or on us.” He paused to caress her hand. “Please.”

  Once again, he’d surprised her. He could have so easily demanded this of her, but instead he’d spoken in a humble manner. Maybe Gabe had experienced a change of heart …. However, as he’d said, he’d had the luxury of time to think about their life while she had not.

  “I love you, Leah,” he added hoarsely. “I want another chance.”

  As his words soaked in, tears sprang into her eyes and the wall inside her completely gave way. Instead of being happy, she felt angry.

  She jerked her hand out of his an
d rose as she clenched her fists and stuffed them into her pockets.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his gaze puzzled as he followed her retreat to the opposite end of the room. “I thought you’d be thrilled—”

  “Do you know…?” She fought the tears clogging her throat. “Do you know how long … it’s been … since you told me that?”

  “Judging from your response, longer than I thought,” he said wryly.

  “I’ll say. And I had to wait to hear it until after you were nearly killed in a plane crash! You can’t spring that on me, out of the blue.” She watched him struggle to swing his legs off the edge of the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting up,” he said as he put action to his words.

  “You can’t. Your IV—”

  “To hell with my IV,” he said fiercely as his first step toward her pulled the tubing taut.

  Fearing he’d rip out the needle and undo her hard work, she hurried close to survey his hand for signs of damage. She’d taped everything down to avoid accidental dislodging, but tape wasn’t a deterrent to a man determined to escape his tether. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I’m trying to get to my wife.”

  Before she could move, she found herself pulled into his embrace. She resisted at first, but the moment his arms surrounded her, she realized this was where she wanted to be. Oh, how she’d missed times like this, when they’d simply been happy to hold each other for no reason, other than “just because”.

  He kissed her forehead before pressing his cheek against hers. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, “but everything is going to be okay.”

  She didn’t answer because she didn’t believe it to be true. How could it? So much had happened, so much had been lost, and they couldn’t regain any of it. Then, after she’d reflected on the bittersweet moment, she pulled away and cleared her throat.

  “You’d better get back into bed,” she fussed, falling into her nurse persona as she avoided his gaze.

  He didn’t quibble but simply allowed her to help him sink onto the mattress, which spoke of how much his gesture had cost him. “I liked where I was,” he said instead as she covered his legs with the blanket.

  How could she answer? She had enjoyed his embrace, too, but she shouldn’t. She’d wanted a divorce, for heaven’s sake! Ending their marriage was the only solution because she could no longer define their relationship. Were they friends or enemies, or just two hurting people who’d lived together until she’d realized the status quo wasn’t enough? Did she still have feelings for him or was she just falling into old habits because she was relieved that he hadn’t died? Did she respond because of those feelings, or because it had been so very long since someone had comforted her or held her in his arms?

  “Didn’t you?” he pressed.

  She hadn’t followed his conversation because she’d been so caught up in trying to answer her own questions. “Didn’t I what?”

  “Like where you were?”

  Knowing his tendency toward persistence—he wouldn’t stop asking until she answered—she intended to deny her feelings until she met his gaze. To her surprise, she didn’t see a smirk or satisfaction in those dark depths. Instead, she saw hesitation and uncertainty.

  Her strong, silent, take-charge husband suffered from the same doubts and insecurities she did, and she’d never noticed until now.

  “Come on, Leah,” he coaxed. “Talk to me.”

  “If I tell you the truth, will you hush and rest?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes, I enjoyed where I was, but—” she injected a firm note into her voice “—that doesn’t mean anything. It can’t.”

  “Because you still want a divorce.” She didn’t necessarily want one; she simply didn’t have any other option. “It’s for the best,” she prevaricated.

  He fell silent. “Okay, then,” he said. “I’ll sign your papers.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  GABE looked on as Leah stared at him in mute surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to give in so readily. “You will?” she finally asked.

  “Yes, but I have some conditions.”

  One corner of her kissable mouth turned up in disgust. “Naturally. And they are?”

  “We move back in together first and see if we can make our marriage work.”

  “No.”

  “It’s the only way I’ll sign.”

  She opened her mouth then snapped it closed before she glared at him. “This is blackmail.”

  “It’s negotiation,” he countered.

  “Your idea is pointless.”

  “We’ll never know if we don’t try. Whatever we do, don’t you want to be sure, absolutely certain, that we’re doing the right thing?”

  “I’m already certain,” she told him. “I was certain weeks ago, when I came by and delivered that folder of documents.”

  “Well, I’m not.” He softened his tone. “Come on, Leah. If you’re so certain, think of this as your opportunity to convince me it’s the right thing to do.”

  “We don’t need to live together for me to convince you.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s one of my conditions.”

  “But—”

  “Next,” he interrupted her to add, “we have to really try to heal our marriage. Not simply live together like we did before, as married singles with each of us going our own way. We’ll spend time together and we’ll talk. No more overworking, no more avoiding our emotions or minimizing our feelings. We say what we mean and we mean what we say. And if we can’t open up to each other, we’ll go to a professional counselor.”

  She fell silent and Gabe hardly breathed as he waited for her answer. “Is that a condition, too?”

  He nodded. “We’ll definitely fail if the effort is one-sided or if we focus on the negatives instead of the positives. Surely you can invest a few weeks to salvage a ten-year marriage?”

  “And who’s to say one of us isn’t working ‘hard enough’.” She made quotation marks in the air.

  “If you think I’m not holding up my part of the bargain, you have to say so. I’ll do the same.”

  Once again, she hesitated. “How long do you want this ridic—this exercise to last?”

  He had a feeling she’d intended to call his trial run “ridiculous” but the fact that she’d corrected her negative remark suggested she was warming ever so slightly to the idea. “Until the foundation ball.”

  “Six weeks?” she sputtered. “No. Impossible.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m objecting because six weeks is a long time to prolong the inevitable.”

  “Six weeks will pass by in a flash. As for the outcome being inevitable, maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, but if you quit one day short of our agreement, I won’t sign the papers,” he warned. “We’ll end up with the messiest divorce in state history.”

  Dividing their property wouldn’t be the problem. Leah hadn’t been interested in his family money and hadn’t touched a dime in the account he’d created for her after she’d moved out. Her Achilles’ heel was the notoriety and publicity associated with divorcing the heir to the Montgomery fortune. And from the resignation in her eyes, she realized he could turn their divorce into a headline or a simple record on the district court blotter.

  “You aren’t playing fair,” she complained. “A month should be more than enough.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Six weeks doesn’t seem like very long when you’ll have the rest of your life to spend with Jeff, or anyone else for that matter.”

  Her shoulders slumped in obvious capitulation. “I suppose not.”

  “There’s also one more thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “I want you to go with me when I head to Ciuflores, Mexico, in three days.”

  “What?” she screeched. “You’re going back to Mexico, and you want me to go with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That settles
it,” she said firmly. “You definitely need a CT scan. Heck, probably a neurologist.”

  “My head is fine.”

  “Fine or not,” she snapped, “my answer is no. Absolutely no.”

  He shrugged, as if unfazed by her outburst or her objection. “Then no signature.”

  “Why in the world would you want to go on another trip?” she asked, clearly ignoring his comment. “You barely came back alive from the last one. You should be giving yourself time to recover, not rushing to jet around the world again.”

  “In three days, I’ll have recovered.”

  “No one heals from cracked ribs that quickly. You’ll be sore and bruised. And you’ll still need antibiotics for your leg, too.”

  “I’ll take the antibiotics with me. And with you there to make sure I take them I’ll be fine.”

  “Fine or not, why you, Gabe? You can’t be the only member of the Montgomery Foundation who can travel.”

  “No, I’m not, but Sheldon told me just before you came in with my lunch that Father David had called and asked for supplies. They’re in the middle of a flu epidemic and the situation is dire. I can’t refuse his request—he’s my friend.”

  Father David Odell was Gabe’s old schoolfriend and although they’d taken different paths in life, they’d kept in contact. For the past few years David had served as the spiritual advisor to a poor community and had been instrumental in introducing Gabe to the two physicians who were the sole medical providers in the remote area. It hadn’t taken long for the local doctors to recognize the advantages being handed to them through the generosity of the Montgomery Medical Foundation. Eventually, Gabe had arranged for the tele-medicine link for which his organization was famous, and two months ago he’d delivered the equipment and trained the staff on its use.

  “Fine. If you want to go, then go. But I’m—”

  “I need you, Leah,” he said simply. “The people of Ciuflores need you. An extra pair of medically trained hands is in as much demand as anything I can supply.”