The Saint's Wife

by Lauren Gallagher

  She swallowed. “I’ll head over there as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks,” Hilary said. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

  Somehow, Joanna doubted “happy” was the word Chris would’ve used.

  Joanna knew pretty much every hallway of this hospital by heart. Chris had been here so many times—surgeries, treatments, infections, setbacks, emergency room visits, more infections, more surgeries, more setbacks—that she didn’t even need to look at the signs to get to the correct ward.

  At the entrance to the ICU, she stopped at the nurses’ station. “I’m here to see Chris McQuaid, please.” She paused. “I’m…his wife.” As long as he needs me, apparently.

  The nurse had her sign in, and then gestured down the hall. “Room twelve.”

  “Thank you.”

  The first time she’d come here, it had seemed like something out of a horror movie. The smell of cleansers and things she didn’t want to identify. The constant beeping and clattering of machinery. Tubes, wires, syringes, basins—she’d never imagined she’d be so used to a place like this.

  Outside of room twelve, Joanna paused. Why was she doing this to herself? Another round of letting Chris berate her for things she had and hadn’t done? Was this going to be some sort of guilt trip? Maybe the infection was her fault. She hadn’t been there when he’d started showing symptoms. Hadn’t taken him to the hospital soon enough. Or everything she’d done—cheating, leaving, forcing him to face a divorce right now—had stressed him out and fucked up his health, and he wanted to make sure she knew it.

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. She didn’t have to do this. Chris had sent her divorce papers. The marriage was over. She was no longer obligated to be there in sickness or in health, never mind to take whatever venom he’d called her in to take.

  On the other hand, she had no idea how bad his condition really was. If he wasn’t doing well, there might not be much time left. Infections and cancer patients didn’t mix well. It was entirely possible this would be her last chance to make peace with him.

  Or hear, from his possible deathbed, all the reasons why this was her fault.

  She glanced back at the nurses’ station. All she had to do was sign herself back out. There was no minimum time, no need to prove she’d actually visited the person she’d come to see. No one would ask any questions, except maybe Chris.

  Shifting her gaze back to the door, she pushed out a breath. He’d asked her to come here, and she had. Self-preservation tried to send her running for the hills, but curiosity and that lingering sense of obligation kept her feet planted.

  She squared her shoulders and set her jaw. If he decided to get ugly with her, she could leave. She was done walking on any eggshells, and she wasn’t running away. Not yet.

  “Ma’am?” A male voice turned her head, and she met eyes with a young nurse in green scrubs. He raised his eyebrows. “Do you need help finding a room?”

  “No. No.” She gestured unsteadily at the door. “This is where I need to be. I just…needed a minute.”

  “Oh. All right. If you need anything…” He nodded past her at the nurses’ station.

  “Thank you.”

  He offered a pleasant smile, and with some effort, she returned it. After he’d gone, she glanced skyward, whispered “God, help me,” and pushed open the door.

  The beeping sounded completely different in here. The monitors were probably identical to the ones in the other rooms, but in this room, the sound strafed her nerve endings. Especially as she closed the door behind her, sealing herself in with the beeping, the blinking, and…

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  Him.

  Chris didn’t speak, but he was definitely lucid. They fixed their gazes on each other.

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  For a moment, she just took in the near silence and the sight of him. Tubes and wires could make anyone look fragile and frail—they’d had that effect even in the early days of his diagnosis when he still appeared perfectly healthy most of the time—but it wasn’t the medical equipment and the white-with-blue-snowflakes hospital gown. Chris’s face was horrifically pale and gaunt. His arms were thin and covered with vicious-looking bruises. On the heels of an infection, he always looked terrible, but she hadn’t seen him like this in a long time.

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  “Joanna.” He shifted gingerly and adjusted the bed so he was sitting up. He gestured at a chair. “Please.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then accepted the offer and took a seat. Sitting right on the edge, her spine ramrod straight, she folded her hands tightly in her lap and waited. Her heart was going ninety miles an hour, which at least drowned out some of the incessant beeping.

  He took a sip of something—probably just water—from a plastic cup on the tray beside him. Setting it down took some effort, and he cursed softly as the slight tremor in his hand nearly knocked the cup off the tray.

  Joanna fought the urge to steady it. The man had his pride, and he refused to accept his inability to perform simple tasks. Fumbling in front of her would already be enough to mortify him—her help would’ve been insult to injury.

  Finally, the cup was where it belonged, and Chris pushed the tray aside. He started to lace his fingers together on his stomach, but the IV in one got in the way, so he just rested both hands on top of the blanket. “You, um, got the papers?” There was a bizarre lack of accusation in the question. No underlying I know you got them, so why the fuck haven’t you signed them?

  She nodded. “I did, yes. I haven’t signed them yet.” She cringed, expecting him to demand an explanation.

  Instead, he sighed. “It probably doesn’t matter. I don’t think proceeding with the divorce is an option at this point.” He laughed humorlessly. “I probably wouldn’t live to see it finalized unless you arranged it in Las Vegas.”

  Joanna set her jaw. “Our marriage is over regardless of what’s on paper. I think we’ve both known that for a long time.”

  Chris nodded slowly but didn’t say anything.

  “If it’s any consolation,” she said quietly, “I didn’t stay with you for your money. I don’t want your money.”

  “I know. You were always better than that.”

  She replayed the comment in her mind, searching for the sarcastic edge or double meaning, but found none.

  He cleared his throat. “Listen, um. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Since you left, and since David and I had our falling-out.”

  Joanna cocked her head. “What happened with you and David?”

  His thin eyebrow rose. “He didn’t tell you?”

  “No. We haven’t…we haven’t spoken. Not since…” She shook her head. “We haven’t spoken.”

  “Oh.” He seemed genuinely taken aback, his eyes widening a little and his forehead creasing. “I, uh…we haven’t either.”

  Uncomfortable silence descended. She was accustomed to that with Chris, but not like this. Usually, she was squirming under his scrutiny, waiting for some criticism or backhanded compliment. The air between them was different this time, though. Tense. Awkward. But not hostile.

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  Joanna shifted in her chair. “You said you’d been thinking about something?”

  “Yeah, I…” He fidgeted again, fussing with the pillow tucked behind his back, and finally settled. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And this”—he gestured at the IV stand and monitors beside him—“setback has driven a few points home.” He met her eyes. “I don’t have a lot of time left, Joanna.”

  She swallowed. “I know.”

  “I mean…there’s really not much time.”

  Joanna’s chest tightened. “How much?”

  He shook his head, then rested it back against the pillow as if that gest
ure had taken all the energy he had. “It’s hard to say. They had to do some X-rays and scans while I was sick, and found more tumors in the process.”

  She almost choked on her breath. “More?”

  “Yeah. A lot more.” He half shrugged, his frail shoulder moving as if it weighed a hundred pounds. “They’re still small, but…”

  Joanna chewed her lip. Chris didn’t have to spell out what that meant. The cancer was spreading. Fast. The next time he had an MRI or a CT scan, there’d probably be more. And the existing ones would be bigger. The doctors had warned them of this last time, and now…now it was real.

  “I almost didn’t make it,” Chris said suddenly, whispering over the beeping machinery. “The doctor on this floor still doesn’t know why I did.”

  Joanna swallowed. She had no idea what to say.

  Chris shifted slightly, wincing as he pulled himself just a bit more upright. “Jo, this was the first time I went through this alone.”

  Her heart dropped, as did her gaze. “I’m sorry.” It seemed like a useless comment, but no other words would come.

  “No, don’t be.”

  She met his eyes. “What?”

  He moistened his pale lips. “My body definitely didn’t need this, but…maybe I did.”

  Joanna blinked.

  He cleared his throat, wincing a bit, and then went on. “You’ve been there. Every time I’ve been sick, or needed to go to the ER, you’ve always been there.” He tilted his head toward her. “Right there.”

  She shifted slightly. How many hours had she spent in chairs just like this one, kneecaps touching the side of the bed while he fought invisible microscopic battles beneath a coarse hospital blanket? “I should’ve been here this time.”

  “Except I sent you away.” He held her gaze. “The thing is, the last few days, ever since my mind cleared enough, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. At first, I wanted to be angry that you weren’t here, but then I thought about all the times you were. And about what happened before you left.” He paused. “Before I kicked you out.”

  She didn’t break eye contact, but she didn’t speak either.

  Chris gazed at her for a long moment. “I need to know something.”

  She stayed perfectly still, refusing to let her nerves or discomfort show. “All right.”

  “Did you ever love me?”

  Joanna jumped. “What kind of question is that?”

  “One I wouldn’t be asking if I knew the answer.”

  “I…” She coughed to get the air moving through her constricting throat. “Of course I did.”

  “When?”

  She searched his eyes, wondering if the question was a demand or if it was the soft plea it sounded like. “I could ask you the same thing.”

  He clenched his jaw. She gritted her teeth.

  Then she blew out a breath. “Chris, you don’t need this. You should be recovering.” She started to get up. “I should—”

  “Wait.” He put up a hand, but only for a second before he had to drop it back onto his stomach. “Don’t go. Please.”

  She paused but sank back into the chair and folded her hands again.

  “I don’t want you to go.” He exhaled slowly. “To be honest, I…I need you, Joanna.”

  She stared at him. “What?”

  “I’ve lost my best friend and business partner. I’ve lost my wife. All I have left is money and time. One isn’t going to do me a damned bit of good, and the other…well, it’s running out quicker than anything.”

  Joanna flinched. For all their battles and bitterness, it was still hard to believe they were nearing the end. The last few grains slipping through the hourglass, and she had no idea what to feel. What to say.

  “The thing is,” he said, “I’ve had more time to come to terms with it than most people in my position, but I’m still afraid to die.” He swallowed hard. “And after this last week, I’m—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Jo, I’m terrified of dying alone.”

  She shut her eyes, squeezing a hot tear free. There were no words. Nothing she could possibly say. “Chris…”

  “It shouldn’t have taken me this long to figure it out, but…” He laughed softly. “When have you known me to learn something easily?”

  She opened her eyes. What was there to say?

  Chris lifted his hand off his stomach and rested it on the edge of the bed, palm upturned.

  Her eyes flicked back and forth from his hand to his eyes.

  Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

  Heart thumping, she unfolded her fingers. Then, slowly, she reached for him, and took his fragile hand in hers.

  She took a deep breath. “Things have happened.” Though it took some effort, she met his eyes. “Things we can’t go back and fix.”

  “I know. We both did things we shouldn’t have.” He paused. “But for what it’s worth, I won’t ask you to give up someone who has a chance to make you happy like I never did.”

  Joanna stared at him. “You…are you…” She shook her head. “Are you giving me your blessing to…”

  “To be with David? Yes.” Chris held her gaze. “He’s a good man.”

  “I know, he is, but—”

  “You deserve nothing less.” He sighed. “Especially after me.”

  How many times would she have given her right arm to hear him admit that? And how many times would she have been ready to unload on him, to tell him he was damn right she deserved better than him? But now…

  “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

  “You don’t have to. Just…be happy. With him, on your own, with someone else.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t set out to hurt you.”

  “Even if you did, I probably deserved—”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She forced her voice to remain even. “I just need you to know it wasn’t out of revenge or anything like that.”

  “I know you, Jo.” He smiled a little. “That’s not who you are.”

  “Neither is cheating on my husband.”

  He half shrugged. “Which just makes me that much more of an idiot for cheating on you.” He sighed. “If you were going to be with someone else, you couldn’t have picked a better one.”

  Joanna winced. David’s absence still hurt like hell. Chris’s blessing assuaged some of the guilt in her chest, but it didn’t bring David back. Her voice barely carried over the beeping monitor as she said, “I’m starting to understand why you two were so close.”

  Chris chuckled softly. “It only took fifteen years for the two of you to get along.”

  Joanna tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.

  Chris studied her, and his expression turned serious again. “You love him, don’t you?”

  “I…” Joanna studied their joined hands, his thin, bony fingers laced loosely between hers. “I don’t know what I feel about him or anything else.” Slowly, she raised her gaze and met his through her lashes. “Please don’t blame him, though.”

  Chris shook his head, a simple gesture that once again seemed to take so much work. “No, I don’t blame him. Or you. You deserve to be happy, Joanna. And if being with him makes you happy…”

  Joanna swallowed the lump in her throat. “I cheated on you.”

  “So did I.”

  “Two wrongs don’t—”

  “Nothing will make any of this right.” He ran his cool thumb back and forth along the back of her hand. “Now we just do damage control. Make the best out of what’s left. And if that means you’re with David, I won’t stop you.” His fingers twitched a little, and he squeezed her hand gently. “I have no right to ask for anything from you now, but I don’t want to lose you completely.”

  She took a breath. “What do you want me to do?”

&n
bsp; “Just be here.” The pleading in his voice was such an alien thing, it took her a moment to comprehend his words.

  “But…what about…” She wiped her eyes with her free hand. “We’ve both done so much to fuck up our marriage. Do you really want me here?”

  “There’s no one else I want more.”

  Another tear slipped free, and she caught it with her finger.

  Chris continued, “Under normal circumstances, I’d say we should go our separate ways right now and go through with the divorce. Maybe even try to hash out why we did the things we did. But there isn’t much time. And I don’t want to waste that time pointing fingers.”

  Joanna exhaled slowly. “So what do we do?”

  “After the things we’ve both done, I can’t ask you to stay with me as my wife. But we were friends once. And I…” He swallowed and shifted his gaze to meet hers. “I know I’m in no position to ask us to even be that much again, but can you forgive me enough to stay with me until…until this is over?”

  “Stay with you…how?” She chewed her lip. “We can’t go back to what we were before. If I can help, I will, but I don’t…” Joanna struggled to hold his gaze. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

  “Nothing.” He weakly squeezed her hand. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

  Staring down at their hands, she couldn’t put her finger on what she felt. Guilt, shame, grief, anger—so many emotions swirled inside her that they all seemed to cancel each other out. Chris seemed like a stranger now, frail and gentle in front of her like this, and yet she somehow felt closer to him than she had in ages. Her heart even beat in time with his—beep-beep, thump-thump, beep-beep, thump-thump.

  “Jo,” he whispered after a while. “I know you’ve been alone for a long time.”

  Her head snapped up.

  “David told me. That I’d been neglecting you all this time.” Chris laughed bitterly. “I’m just an idiot who had to wait until he’d used up eight and a half of his nine lives and lost his wife to another man, to realize it was true.” He glanced down at their hands, then back at her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jo. I can’t change the past. But…I’m sorry.”