heard him correctly. She knew he would be angry, but she didn’t think he’d refuse to grant her a divorce. He had been the one to walk out on their marriage.
“I’m not signing your papers.”
She took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly before speaking. “This may not have been the best place to approach you, but it was going to happen sooner or later. We’re separated. We only see each other at work. Our only conversation is about our mutual patients. We aren’t in counseling. What did you expect to happen? Where else could this go?”
He seemed befuddled, as if he hadn’t contemplated this reality. He licked the corner of his mouth, deciding his next move. “I’m not signing your divorce papers,” he said with hard conviction. “I’m not granting you a divorce.”
“Why not?”
He wiped his forehead, and for Brock, who prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, this gesture was as good as him falling out of his big leather chair.
So she pushed. “Why are you trying to make this so difficult?”
“I can’t talk about this right now. I have to get ready for morning rounds.”
“I expected you to be mad I’d beaten you to filing, but I didn’t think you’d play games.” She spoke the words out of frustration of believing her feelings were being discounted again. The man who once put her happiness above everything in his life hadn’t been able to have a meaningful discussion with her in seven months. She couldn’t spend any more time trying to figure him out. She had to move on with her life.
“This may be some sort of a race for you, but I won’t end my marriage without any thought because I’m in a rush to get to rounds.”
“How much thought went into you leaving?”
His eyes shifted away from her. Being the first to break eye contact meant he was floundering.
A pang of worry moved through her. Brock was a formidable opponent for anyone who challenged him. He used his silence to retreat into his defensive shell, hiding his emotions from her. She’d given him the perfect opportunity to end it all, but he hesitated. Hadn’t he suddenly become distant the week before he’d packed his bags and left their home? Asking for a divorce had caught him off guard, but it wasn’t like him to be stunned speechless. Something else was going on. She’d suspected some hidden agenda since the day he up and ended their relationship without warning or cause.
She softened her voice and called his attention back to her. “Brock?”
After a long moment of intense contemplation, his gaze met hers again.
“Are you okay?”
He spoke with a passion long missing from their marriage when he said, “I’m not divorcing you, Erika.”
CHAPTER 2
He refused to let her go.
He couldn’t let her go.
Brock knew he must let Erika go. Wasn’t this what he’d decided the first day? The moment he found out, his first thought had been of Erika and what it would mean to her life. He had struggled with his decision, continued to struggle with it now, but the right thing to do was to end his marriage with the hope that Erika would go on to live a happy, productive life. It was the reason he’d started to pull away from her. Not because he didn’t love her. It had been difficult to watch her hurt as he withdrew his affection, stamping out the core foundation of their marriage, but in the end, it would shorten her suffering.
He watched Erika approach, her crisp white lab coat unable to hide the fluid shift of her hips. He could smell her sweetness before she reached him, his mind playing tricks because he missed the softness of her touch, the unspoken understanding of his quirky ways, the gentleness of her kiss, and the ever-present support she gave by holding him in her arms.
He had come to the realization he had to end his marriage, and believed himself emotionally ready to accept his fate—until she walked into his office the other morning announcing she’d taken the necessary steps to end their limbo. The divorce papers made it too real. He had almost choked as his breakfast pushed its way up into his throat. His love for her materialized with such force he had become irrational, refusing to sign the papers when he had promised her a long time ago he’d always give her whatever she wanted.
“How’s my patient doing?” Erika’s presence settled around him like a broken-in blanket, soft and fuzzy and warm. He wanted to wrap her around him and absorb the love she had once offered. She encompassed the opposite of all of his qualities. Her kindness was genuine and unlimited, freely given to everyone she encountered. She calmed him, and made him believe he was invincible. Her face was not only flawlessly beautiful, her expressions openly displayed each of her emotions. She had barged into his life unexpectedly, opening her heart to him without pretense, and he’d immediately fallen in love with her.
“He’s stable. Neuro wants to keep him in the ICU for a few more days.” They began to leave the unit, walking side by side, her nearness enough to weaken his knees.
“Any deficits from the stroke?”
They were all about business, no signs of the closeness they’d once shared. “Hard to tell until he wakes up.”
She shook her head. “It was blood pressure related. He wouldn’t take his antihypertensives. He kept telling me he felt fine. I kept telling him it’s common to be asymptomatic with hypertension.”
“You did all you could do,” he assured her as he stood aside to allow her to exit the unit first.
“There’s always more I can do.”
Erika always thought there was more she could do for her patients. She took it hard when one became acutely ill. He’d witnessed her crying when her patients died. She offered a tiny piece of her soul to everyone she encountered, losing a bit of herself when those she cared about were hurting. His duty as her husband, as the man who loved her more than anyone else ever could, was to replenish her mind and body. How could he be contemplating reneging on his original plan and refusing her a divorce when his situation threatened to destroy her?
“Don’t beat yourself up for what you can’t control,” he told her.
She glanced up at him, cleverly finding double meaning in his words. She stopped, turning to him. “Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to.”
“No, they don’t.” He itched to reach out and caress her lips, wiping away her frown.
“We shouldn’t belabor this.”
He glanced away, checking the hallway to find they weren’t alone. “We’ll talk. Later.”
She watched him, clouds of confusion washing over the smooth planes of her face. “I’m going to hold you to it, Brock.”
He pressed his lips together, afraid he was about to blurt out how he really felt. Instead, he nodded.
“I’m going to check on my patient. I want to speak with his wife. See how she’s holding up.”
The long-suffering wife. Afraid her husband was going to die, prematurely leaving her and ending their life together. It would kill him to see Erika hurting this way.
“Erika,” he called as she walked away.
She turned to face him. Her gentle nature was palpable, warming the air and washing over him in soft waves. How could she be strong and determined, and so loving and forgiving at the same time? He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t let her go. He needed to be in her heart; he had to be the man of her dreams.
“Brock?”
He blinked, unable to clear his warring emotions.
She came to him. “Are you okay?”
He watched for her reaction as he lifted his hand and rested his palm against