sperm, the surgical removal of his testicle would severely limit it.
“It may become an issue.”
Brock couldn’t handle any more issues right now.
“Visit a sperm bank before we begin treatment,” Hassan said matter-of-factly. “Secure your future ability to make a choice.”
CHAPTER 3
“Good. It’s done, then.” Mark Garing was the opposite of what Brock had become. He expressed his feelings for Erika at every opportunity. He was affectionate and available, knowing how to manage his work and still have a social life. It was his warmth, when Brock’s love had turned chilly, that had made Erika gravitate toward his friendship.
“Not quite,” she told him.
“What do you mean?” He placed his arm across her shoulders, bringing her into him. He always sat next to her in the booth of their favorite restaurant, telling her he didn’t like the table separating them.
“Brock said no.”
“No?”
“No, he wouldn’t sign the papers, and, no, he won’t give me a divorce.”
“How can he not give you a divorce if you’re asking for it?” Mark lifted his drink to his lips, sipping it slowly as he gathered his thoughts.
Erika angled toward him. “I think he knows about us.”
“Did he say something?”
She repeated Brock’s cryptic statements. Mark was the kind of man who grew on you, and before you had realized what had happened, you were falling for him. His kindness made him a good friend; his openness would make him a good lover. A friendly person, he’d come across the hall the day before he saw his first patient in the new eye clinic to introduce himself. He’d waited patiently, being a good but not intrusive friend, until Erika had shared the news of her separation from Brock. Two months later, he’d made his attraction known. Another month passed before Erika’s lonely heart told her it was all right to start dating. After keeping their relationship discreet for four months, Mark was getting anxious.
“It sounds like he knows,” Mark agreed. “Is that all he said?”
She nodded.
“What are you going to do? He has to give you a divorce,” he added as an afterthought. “Once the shock wears off, he’ll come around.”
Shock was not what she’d seen on Brock’s face when she handed him the divorce papers. She couldn’t quite name what emotion had caused the fiery storm in his eyes, but she would. She would have to. She needed to know what he was thinking—feeling, because whatever was moving through his heart and mind was keeping him from giving her her freedom. His sudden public display of affection outside the ICU only helped to muddy the waters. She didn’t know what was going on with him, but maybe it was the answer to this whole strange situation.
“That’s your cell,” Mark said, jostling her.
“Dr. Johnson,” she answered.
“Erika, I’ve been called to see one of your patients in the ER,” Brock said without formalities. “I just finished the consult. I’m going to admit him. Meet you in the ER?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?” Brock questioned. “Where are you?”
“Out of the hospital having dinner. I’ll be right there.” She hung up before he could question her further.
“Let me guess,” Mark said. “You’re meeting Brock. It wouldn’t be about the divorce papers, would it?”
She shook her head, already putting on her jacket. “One of my patients is in the emergency room.”
Mark grunted, downing his drink.
“What? If something’s on your mind, say it.”
“Is there some reason Brock can’t handle the admission?”
“I like to evaluate my patients when they’re admitted to the hospital. I’ve always done it this way. The receiving doctor calls to notify me, and I go in to check on my patient.”
“You can consult over the phone like all the other doctors do.”
“Too impersonal. My patients count on me being there.”
Mark nodded, his expression saying he wasn’t convinced.
“What do you think this is about?”
“I think your husband has said he won’t divorce you, and now he’s tightening the reigns. You said yourself he’s suspicious about us. He’s going to do everything he can to keep you close to him until he’s ready to make his move.”
“Brock will get over my asking for a divorce, and then he’ll sign the papers. Remember, he left me. It was just a shock to him. That’s all.”
Mark shook his head, not convinced.
“Believe me, he wants this as much as I do.”
“And how much do you want it, Erika?”
She angled toward him. “What does that mean?”
“Take him to court and force him to divorce you. He can’t stop it, really.”
“Make it as ugly as possible? No, I won’t do it. Brock will come around. If he doesn’t soon, I’ll nudge him.”
“And in the meantime, what about us?”
“I’m not quite sure what you’re asking.”
“We started dating four months ago.” He ran the rough pad of his thumb over her cheek, across her lips, and down her neck, stopping in the cleavage underneath the dainty fabric of her blouse. “Do we stay at a standstill while we wait for Brock to ‘come around’?” Another finger flicked at the button above his thumb. “Or do we get to know each other better?”
Mark had been patient about advancing their physical relationship, always knowing it would happen when she’d settled her marriage. With Brock’s refusal came Mark’s insistence.
“With everything so fragile right now, and Brock probably aware we’re dating, I don’t want to do anything to push him the other way.”
Mark searched her expression, daring the truth to be other than what she’d stated. She was physically attracted to Mark, but she was a married woman. Her morals won out over her libido every time. Finding no deception, he pulled his hand away. He leaned in and gently kissed her cheek. “Call me when you’re done seeing your patient.”
In the emergency department, Brock had returned to his old stoic self, discussing Erika’s patient’s case with cold formality. She watched him, jotting down his orders in the chart, careful not to look at her directly. They concluded their business without any discussion of their personal lives. She stopped in to go over the plan of care with her patient, promised she’d see him during her rounds, and left the hospital saddened and confused.
She didn’t know what she had wanted to happen. She told herself she hoped only for some explanation of why he had left her in the prime of their marriage when she was still discovering new things to love about him. If she admitted the truth, she wanted more. She wanted him to tell her he’d made a mistake—not about refusing to sign the divorce papers, but to driving her to even consider dissolving their three-year marriage.
She got nothing from Brock. He gave her no hint as to how he was feeling about her, about their marriage, about her request for a divorce. His focus never wavered from giving the patient his best, and she wondered when he had stopped wanting to give her his best.
Erika arrived in the Oakland County, Michigan, suburb to a beautiful 3,000-square-foot luxury home—the home Brock had left for a tiny apartment in the residents’