The Army Doc's Secret Wife. Charlotte Hawkes
had been a skiing trip—not that they’d gone after he’d walked out.
Before that failed night Ben had promised to take her, after she’d told him that the highlight of her years in and out of care homes had been a charity group who’d taken a bunch of them to some rundown hostel every year.
Thea shook her head before the memory could get a grip. It was those caring, thoughtful moments from Ben which had meant that the same morning he’d walked out—the morning after they’d made love for the first time—Thea had been screwing up all her courage to suggest that one day they might possibly have more than just a fake marriage. Even if it took time.
Odd, the randomness of the memories which now popped into her head...
‘Yes, it’s a waiting game,’ the nurse confirmed sympathetically.
Thea blinked slowly. Ben didn’t know any of this yet. She stood for a moment, looking down the ward in silence. Life was precious,—so very precious. Why was it that people lost sight of that so easily—including her? Especially her.
Abruptly she stepped forward, as if to steel her body as well as her mind, and headed to the side room. As she got closer she could see the traction which stopped Ben from moving his neck and back, his legs, until they were able to assess the damage. He looked so uncharacteristically fragile that she felt her emotions start to bubble once again.
Ben—who had rejected her not once, but twice, leaving her broken. And yet it seemed entirely fitting that, as she stood by his bedside, across from the nurse as she checked his vitals, Ben chose that moment to wake up.
‘Thea? What are you doing here?’
He recognised her!
She blinked back tears as the nurse swung around to pour a beaker of fresh water and offer a straw for Ben to take a sip. He was clearly still groggy from the sedatives, and his brain was no doubt a mush of memories that he wouldn’t be able to process or even arrange in chronological order. But the fact that he knew who she was an encouraging start. And, despite the painful rasp, the unexpected warmth in his voice at seeing her had caught her off guard. But it had also made her feel more helpless than she’d ever felt before. It was as if the last five years had momentarily been erased.
She wouldn’t cry, she wouldn’t.
‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...’ His voice cracked as he struggled to speak. ‘About Daniel...about the wedding...’
‘Shh...don’t talk. Just rest.’ She blinked furiously to stop the unwelcome tears from falling. Tears of fear, but also of relief.
So much for the concern that he might not remember anything. She should have known better—this was Ben Abrams they were dealing with. She should have known he would fight through.
‘I’m sorry about everything...’
His slurred words were barely clear, but she could decipher them.
‘I’ll protect you, Thea. I’ll never leave you again.’
It was absurd that her heart should lurch so unexpectedly. Thea chastised herself. It was the medication talking—she knew that—and even groggy he wasn’t saying the three words she had once longed to hear. Though no longer. There weren’t any words she wanted to hear from him any more.
Caught up in her thoughts, Thea realised too late that Ben was fighting to move his arm and take her hand. His injured arm. As if in slow motion she watched him struggle to raise his head, only for the restraints to stop him. His eyes slid to the damaged limb as it lay obstinately on the bed, refusing to obey the commands his brain was sending out.
This was happening all wrong. She needed to speak to him, explain things to him—not have him find out for himself...especially not like this. In horror, she saw Ben stare at the arm, then down to the other restraints around his pelvis and spine. Finally came the realisation of memory, and it chased long, furious shadows across his bruised face. His eyes met hers one final time.
‘Get her out of here. Now,’ he snarled, his eyes unexpectedly full of accusation and despair and loathing before he abruptly passed out again.
Did he still blame her for that night? That night when she’d barely been able to think straight with grief. That night she’d craved just a few moments of dark oblivion, to forget everything. An oblivion that only crazy, stupid sex with Ben might have momentarily brought.
Emotions rushed to crowd in on her, dense and suffocating. Her initial relief had been swallowed up in pain, anger, frustration, sympathy and misplaced love. They coursed around her body, leaving her weak and nauseous.
Pain gripped her heart. This wasn’t about her—she knew that—and yet she couldn’t help reliving her utter devastation of almost five years earlier. It wasn’t right that this should be the first time she’d seen him since he’d walked out. It wasn’t right that he should be lying there so battered and broken. And it wasn’t right that—even like this—he still had the power to hurt her.
A strangled sob escaped her throat before she could stop it. Her emotions were pushed to the limit. And suddenly all she could think about was the baby she had conceived as a result of that one incredible night. Their baby—although he’d never known. Almost five years on, she could still feel the pain which had torn at her heart the day she’d lost it.
Another sob threatened to break free and she choked it back just as Dr Fields came back into the room.
‘It’s just the sedative talking.’ He looked up at her sharply before softening his voice. ‘Think of Ben like any other patient, if it helps. Don’t let it get to you, Doctor.’
She bowed her head, unable to speak and yet unable to leave the room.
The surgeon continued. ‘His vitals are stable. Rest is the best thing to help his body to heal at this time, and I’ve no doubt that, despite his initial reaction, seeing you will help to calm any fears he has and help him to be patient until we know more.’
Thea wasn’t so sure. But when Ben woke up she’d finally have to tell him. Everything. Yes, she definitely needed closure.
Five years earlier
‘SHOULD I...? THAT IS...do you want me to carry you over the threshold?’ Ben hesitated at the cottage door, his key still unturned in the lock.
‘Sorry?’
Her voice sounded thick, as if she was in some kind of fug. He could empathise with that.
‘Now we’re married...’ Ben shrugged, feeling uncharacteristically helpless. He didn’t do emotion at the best of times. But Thea’s brother—his best friend—had just died. How was he supposed to support her? ‘I just wondered...’
He trailed off, hating these alien feelings. His career depended on him being decisive and sure. He gathered the best intelligence he could and made his plan of action accordingly. But how did he gather intel on the right way to help a grieving sister? How did he ensure he said the right thing, did the right thing? He didn’t know the right protocols. He didn’t know the rules. It left him feeling ineffective and uncertain.
But he did know it was now his responsibility to help Thea. And that ignoring loss, pretending it didn’t exist, didn’t make it go away. He knew that from bitter experience.
‘I don’t know if I’m expected to carry you over the threshold,’ he stated uncomfortably.
‘Oh. No, Lord, no—of course not.’ Thea shook her head in distress. ‘I just want to get into the house and off this street. I can practically feel the curtains twitching.’
Ben glanced around. Not a single curtain had moved, but he could understand Thea’s discomfort and her need to escape inside.
Marrying someone with whom he’d only