To Honor (4 page)

All for a woman I don’t even like.

The acknowledgment, too much to bear, landed solidly in his mind. Not once when he’d talked to Landers had he ever experienced the desire to be with her. When he’d looked at his wife and told her he wanted a divorce, thoughts of being with Landers hadn’t filled his head. Instead, he’d thought only of the anger that seethed deep inside. An anger that should have been directed at himself, but instead he’d used it to hurt the one person he truly loved.

“I’m so sorry, Evelyn,” he whispered against his palms. “I’ll do everything I can to make this right again.”

In the silence that followed, hot tears flowed freely.

C
hapter Four

Raindrops tapped at Evelyn’s window like an ardent teen attempting to gain his lover’s attention. The summer storm, gentle and persistent, soothed her regardless of what was going on. Evelyn had always liked the sound of rain; the way it rhythmically washed away her awareness until she floated in a cradle of distant seas.

“Mrs. Moore?”

Evelyn flinched inwardly at the voice, the way it ripped her from her private getaway. With a sigh, she rolled over and lifted her head to acknowledge the nurse standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

The nurse, dressed in scrubs depicting paw prints of bright colors against a soft pink background, looked young and inexperienced. “You’ve been in bed all day. You haven’t attended any of the group sessions according to your records. Would you please get up?”

“No.” Evelyn pulled the covers over her head and snuggled against her pillow. The damn medical staff had been bothering her all day. She wished they’d just go away, leave her alone. Or better yet, consider her a lost cause and release her.

Surprise twisted her stomach when the bed creaked under the weight of someone sitting down beside her. She stayed perfectly still, and hoped her lack of reaction would make the person realize they weren’t wanted. The minutes ticked by as the rain continued to persistently tap on the window.

“I read your chart. You have every right to be sad.”

Evelyn recognized the voice of the nurse who’d just attempted to persuade her out of bed. She remained silent and still, trying to control the angry tears that stung her eyes and the sobs that formed a lump in her throat. The woman had read her chart? That meant she knew everything. Not just about Derek but about…

“It makes me tear up just imagining what you’ve been through. As much as I’d love to, I can’t wave a magic wand and fix it. No one can. You can, however, keep moving forward.” The nurse patted Evelyn through the blankets.

“Why?” Evelyn licked her lips as she became aware of the raspy sound of her voice. Cotton mouth made her tongue thick and heavy, like it was swollen. "Why even bother?"

The nurse paused, hand still resting on Evelyn’s shoulder. “Because if you lie down and die, if you just give up, you are letting the evils of the world win. I suppose I’m a little naive, but I’d like to think—no, I have to believe—that when the bad stuff knocks us down, it is our responsibility to stand back up and prove we’re made of sterner stuff. Good doesn’t prevail because the fairytales say it does, good prevails because of those who are strong enough to stand back up. Mrs. Moore, you are strong, you just need a little help.”

Tears flowed freely down Evelyn’s face, burning hot against her skin. Her body jerked in silent sobs that wracked through her, despite her wishes. “There’s nothing left to stand up for,” she managed to whisper.

I can’t be the man for you anymore. I want a divorce.

“Everything and everybody I’ve ever loved is gone.”

Mrs. Moore? You’ve been in a serious accident. Your baby…she didn’t make it.

The nurse began patting her again, a soft pressure that fell into rhythm of the rain tapping on the window. “Not everybody. Mr. Moore visited the front desk all day and pestered the receptionist about seeing you. But we can’t let you have visitors until you show some improvement. He’s already set up some marital therapy for the two of you.”

Evelyn listened to the words, but it took her a moment to wrap her mind around them. Derek, here? He said he wanted a divorce, and now he’d set up marital therapy. None of this made sense, and yet hope rose in her chest. She traced the indent on her finger where her wedding rings usually were. They would have still been on now, but no jewelry was allowed in the mental health facility.

“Thank you,” she whispered to the nurse. “I’ll be up shortly.”

* * * *

Derek stared at the picture he held in his hand. He caressed Evelyn’s smiling face in the photo with the pad of his thumb. She was wearing lingerie in the photo and her entire being seemed to glow with life, love and a subtle come-hither that called to him. The photo had been a gift, from her to him, years ago when they were still deeply in love. A parting gift to help ease the deployment he’d recently left on. Derek remembered the day he’d received the package in vivid detail; the hoots of the other servicemen as he’d unwittingly let the photo slip from the envelope, the lust that raged through him at the sight of his wife in that scrap of fabric, the deep yearning to be home and in her arms once more.

He blinked, pulling himself out of memory lane and looked up at the doctor who sat across from him. By Derek’s request, the doctor was male. An elderly, gray-haired gentleman who invoked visions of both Freud and of Derek’s own grandfather with his charcoal suit and scruffy mustache.

The gentleman, Dr. Sherman, stared down at a piece of paper on his desk. The piece of paper was supposed to contain two lists, ten items long. The first list was to contain ten things that Derek loved about Evelyn, whether it was physical, mental, a habit of hers, whatever. The second was to contain things about her that either bothered him or he wished he could change. He’d struggled with the first list. Not because he couldn’t find things about his wife that he loved, but because narrowing it down to only ten was hard. The second list had been far harder. In the end, Derek had managed to put only one item.

Evelyn never smiles anymore.

When he really thought about it, he realized that he couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled. He knew she hadn’t the past few months, but he was starting to think about the past few years. Surely she’d smiled when she’d announced their pregnancy. Shame heated his cheeks as he let his gaze drift back down to the picture. He couldn’t recall a single detail of how she’d broke the news to him. He was pretty sure he’d learned the news through an e-mail, while he’d been on one of his many training missions.

“It appears what we have here is a sore lack of communication skills.” Dr. Sherman tapped the sheet before he leaned back in his chair. “I’m seeing many traits you admire about your wife, but I’m noticing most of them are physical or statements of her personality. There are no bubble traits.”

Derek frowned and raised an eyebrow at the odd term. “Bubble traits? Would you please clarify, sir?”

“Don’t ‘sir’ me.” Sherman waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “And don’t ‘doctor’ me either. The nurses do that enough. Just call me Sherman.” He folded his hands across his lap, his brow knitting in a thoughtful expression. “Yes, bubble traits. It’s a term I coined myself. It means I don’t see any references to any kinds of things that belong solely to the two of you as a couple.”

Derek cocked his head as he tried to process what the doctor was saying. He knew whatever Sherman had pointed out was bad, but he wasn’t sure how or why. “I don’t understand,” he finally admitted.

Sherman sat up and pulled a round paperweight to the center of his desk. Inside the globe were two bald eagles, wings spread in flight. He tapped the globe with a finger. “This is the bubble. We can see them in there, but what they are doing together is theirs alone. That flight, that is their special interaction and though we may admire it, we’ll never be able to take part in it with them.”

Derek stared at the globe but inside he flipped through memories like a photo album. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of a single thing that he and Evelyn shared, privately, just the two of them. Even the photo of his wife in lingerie, as intimate as it had been, hadn’t included him. A professional photographer had taken those photos and Evelyn set the shoot up entirely by herself as a surprise for him.

“Do you and your wife have any hobbies together?”

Derek shook his head.

“Do you have a special TV show you watch together?” Sherman leaned back in his chair once more, his tone conversational.

“No.” Derek knew he probably looked like a kid sitting in the principal’s office. His gaze steadfastly searched the floor as he wished for a hole to open up and swallow him from sight.

“Do you go on date nights, visit interesting places, leave each other random love letters, or do anything that involves a special gesture of love between the two of you?”

“Not in a long time,” Derek admitted.

“Well then,” Sherman said, as he clapped his hands together, “at least now we know where to start. Tomorrow, son, we’re going to talk about communicating.”

Chapter Five

Evelyn sat in the cafeteria where she ate her food under the watchful eye of the medical staff. Cereal wasn’t her idea of a stellar breakfast, but it was familiar and therefore soothing. She crunched away on the sugary confection, taking care to leave the marshmallows for last. If she had to live in a psych ward, she planned to make the best of it. Even if it meant catering to her sillier desires.

Maybe later, when the nurses weren’t looking, she’d use her spoon as a catapult.

“You are looking better today.” Sandra, the nurse who sat and talked with Evelyn that first day, smiled down at her.

“I was contemplating the finer points of medieval warfare with modern objects.” Evelyn shoved another spoonful of cereal in her mouth, afraid if she revealed much more they’d take her plastic spoon away and hide it. They’d already taken her shoe laces, wedding rings, and the string from her sweat pants when she’d checked in.

“Just between you and me, don’t touch the cookies.” Sandra glanced around a moment then whispered, “They make fantastic Frisbees though. Completely unbreakable.”

Evelyn smothered a laugh and tried desperately not to shoot milk out her nose. When she managed to swallow her food, she took a sip of her coffee. She liked Sandra. Throughout yesterday afternoon, the nurse had taken the time to show her the ropes and casually converse with her. “I thought you said you were working reception this morning. Did you decide to come make sure I was out of bed?”

“Actually I came to deliver the mail. I’ve handed all the other patients their letters, but you weren’t in your room. Here.” Sandra pulled an envelope out of her pocket.

“I shouldn’t be getting mail. This is only my second or third day here.” Evelyn rubbed her forehead. “Is it sad that I’ve lost track of time.”

“Hey, in some of the wards I’ve worked in the past, the patients didn’t even know what year it was. As far as I’m concerned, you’re A-okay.” Sandra laid the envelope down on the table beside Evelyn’s bowl. “It’s already been opened. Standard procedure to make sure the content isn’t a threat to your state of health. Once you’ve been here awhile, and you move up in levels, it gets less restricting.”

Evelyn nodded but her gaze was locked on the envelope. There was no return address, or even an address for her; just her name written in a script she recognized immediately.

“I’ve got to head back downstairs. Remember, group therapy starts in fifteen minutes down the hall. You get extra points if you show up to them throughout the day that help you level faster. See you this afternoon.”

“Thanks. Have a good day.” She listened to the sound of Sandra’s retreating footsteps as she continued to stare at the letter. Her stomached twisted into knots of turmoil as she debated opening it. Part of her, the hopeful part, wanted to grab the letter and hold it to her heart. Another part, the scared and angry part, was terrified of what more damage could be done.