Medical Romance November 2016 Books 1-6

Oh, yes. Much harder.

‘By coincidence, he’s come to work at the same hospital as I am, here in Cheltenham.’ Before her mother could jump to conclusions, she hurried to finish. ‘He wound up here quite by accident. He’s taking another surgeon’s place while she goes on maternity leave.’

‘You’re positive he didn’t know you were there?’

And there was that note of hopefulness she’d been hoping to avoid.

‘Yes, I’m absolutely positive.’

‘I wonder...’ Her mother let whatever she was going to say trail off into nothing. Then she came back. ‘Why don’t you and Max come to London a little earlier? We’re just getting ready to put up the tree and decorate it. You didn’t help us put on the ornaments last year, and you know everyone would love to have you there. And Max, of course. Nate... Well, he would love it.’

Oh, Lord, how was she going to get out of this? She’d had no idea her mother would suggest she come over and help decorate the tree. Especially not with her ex in tow.

‘I’m not sure Max will want to—’

‘It certainly can’t hurt to ask. And if he doesn’t want to join us, he can just pick you up at the house later and off you’ll go to the party.’ Another pause, quicker this time. ‘What kind of party did you say it was?’

‘A Doctors Without Borders fundraiser.’

‘Isn’t that who Max left—I mean worked with?’

Her mum was right. Annabelle might have been the one to ask him to leave, but Doctors Without Borders had been Max’s escape route. They had used to talk about going and working together. But in the end, Max had gone alone.

‘Yes.’

‘Is he going back with them once he’s finished his contract at the hospital?’

Something in Annabelle’s stomach twisted until it hurt. No, that had been her, clenching her abs until they shook. She’d asked him that same question at the pub. ‘I don’t know what his plans are after that, Mum.’

‘So this might be our last chance to see him for a while?’ Her mum called something to her father, but she couldn’t hear what it was. Great. She could only hope that she wasn’t telling him that Max was back and that it would be good to have the family together again.

Her mum knew that Max had left, but she’d never told her that she’d served him with divorce papers soon afterwards. It had been a painful time in her life and she’d kept most of it to herself. And then as time had gone on and Max hadn’t sent his portion of the paperwork back, it was as if Annabelle had put it to the back of her mind like a bad dream that had happened once and was then forgotten.

This probably wasn’t a good time to bring up the fact that a reconciliation was highly unlikely. Max had given no indication that he wanted to get back together with her. In fact, even when he’d towed her from the restaurant and kissed her in the park, he’d referred to what was going on between them as ‘the spark’. Physical attraction. People could be attracted to each other without it going any deeper than that.

‘I’ll ask him. But don’t be disappointed if he’d rather not come, Mum.’

‘I won’t. But you’ll come, even if he chooses not to, won’t you?’

There was no way she was going to be able to get out of it. And actually she didn’t want to. This was a family tradition that she’d participated in every year except for the last one, when she’d just been getting situated at Teddy’s and had been too busy with all the changes to be able to take a train home to London. With Nate’s diagnosis, though, she had to go. ‘I’ll be there, Mum, but I probably won’t be able to stay for dinner.’

‘Of course not. Tell Max I’m looking forward to seeing him.’

Okay. Hadn’t she just explained that he might not want to come?

She would invite him. And then let him decide what he wanted to do. And if he agreed to go? Well, she’d have to decide how to tell him that her family wasn’t privy to one small detail of their relationship: that not only had she asked him to leave, but she’d also asked him for a divorce. And the only thing lacking to make that happen...was Max’s signature on a piece of paper.

* * *

‘You what?’

Sitting in front of Annabelle’s mum and dad’s house, Max wasn’t sure what on earth had possessed him to say yes to this crazy side trip. Because he was suddenly having second thoughts.

Especially now.

‘You didn’t tell them we’re divorcing?’ The words tasted bitter as he said them, but how could she have neglected to tell her parents that their marriage was over, and that it had been her choice?

Surely they’d realised, when he’d never come home...

‘There just never seemed to be a good time to mention it. Someone was always being born. And then my aunt Meredith passed away a year and a half ago. My dad retired six months after that. It’s just been—’

‘Life as usual in the Brookes’ household.’ He remembered well how frenetic and chaotic things got, with lots of laughter and some tears. It had taken him a while to get used to the noise—and there was a lot of it—but the love they had for each other had won him over. Especially when they had drawn him into the fold as if he’d always been a part of their close-knit group. It was what he’d always wanted, but never had. He’d been in heaven. While it lasted.

‘Please don’t be angry. I’ll tell them eventually. Probably not tonight, since it’s Christmas time, and with Nate’s illness...’

‘It’s okay. Maybe it’s easier this way. They did know we weren’t living together any more.’

‘They knew we’d separated, yes, of course. I left our flat and came home before moving to the Cotswolds.’

‘Yes, the flat...’ He almost laughed. Well, he guessed they were even, then, because there was something he hadn’t told her either. That he hadn’t sold the flat once she’d moved out of it, even though his monthly cleaning lady had called him to let him know Annabelle was moving home and that she’d said he could do what he wished to with the flat. Those words had hit him right in the gut. Somehow he’d never been able to picture her moving out of the place they’d turned into a home. He’d assumed he would sign the place over to her once the paperwork was finalised. But then she’d moved out. And the paperwork had never been signed.

Why was that?

‘What about it?’ Annabelle turned to him, her discomfiture turning to curiosity.

‘We still have it, actually.’

Her head cocked. ‘Still have it?’

‘I never got around to selling it.’

Her indrawn breath was sharp inside the space of his small sports car. ‘But why?’

That was a question he wasn’t going to examine too closely right now. ‘I was overseas on and off and it got pushed to a back burner. As time went on, well, it just never happened.’

‘Who’s living there?’

‘No one. I never sublet it. Suzanne cleans it once a month, just like always. When repairs are needed, her husband comes over and does them.’ He shrugged. ‘I halfway thought maybe I’d return to London at some point.’

Except every time he’d got close to thinking about his home city, he somehow hadn’t been able to bring himself to come back and visit. Instead, he’d landed in several different cities in between his stints with Doctors Without Borders.

Annabelle smiled and it lit up the inside of the car. ‘I’m glad. I loved that place.’

‘So did I.’ Well, they were going to look awfully out of place at a tree-decorating party with their fancy clothes on. But she’d seemed so uncomfortable when she’d relayed her mother’s request that he hadn’t wanted to make her feel even worse—or have to go back to her mum and tell her that he’d refused to take part. That would have been churlish of him. At least now he knew why the invitation had been extended. If they’d been divorced, Max was pretty sure he’d have been persona non grata in this particular family, even if he hadn’t been the one to initiate it.

Climbing out of the car, he went around to Annabelle’s side and opened it for her. Out she stepped, a vision in red. Until she tried to move to the side so he could close the door and tripped over the hem of her gown, careening sideways. He grabbed her around the waist, his fingers sliding across the bare skin of her back as he did so.

Her momentum kept her moving and her arms went around his neck in an effort to regain her footing. ‘Oh! Max, I’m so sorry...’

Just then the front door to the house opened, and people poured out of the opening, catching them tangled together.

Not good.

Because it didn’t look as if he’d just been saving her from a fall. It looked as if they were having a private moment.

Not hardly.

Annabelle saw them at the same time as he did and quickly pulled back. So fast that she almost flung herself off balance all over again. He kept hold of her for a second or two longer to make sure she had her footing. Then they were surrounded by her family, and Annabelle was hugging various adults and squatting down to squeeze little ones of all sizes. He couldn’t prevent a smile. This was the Annabelle he remembered, uncaring of whether or not her dress got dusty. The people she loved always came first.

Just as he once had.

He’d forgotten that in all of the unhappy moments that had passed between them. These had been good times. Happy times. And...he missed them.

George Brookes came around and extended his hand. ‘Good to see you, Maxwell.’ His booming voice and formal use of his name was just like old times as well. There wasn’t a hint of recrimination on the man’s face. Or in his attitude. Just a father welcoming his son-in-law for a typical visit.

Max squeezed his hand, reaching over to give him a man’s quick embrace, then gave himself over to greeting the family he’d once been a part of.

Bittersweet. He shouldn’t have come. And yet he was very glad he had.

Jessica came up to hug him. He held her shoulders and looked into her face. ‘How are you and Walter holding up?’

Her chin wobbled precariously, but she didn’t start crying. ‘We’re doing better now that you and Annie are home.’

Home.

Yes, he’d once considered this the home his childhood abode never was. And the Brookeses had been the family he no longer had. Despite his own parents’ faults, he suddenly missed them. Regretted never once visiting their graves.

Once he’d lost the right to be a part of Annabelle’s family, the children of Africa had become his family. And they had loved more freely and with more joy than anything he’d ever seen. They’d taught him a lot about unconditional love.

Something he’d never really given to anyone. Even Anna. He’d always held something back, afraid of being hurt. And in the end, he’d demanded she give up something she dearly wanted.

He’d been wrong in that. Even though he’d told himself time and time again that it had been to save Annabelle the pain of future miscarriages, maybe he’d been more interested in saving himself.

He didn’t have time to think about it for long, though, because he was soon whisked back into the bosom of a family he’d dearly missed, sitting on the arm of the sofa while Annabelle and her sisters held up ornament after ornament, reminiscing about where each had come from. Some were home-made. Some were fancy and expensive. But each held some kind of special meaning to this family.

Anna was gorgeous in her flowing red gown. Off the shoulder, but with some loose straps that draped over her upper arms, it fitted her perfectly, the snug top giving way to a full loose skirt that swished with every twitch of her hips. And they twitched a lot. Every once in a while she threw him a smile that was more carefree than any he’d seen from her in a long, long time. He knew that smile. She’d once worn it almost constantly. When he’d come home from work. When they’d gazed at each other across the dinner table. When they’d made love deep into the night...

His throat tightened, and he dipped a finger beneath his bow tie in an effort to give himself a little more room to breathe, even though he knew that wasn’t the problem. In his hands, Max held the long white gloves Anna planned on wearing to the party, but had taken off so she wouldn’t drop and break any ornaments. In the back of all their minds was Nate and his diagnosis, but when Max looked at the little blond boy, he was smiling and laughing on the floor as he played with his siblings and cousins. Suddenly Max wished he could commit this scene to memory so that he would never forget this moment.

When Nate got up from his place on the floor and came to stand in front of him, looking at him with curious eyes, the tightness in his throat increased.

‘Where’s my ball?’

He blinked. Max wasn’t sure why the boy was asking him, but he was not about to refuse him. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You help find?’

‘Sure.’ Getting to his feet, he tucked Anna’s gloves into his pocket and held out a hand to the little boy. As he did, his doctor’s mind took in the subtle signs of illness. Nate’s small stature, the frailness of his fingers beneath Max’s. Jessica sent him a look with raised brows.

‘He’s looking for his ball?’ Max had to raise his voice to be heard.

‘It’s in the basket by the far wall in the dining room.’ Jessica glanced at her son, the raw emotion in her eyes unmistakable. ‘Thanks, Max.’

‘Not a problem.’

Together he and the boy made their way into the dining room. It looked the same as it always had, polished cherry table laid with glistening china and silver for the meal they would be having later. Gloria had never been worried about breakage, even with such a large and active family. His own mum had rarely set out the good china.

‘There’s the basket, Nate. Let’s see if Mum was right.’

A white wicker chest was pushed against a wall, a large contingent of photographs flowing up and around it until they filled the space with black and white images.

Above the pictures ornate black letters gave a message to all who dined there.

In Stormy Seas,

Family Is A Sheltered Cove.

And it was. This family represented safety. Too many faces to count, but there must have been thirty frames, each telling a story. The birth of a child. The winning of trophies. The weddings of each of the girls. Jessica and Walter, Paula and Mark, Mallory and Stewart...

No. His heart caught on a stuttered beat, and he couldn’t stop himself from moving closer. Annabelle and Max.

That day was pinned in his memory, superseding even his most recent ones. Anna, fresh from his kiss, was staring up at him with eyes filled with love. And he was... He had his arm wrapped around her waist as if he was afraid she might wander away from him if he didn’t keep her close.

And she had. They’d both wandered.

Annabelle said she hadn’t told her parents about the divorce. He wasn’t sure if Gloria just hadn’t had a picture to replace this one with, or if she’d left it up in hopes that one day he and her daughter might mend their fences and get back together.

Little did she know that those fences had been irrevocably broken. His gaze moved over the rest of the pictures. There were no others of them. Maybe because they hadn’t had all that much to celebrate during their marriage.

Part of that was his fault. They’d been fixated on having a baby for so long, they’d never made time to look at the other things they’d shared.

A small hand tugged on his. ‘My ball? In basket.’

That was right. He’d forgotten about Nate and his ball. Forcing the lump in his throat to shift to the side, he gave the child a smile. ‘Let’s see if it’s where Mum said it was.’

He opened the basket to find children’s toys of every shape and size. Gloria must keep them for all of the grandkids to play with while they visited. And all of Annabelle’s sisters now had children. Except for her.

He glanced through the doorway to see her still helping to decorate the tree, laughing at something someone had said. She was truly beautiful. Inside and out.

She seemed to have made her peace with not having kids. At least from what he could tell. So maybe it was time for him to accept that as well and start finding the joy in life. Turning back to his task, he found Nate trying to lean over the basket to get a green spongy ball the size of a football. ‘Is that it, buddy?’

Grabbing the object from the chest, he handed it to Nate, who let go of his hand and gripped the item to his chest. ‘Ball!’

‘I guess we got the right one. Watch your fingers.’ He carefully lowered the lid and latched it to keep small hands from getting pinched. They made their way back to the room and Nate went straight to Jessica, showing her his prize.

‘Wonderful. You’ve found it!’ She glanced up at Max with a mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

He gave her a nod in return. Annabelle handed an ornament to her dad, who still stood ramrod straight and tall, probably from his days in the military. He gave her a quick hug and took the item, stretching up to put it on the very top of the tree. The man then turned towards the rest of the people assembled. ‘Shall we light it before Annie and Max have to leave?’

A roared ‘Yes!’ went up from all the kids, making the adults smile. He glanced at his watch. Seven-thirty. The gala started in half an hour, so they did need to leave soon, since the party was on the other side of the city.

Annabelle came over to stand beside him.

With the flick of a switch all the lights in the living room went off, leaving them in darkness. An affected ‘oooooh’ went up from the people gathered there.

Max stood there, the urge to put his arm around Anna’s waist almost irresistible. The way he’d done in years past. He fought it for a moment or two, then gave up. His contract wasn’t for ever. Once Sienna came back from maternity leave, he would be on his way again. So why not do this while he still could?

He slid his hand across the small of her back, the warm bare skin just above the edge of the fabric brushing against his thumb. Curving his fingers around the side of her waist, he was surprised when she reciprocated, her arm gliding around his back, leaning into him slightly as she smiled at something else her father was saying.

Then, just as suddenly as the overhead lights had been turned off, another set of lights flicked on. Swathed in layers of tiny glowing bulbs, the Christmas tree lit up the whole room like magic.

Not ‘like’ magic. It was magic. The tree. The night. The family. It was as if he’d never left three years ago. He didn’t know whether to be glad or horrified. Had he not moved forward even a little?

No, he’d done nothing to forge a life without Anna. But he needed to either do just that, or...

Or try to do something to make things right between them.

Only, Max wasn’t sure that was a good idea. They’d wounded each other without even trying. Wouldn’t they just take up where they’d left off and do it all over again, if given half a chance? Wouldn’t she ask him to leave once again?

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted to live here in this moment. Surrounded by Annabelle’s family and the life and love they shared between them.

Except they needed to leave, if they were going to make it to the gala in time.

As if reading his thoughts, Annabelle looked up at him, her eyes shining with a strange glow that was probably due to the lights on the tree. ‘We should go.’

‘Are you sure you don’t want to stay here and eat with your family?’

She lifted a handful of the fabric of her dress. ‘We got all dressed up, so let’s just enjoy the night. Okay? No expectations. No preconceived ideas.’

That shocked him. Annabelle was by nature a rigid planner. The attempts to get pregnant had been accomplished with clinical precision—the spontaneity wiped out more and more with each new wave of treatment.

If she hadn’t just said those last words, he would have assumed she was following through with what they’d planned to do. But something about the way she said it...

Well, if that was what she wanted, who was Max to disagree? And maybe it was the twinkle lights messing with some rational part of his brain, or the fact that her dress clung in all the right places, but he suddenly wanted to have Annabelle all to himself.