Married Or Not?
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“What are her injuries?”
Dr. Davis shook his head. “You’ll need to speak to the surgeon about that.”
“Where can I find him when he gets out of surgery?”
“You can wait for him upstairs, in Intensive Care. He’ll look for family members when he finishes.”
Greg swallowed. “I want to see her as soon as possible.”
“The surgeon will discuss that with you.”
Greg nodded, turned on his heel and headed toward the bank of elevators.
“Good luck,” Dr. Davis said behind him.
Greg rode the elevator to the next floor where the ICU was located. It was quiet on the ICU floor, which was a relief from the pandemonium downstairs. He pushed through double swinging doors and found the nurses’ station.
“Sir,” one of the nurses said, “you can’t come in here.”
“I’m waiting for Sherri Masterson Hogan to come out of surgery.”
She looked down at the desk and riffled through some files. She read some of the files before saying, “We have a Sherri Masterson who has been recently admitted.”
So she’d taken back her maiden name. Why wasn’t he surprised?
“Are you family?”
He’d already lied once. “Her husband.”
She nodded. “Good. We need to get more information on her.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay.”
She went down a list, asking questions. He knew her age, birthdate, even her blood type, but he had no idea where she lived these days, so he rattled off his own address.
After answering the rest of the questions, Greg wandered down the hallway to the ICU waiting room with the nurse’s promise that the doctor would be out to speak with him as soon as he was out of surgery.
Greg hated sitting around, but he had no intention of leaving the hospital until he knew more about Sherri’s injuries.
He wondered why he cared. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her in almost two years. Eighteen months, six days, to be precise.
She’d asked him not to contact her once everything had ended, and he’d determinedly followed her instructions. He’d almost convinced himself she was part of his past. He was so over her. Then what was he doing here? Why had he panicked at the thought that she could die?
For one thing, she was much too young, six years younger than his thirty-two years.
Just because she wanted no part of me didn’t mean she deserved to die.
The last six months they were together had been filled with so much tension that it had become a third party in their marriage. She’d withdrawn into herself. When he asked what was wrong, she told him that he was too secretive about his past and his background. She said she didn’t really know him at all.
Okay, so he wasn’t the most talkative person in the world…especially about his feelings. He’d never been good about opening himself up and sharing his innermost thoughts and emotions with anyone.
When they’d first married, she had asked him all kinds of questions…about his childhood, his family, why he’d chosen to be a cop. He never liked talking about his childhood or his family and admittedly he was less than forthcoming. As far as he was concerned, all of that was in the past and had no bearing on who he was today. He’d just had trouble explaining that to Sherri’s satisfaction. He’d finally stopped trying.
He shouldn’t have been all that surprised the day he got home to find every last trace of her presence in his apartment gone. She’d left the key to his place on the counter with a note telling him that she was getting a divorce and to contact her attorney—she also left the attorney’s business card—if he had any questions.
Hell yes, he’d had questions! How could she just move out like that? She’d kept asking him to talk to her about stupid things, but that was no reason just to walk out on him. He’d loved her and she’d thrown his love back in his face. Why else would she have hired an attorney before she’d even bothered to tell him she wanted a divorce?
He’d been furious with her. He’d waited three days to calm down enough to call her attorney, who had told him that since they’d acquired no property of significance during the three years of their marriage, Sherri wanted to keep what was hers and let him keep what was his.
He hadn’t argued because he knew there would be no point. She’d obviously made up her mind and his opinion didn’t matter.
He’d tried to be what she’d wanted in a husband, but he hadn’t really known what she expected a husband to be. He’d been alone for most of his twenty-seven years before they’d met. Of course there had been adjustments to sharing a place with her. However, he’d loved her and showed his love in every way he knew how, but his love hadn’t been enough. He knew, was absolutely convinced, that she’d loved him in the beginning. There was no way she could have faked her response to him. His off-duty hours had been spent in bed with her, making love to her, holding her, listening to her while she talked about her childhood and her family.
She’d had it tough and he’d told her that he would always be there for her, that he would never abandon her, or leave her to deal with life on her own.
And yet…
After a while she’d stopped talking to him as much and he figured that was because she’d told him everything about her past. She would ask him about his work, but once he was home he didn’t want to talk about his job. He just wanted to be with her.
He’d always worked long hours during an investigation, but she’d known that. He might have rushed her into marriage a little fast, but he had been afraid he would lose her if he settled for a long engagement. He’d lost her anyway.
Well, he’d come to terms with the divorce. There wasn’t much else he could do. He’d tried to console himself that cops had a higher rate of failed relationships than almost any other profession. Somehow, that hadn’t helped him get over the pain of losing her.
And now she was seriously injured. Regardless of the circumstances, he could not leave the hospital without knowing how she was.
Greg waited three more hours before a weary doctor wearing scrubs appeared in the doorway. “Mr. Masterson?”
“Um, no. Greg Hogan. Sherri uses her maiden name.” He had trouble talking around the knot in his throat. He finally managed to ask, “How is she?”
The doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “There was some internal bleeding and we had to remove her spleen. She’s in stable condition. I think she’s going to get through this with no problem. The airbag saved her life but there was some bruising. Her right arm is broken as well as her right leg, so she’ll be slowed down for a while, but otherwise, I think she’s in good shape, considering what she went through.”
Greg’s relief at the news caused him to choke up. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying to gain control over his emotions.
“May I see her?” he finally managed to ask.
“She’s in recovery at the moment. Once they move her to ICU one of the nurses will come get you.”
“Thank you.” Greg held out his hand and the surgeon shook it before leaving the room.
Broken bones. Those would heal. The trauma caused by the surgery would also need time to heal. She was going to be okay. He fought the constriction in his throat. He was tired, that’s all.
He glanced at his watch. It was after six and he still hadn’t followed up on the investigation he was conducting. The team needed answers quickly. Law-enforcement personnel knew that the first forty-eight hours after a crime was committed were the most critical for gathering evidence. He needed to get back on this one before any more time was lost.
He approached the nurse who had taken down the information on Sherri. “May I help you?” she asked.
“Do you have any idea when Sherri Masterson will be out of recovery?”
“Not really.” She shook her head. “They’ll keep her in recovery until her vitals stabilize.”
When would that be? Soon, he hoped. He really needed to see her.
“I have to get back to work right now, but I’ll definitely be back later tonight.”
The nurse nodded and Greg headed for the elevators. He’d started to shake once the doctor had left. Reaction and relief that her injuries were no longer life-threatening and that she’d made it through surgery all right had gotten to him.
There was nothing he could do for her at this point, a feeling he’d often had when they were together. That didn’t mean that he could just walk away from her now.
Three
Greg returned to the hospital a little after midnight. Another shift was at the nurses’ station.
He’d managed to get some work done on his latest investigation before he’d gone to find Sherri’s car. What he’d seen had sickened him and caused him to wonder how she had survived.
“I’m Sherri Masterson’s husband, Greg Hogan,” he said quietly. “I haven’t been able to see her since her surgery. Would it be possible to see her now?”
An older nurse came around the counter. “Follow me. Please don’t stay long.”
“Has she been awake at all since coming to the ICU?”
“For a few minutes when they brought her to her room. She’s being given something for pain and is pretty groggy.”
Greg hadn’t known what to expect when he walked into her room. He hadn’t seen her in almost two years, but nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing her lying there so still.
He wouldn’t have recognized her. Her face was swollen, with cuts and bruises that no doubt occurred when her airbag inflated.
The hospital staff had her hooked up to machines and a bag of liquid. One machine monitored her heart, another kept track of her blood pressure and pulse and he knew the drip contained saline solution to keep her hydrated.
She was so pale that if it hadn’t been for the steady beat of the machine, he would have thought she was dead.
He’d forgotten how small she was because she had loomed so large in his memory.
Her thick lashes lay on her cheeks hiding her amazingly green eyes. She looked peaceful lying with her arms beside her. Her dark hair framed her face and he realized she’d cut it. Now it feathered around her head. Her poor face was battered and she had a black eye but all of that would go away with time and rest.
He stepped closer to the bed and placed her limp hand in his.
“What have you done to yourself, Sherri?” he whispered.
“What were you doing out on the highway in the middle of the day? Had you gotten sick at work and gone home early?”
She stirred and her lashes fluttered, but her eyes stayed closed.
The nurse returned to the room. “You’ll need to leave now. I’m sure she’ll be more awake in the morning.”
The next morning Greg was at the hospital by seven o’clock. He found Sherri sleeping. One of the nurses came in.
“How’s she doing?” he asked, his voice low.
“Remarkably well, considering. She roused a few times in the night while we were checking on her but went back to sleep. Rest is the best thing for her. “
Sherri heard people talking nearby. She wished they would go away and let her sleep. The alarm hadn’t gone off yet to remind her to get up. They continued to talk and Sherri could have sworn she recognized one of the voices: a deep voice that had always made her heart race.
“Greg?” she whispered. Surely not. Why would he—
“I’m right here, Sherri,” he replied, picking up her hand and bringing it to his lips.
She was probably dreaming, but why would she dream of him?
Finally, she opened her eyes and stared at him. “Greg?” she whispered in wonder. “Is it you?” She remembered now that she was in the hospital. What was he doing there?
He nodded and flashed a brief smile at her. “How are you feeling?” He sat in the chair next to her bed.
She looked at her hand still nestled in his. “Very strange. I think I’m actually dreaming this conversation.”
“No, I’m really here. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I must be in worse shape than I thought if you’re here,” she said roughly, her mouth dry.
Without hesitation he reached over and handed her a bottle of water with a plastic straw in it.
She sipped on the water, trying to bring her brain into some kind of focus.
He brushed her hair off her forehead. “You cut your hair.”
“Yes. It’s easier to keep this way.”
Neither one of them spoke after that. Sherri couldn’t come up with a coherent thought or question.
“Do you remember the accident?” he finally asked.
“No. I guess I got a little banged up.”
“Some internal injuries and a broken arm and leg would bear that out.”
“The doctor said he had to remove my spleen and sew up some tears inside.” She paused before saying, “No more gymnastics for me, I guess.” He didn’t smile, which didn’t surprise her. It was a lame joke.
“My guess is that the seat belt did its job and saved your life but caused damage of its own.”
She had trouble keeping her eyes off him. Greg Hogan was there in the hospital to see her. They’d had no contact in years and yet, now he was here.
“This is too weird. Why are you here?”
“I told you.”
“How did you hear about the accident?”
“At the station. That was one heck of a pile-up and several units were out there. Someone radioed in that your car had been sandwiched between an eighteen-wheeler and an SUV.” He nodded toward the nearby table. “They brought your purse back to the station when they recognized you and gave it to me. I left it here when I checked on you last night.”
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m having trouble concentrating on anything. I feel like I’m floating.”
“It’s the meds they’re giving you. You’re going to be fine, you know.”
“That’s good,” she murmured.
Greg watched her go back to sleep and smiled. He’d turned over his cases to some of the other detectives and asked for time off. He wanted to be here in case she needed him. She had no family since her aunt had died and he didn’t want her to be alone.
Of course he knew he had no business being there. She’d made it more than clear when she left him that she no longer wanted him around her. He picked up on the fact that she was less than thrilled to see him there, honestly puzzled, and he couldn’t explain to her what he couldn’t explain to himself.
He just knew that he had to be there. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Now he waited until she woke up again.
The next time Sherri opened her eyes and saw him, she frowned. “You’re still here.”
He nodded.
“I don’t understand. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”
“I took some time off.”
“You said you talked to some of the men who were at the scene of the accident. Did they say how badly my car was damaged?”
“There’s not much left of it, I’m afraid. It’s a miracle you survived. When I saw it, I didn’t know how you could have come out of it alive.”
“It can’t be repaired?” she asked wistfully.
“’Fraid not.” He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that little car.”
Tears welled into her eyes. “I’m being silly to cry over a stupid car. It’s just that it was my very first car and I bought it brand-new.”
“I spoke to your roommate a little while ago while you were asleep. She didn’t know you’d been in an accident until late last night. When she called the hospital this morning to find out how you were, the nurse forwarded the call to your room. I guess the hospital will only give out information to family members.”
“You’re not family.” Tears continued to slide down her cheeks.
“But the hospital doesn’t know that. I told them I was your husband.”
She started to sit up and then grabbed her tummy and winced.
“Easy. You’ve just had major surgery.”
“Why would you lie like that?”
“Like I said,” he began patiently. “The hospital won’t give out information on a patient except to family members. I needed to know how you were doing so I told them we were married. I had this same conversation with Joan. She’d never heard of me.” He cocked his head and looked at her, his brows raised.
“I never told her your name. All she knows is that I’m divorced.”
“I think she was surprised to find me here.”
Sherri almost smiled. “I’m sure she was.” More tears flowed. “I didn’t get a chance to tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
“About what happened. I lost my job yesterday.”
“So that’s why you were on the highway at that time of day.”
She sighed. “It was definitely a Black Friday for me.”
She kept wiping away her tears. He took a tissue and wiped her cheeks.
“The important thing is that you’re alive. You can always get another car and another job.”
She glanced down at her body. “Right. With my arm and leg in casts, I have a hunch a prospective employer would not be impressed.”
“You don’t need to find a job next week, you know. You’re going to need time to rest and recuperate.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m obligated to pay half the bills for our apartment. Joan depends on me just as I depend on her.”
“Joan wondered how you’d be able to climb the stairs to your apartment, which I think is a fair question. You can’t handle crutches until your arm heals and that would be at least six weeks.”
“Oh, no! I hadn’t gotten around to thinking about that.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe all of this happened in one day.”
“Did you get a severance check?”
She nodded toward her purse. “I hope it’s still in there.”
“May I look?” he asked, reaching for it.
She closed her eyes. “I suppose. I don’t seem to have any secrets from you.”
He saw the crumpled envelope just inside the purse. He handed it to her. “Is this it?”
She opened her eyes and looked first at the envelope and then at him. “With one arm in a sling and the other hooked up to a drip, I can’t even take it.”
“I’ll put it in the bank for you if you like. I’ll need a deposit slip.”
“Also in my purse.”
He found her checkbook and without looking at the balance, tore off a deposit slip and put it back in her purse.
When he looked back at her she was staring at him. She didn’t say anything, just looked at him. After a lengthy silence, he finally asked, “What?”
“I still don’t understand why you’re here.”
“I care about you.”
She sounded frustrated when she replied, “I don’t understand why.”
He smiled. “I’ve gotta admit, it surprised me, too.”
Her eyes drooped.
“Get some sleep. I’ll come back later.”
“You don’t have to. I’m okay.”
“Yes, I know. Just humor me, okay?”
Her eyes closed and he waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. She’d fallen asleep.
He stroked her hand as he studied her. He was glad to see she had a little more color in her face.
Greg stroked her cheek and whispered, “Take care of yourself, little one,” and walked out of the room.
Four
Two days later Sherri woke up in a panic. She’d been having a nightmare, or perhaps her subconscious had chosen to relive some of her worst moments. She looked around her room and saw that she was alone.
She realized she was holding her breath and let it out with a whoosh, her relief overwhelming. The nightmare had probably been the result of knowing that she was being released from the hospital today. Somehow she would have to navigate the stairs to her second-story apartment. Once there, she would be something of a captive until her leg cast came off.
At the moment, getting to her apartment wasn’t her worst problem. How could she look for work like this? No one in his or her right mind would hire her. She wasn’t even sure she could work full-time right away. She’d been in good shape, relatively speaking, but she was a long way from getting over the wreck. Her little car was gone. Her insurance would only pay a percentage of her hospital bills, which were going to be astronomical. For that matter, she might not have any insurance. Had it been canceled the day she was laid off? She hoped it had been in effect until midnight of that day. She’d paid her part of the insurance premiums for the entire month and, as if all of that wasn’t enough to deal with, she also had Greg to contend with.
He’d come by to see her for both of the past two days. She didn’t want him here. She’d hoped never to see him again. Why? Because she still turned to mush whenever she was around him. That was the reason she had asked him to leave her alone after the divorce. She could deal with the hurt and the pain of the divorce as long as it was a distant memory. As soon as she saw him she was instantly reminded of how much in love she’d been with him, and how much he’d hurt her.
One of the things she found attractive about him when they’d first met was that he was a man of action and didn’t talk much. Clams were chattier, she was sure. She hadn’t understood then that without open communication between them, their marriage could not succeed.
Granted, she didn’t expect him to talk about his work. She understood that. Eventually, they didn’t talk at all. She couldn’t live that way. He knew her entire life history. She knew little about his background or past. She understood that there were people who hated to talk about themselves, but Greg had carried his reticence to an extreme.
What had ended the marriage as far as she was concerned was that she’d discovered he’d lied to her. Flat-out lied. The other things had been tough enough to deal with, but when she’d found out the truth about him and that he had hidden it from her for their entire marriage, she knew she could no longer live with him.
And yet… He’d heard about her accident and had come to see her. Okay. She could understand that a little. I mean, they had known each other intimately at one time. She supposed he could have been concerned about her.
However, she was at a loss to figure out why he came each day to see her. It was ridiculous. They had little to talk about. She certainly had no intention of getting involved in his life again.
Each time he’d left she’d politely told him not to come back. He came anyway.
Well, if he showed up today she’d give up the polite part and tell him to leave her alone. If he didn’t show up, she’d be gone. As far as she knew, he didn’t know where she lived—No. Wait. He’d said something about her living on the second floor. He couldn’t know that if he hadn’t been by there.
Well, when she saw him, she intended to set him straight. She did not want him in her life in any way. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. She hoped that the meeting would happen later rather than sooner. She needed to get her strength back before facing him. Otherwise, she might end up throwing herself into his arms crying, “Save me! Save me!”
Not her style at all, but then whenever she was around Greg, she had trouble thinking coherently.
The aide came in with her breakfast. “The doctor wants to check to see how you are this morning. He’s making rounds now, so it shouldn’t be too long.” She set the tray on the rolling table. “Enjoy.”
Sherri looked at the tray. Enjoy. Right. Clear liquids. No coffee. She had to be on a special diet until everything damaged inside her healed. She’d have to give Joan a list of the things she could eat and have her bring them home. It would be good to get home and let Lucifer, her cat, love her. Or rather push his head into her hand to love him. He was company, all the company she needed.
She began to eat, resigned to the diet for now.
Greg pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Sherri was being dismissed today and he already knew she wasn’t going to like what he’d done.
Too bad. Like it or not, she would have to accept that this was the way things would be for the foreseeable future.