Back in Her Husband's Arms

CHAPTER TWO

‘SLOW DOWN...AND tell me how exactly you came to misplace a patient?’

‘I’m not sure, Dr Fielding. His name was...oh, what was his name again? That’s right...Kowalski...Joseph Kowalski. I can’t believe he’s gone. I messed up big time. I’m so sorry, Dr Fielding. I’m really sorry. I’m such an idiot.’

‘Johnson, take a breath. I examined Mr Kowalski in my ward a little over an hour ago. He had multiple mandibular fractures and if I’m not mistaken a blood alcohol close to point two. He was in a hospital gown and hooked up to an IV. I can’t see him travelling very far without being noticed.’

Sara Fielding stepped back from the open doorway to where she couldn’t be seen. Dr Fielding? What was he doing here? He didn’t consult at this hospital. He was the oral and maxillofacial consultant at Lower North Eastern on the other side of the city. It was where she had done her training. It was where they met. Why was he here? He must be visiting Stu to say goodbye, as they were friends. They had all been friends once, she reminded herself.

‘I know, right, how far could he get?’ the young voice returned in varying pitch, trying to convince himself of a good outcome. But his struggle showed when his voice gave in to a nervous stutter. ‘I—I spoke with Security at the b-back and front gates and he hasn’t left the grounds.’

‘Well, that’s comforting, I’d hate to see footage of our escapee on television tonight. We don’t want to see our director’s face on the six p.m. news if they splash shots of the bare backside of an inebriated elderly man, still attached to an IV stand, walking down Swan Street. I can only imagine the paperwork involved with that Ministerial inquiry.’

Stunned, Sara collapsed back against the wall out of the view of Tom and the young man she assumed was either a final year undergraduate or an intern. Our director? Her heart was racing and her stomach had tied itself in a knot. She didn’t hear any of what he was telling the young man after those two words, she just heard the thumping of the blood in her temples. Tom Fielding must now be consulting at this hospital. Her hospital.

‘Security, please.’ Tom spoke into the phone then, while waiting for the connection, he began skimming through the unread emails on his computer screen. After a moment, he continued. ‘It’s Tom Fielding, I’m just checking on the status of a missing patient. Joseph Kowalski. Admitted to the oral surgery ward about two hours ago, apparently did a runner out of the ward... Oh, okay. The cafeteria—poor man’s probably hungry. So where is he now? Right, that’s unfortunate. I’ll send the intern to collect him promptly. Thanks.’ With that he hung up the phone.

‘Well, Johnson, I suggest you head to the florist on the ground floor. Kowalski’s in there, trying to purchase a bouquet, and apparently while searching for his imaginary wallet underneath his hospital gown he has managed to show the family jewels to the volunteers. They’re a little disturbed, so you need to calmly head down and collect him. But remember, you’re no good to anyone, and particularly not Mr Kowalski, if you beat yourself up about it. You followed hospital procedure. You notified Security, and me, and they have him. Good outcome, so just head off and take him back to the ward pronto.’

Sara clenched her eyes closed. Her mind was struggling to process what was happening. It made no sense to her. Stu had set up the appointment at the hospital to discuss his caseload and show her around the operating theatres. Then he was going to take her to his practice, which was apparently only a few blocks away. There had definitely been no mention of Tom in the conversation. If there had been she wouldn’t have agreed to come. Nervously, she smoothed her skirt and tugged her jacket back into position.

More than anything, she wanted to run. To disappear and not face Tom again. But she couldn’t. She had made a promise to Stu to locum for him for the month. A promise she couldn’t break.

The heat began rising in her cheeks. Her heart began beating a little faster. Elevating anxiety was threatening her composure but she was fighting back. She tried to put the situation into perspective quickly. She had limited time to find a solution, a tidy way to process this.

The practice would occupy most of her time. There would be Theatre two days a week or perhaps only one and a half. She would be consulting at the private practice at least three days, maybe even three and a half. Thoughts of their recent night together, their romantic whirlwind engagement and their year as husband and wife had to be replaced hurriedly with a professional demeanour. She needed to rebuild those walls that had protected her for the last three years and which would once again be her saviour when she walked into the office to face Tom.

Clearly his presence at the hospital would complicate things but she wouldn’t run and hide. She needed to face this head-on. She was thirty-two years old now with a respected medical career. The fact that they had spent one crazy night together couldn’t affect their work, they had to put it behind them.

Perhaps he already had done that, she told herself. He had left the hotel room without a word and he hadn’t contacted her since, so he must be feeling the same way. She desperately needed to freeze her heart before she saw his face.

Reaching down for her briefcase, she waited a moment for the young man to leave. With her head held high, she would walk into Tom’s office and behave as if nothing had ever happened.

Unfortunately, she assumed the young man would be walking, not running, and not straight into her.

His full weight met with her tiny frame, sending her crashing back into the wall and her briefcase tumbling down to the ground.

‘Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there,’ he gasped, as he reached out to steady Sara. ‘Are you okay?’

Sara was stunned into silence for a moment. Finally she managed to mutter, ‘I’m fine, really.’ She was a little shaken but didn’t want to make a fuss. Bending down to gather her belongings, she didn’t think the day could get any worse.

‘No, you’re not. You’re bleeding. You’ve cut your leg!’

Sara spied the gash on her knee. The open lock on her briefcase must have cut her before it hit the ground.

‘Come with me. You’ll have to sit down while I get some antiseptic and gauze.’ The young man directed Sara into the office he had just left. Tom’s office. This was not the entrance she had hoped to make, which had been walking in confidently and meeting Tom on an equal footing. Now, limping in, she wasn’t going to meet him on any footing.

* * *

Tom didn’t lift his eyes from the papers he was reading on his desk. Sara noticed his white exam coat was still thrown over the chair. He had always hated wearing it, and apparently he still did. The top button of his blue striped shirt was undone and there was no sign of a tie.

‘They’re waiting downstairs, Johnson...you need to get there stat.’ His voice was stern but not abrasive.

Sara stood in the doorway supported by her apologetic assailant. Across the room she watched the man who had captured her heart all those years ago and who had made love to her only a few short weeks ago. For the briefest moment time seemed to stand still. Her resolve to forget their history vanished and she found herself wondering how it would be if things had been different between them.

She hated feeling this way. It wasn’t fair and she couldn’t allow her feelings to cloud her future. The chemistry they shared had allowed the anger and frustration to dissipate over dinner and drinks. But here in the hospital she would fight it. Her biological clock was ticking louder than her heart and she was determined that Tom Fielding would not rob her of the chance to have a family. She would not make that sacrifice. Letting him leave the hotel room had proved to Sara that she had the reserves to do it. To walk away a second time, and to let him do the same.

Tom’s eyes were shadowed by a slight frown before he lifted his head and met her gaze. Abruptly the frown vanished and he stood to his feet.

‘Sara, I thought you were in San Antonio. What are you doing here?’ Suddenly Tom’s eyes dropped to the injury on her leg. ‘Are you hurt? What on earth happened?’ Concern etched his voice as he crossed the room with long purposeful strides. He drew her into his arms and pulled her close to his firm body as Johnson released his support.

Sara resisted Tom’s hold. She tried to pull away but his strong arms held her still.

‘I crashed into her, Dr Fielding. I didn’t see her. I’m sorry. She was waiting outside but I was in a hurry and boof—I hit her.’ The young man re-enacted the collision with his hands.

‘Grab that chair,’ Tom said, motioning towards the large armchair that sat by the window. ‘Bring it here quickly.’

The young man dragged the chair across the room and Tom gently lowered Sara onto the cushioned leather.

‘There’s a first-aid kit in the cupboard to the right of the bookcase.’

Sara heard the instructions Tom gave to Johnson but her eyes were transfixed on Tom as he crossed the room to retrieve a small footstool by the bookcase.

He looked every bit as gorgeous in the daylight as he had that night just a month ago. His lean, angular face was slightly tanned and his grey eyes were luminous beneath his sandy brows.

He smiled at her as he carried the footstool back, his wide sensual mouth slowly curving upwards. But she would not reciprocate.

Tom had no place in her life any more. In fact, he should never have been there. They were two very different people with completely different priorities in life.

Sara swallowed hard. ‘It’s just a little scratch, honestly. It’s nothing...’ Her words were cut short when she felt the warmth of his hands on her bare skin. He looked into her eyes as he knelt on the floor beside her, gently lifting her leg and placing it on the stool. He moved the hem of her skirt slightly to assess the damage to her knee. She swallowed hard. She hated that the feel of his fingers lightly touching her skin sent shivers down her spine. Again she wished she had worn heavy woollen tights, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold.

Johnson handed him an antiseptic wipe and some gauze.

‘It’s just a superficial wound. I’ll clean it up but I think a plaster will suffice.’

‘I’m so glad and I’m so sorry, I mean it. I can’t believe what a day I’ve had and now this—’

‘We’ll be fine here, Johnson,’ Tom interrupted. ‘Go and collect your patient but this time just take it a little slower.’

‘Are you sure? You don’t need anything?’

‘Positive,’ Tom replied, not taking his eyes off Sara.

Sara watched from the corner of her eye as the young man put the first-aid kit back on Tom’s desk, picked up her briefcase and overcoat from the doorway, put them by her chair and left the room.

And left them alone.

Tom’s hands were still cradling her leg. The plaster was securely attached to the clean wound but he didn’t want to release her. He had forgotten how good it felt to have Sara this close. He had no idea why she was in his office but for the briefest moment he didn’t care. She was with him again. Near him again. And he could touch her soft, warm skin. Her perfume was invading his senses. It was the same fragrance she had always worn. So little had changed and yet so much had changed for ever.

Finally he came to his senses and reluctantly released his hold, standing up and moving back to his desk. He looked at the woman before him. She was as beautiful as the day they’d met, the day they’d married and the day she’d left him. But she had left him.

‘What brings you back to Melbourne and my office?’ he asked, as he rested back against the wooden frame and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I thought you’d be in Texas by now.’ He suddenly felt the need to protect himself. Then the realisation of why she had come to the hospital hit him. She must have grown tired of waiting for the divorce papers to make the return trip to her, so she had made the visit to collect them herself.

‘The documents are with my lawyer. No doubt they’ll be with yours tomorrow.’

Sara suddenly realised that Tom had no idea either. He was obviously equally clueless that they would be working at the same hospital.

‘I’m not here for the papers, Tom. Although I’m glad to hear that’s progressing,’ she announced. ‘No, actually, I’m here to work for a month, filling in for Stu.’

‘You’re filling in for Stu?’ Tom was gobsmacked.

‘You never said anything that night when we...’ He hesitated for a minute. He didn’t want to allude to what he knew they were both thinking. He cleared his throat. ‘When we bumped into each other. I’m surprised you didn’t say anything.’

Sara just stared at him for a moment, trying desperately to push the vivid snapshots of the evening from her mind.

‘I didn’t know back then, when we...’ She paused. It was becoming more awkward and uncomfortable by the minute. ‘That night, well, I hadn’t spoken with Stu and I had no idea you consulted here. But even if I had known, if you remember, we didn’t talk work at all.’

Tom nodded in silence.

Sara knew she would never have accepted Stu’s proposal to fill in for him if she had known Tom worked at the hospital where she would be operating. She had assumed he was safely ensconced at the other side of town. But she had to deal with the situation. There was no other choice. Stu would never find another oral surgeon on short notice and she would never leave him high and dry like that. She just had to deal with Tom.

‘So, what are you doing at this hospital?’

‘I’m the associate professor of oral surgery.’

Sara was taken aback. Tom hadn’t said a word that night. With a title like that, and the extraordinary workload and dedication to achieve such a position, he had certainly earned some bragging rights. But he had said nothing about it. She wanted to say how proud she was of him, but of course pride carried ownership or at the very least attachment, and she couldn’t afford either.

‘Congratulations, Tom,’ she finally decided, keeping it simple. ‘That must have been a lot of work. You must be the youngest associate professor on staff.’

‘So they say. But I’d completed my PhD, and had a year post-doctoral experience so I met the selection criteria. The board approved my appointment for three years and I’m only six months into it,’ he responded. The PhD had kept his mind from missing Sara after she left. It had provided him with a focus and purpose in getting up each day.

‘I still operate on private patients but I’m more involved with the teaching and rotation programme in the undergraduate, graduate and professional curricula and the development of post-qualifying modules. But enough about me. I’m still in shock that you are Stu’s mysterious replacement.’

‘What do you mean, mysterious?’ Sara replied, giving him a puzzled look.

‘I mean he hadn’t told me who was filling in at the practice. Stu told me that he had it covered but not that you were his replacement.’

Sara was even more confused. Stu’s private practice was not his concern. ‘Why do you discuss his practice? Don’t you still have your own?’

Tom gave her a wry look. ‘Because we’re partners, Stu’s a partner now in my old practice—he bought in a few months ago. I only consult there one day a week now. The hospital consumes most of my time, but I still wanted to maintain some patient contact.’

Sara was completely flustered for a moment. Not only was Tom consulting at the hospital where she would be operating but he was also a partner at the practice where she would be consulting for the next month. She would be working at Tom’s old practice. This was quickly spiralling into a disaster.

‘Oh, well, at least this will be uncomfortable for both of us,’ she said honestly.

Tom stood watching her carefully, looking for clues as to what she was thinking and, more importantly, feeling. He wanted some signs that would let him into her head. There was nothing. She really had shut him out. That night had been nothing but a moment of passion between two lonely people in a big city. Nothing more.

He knew then and there what he had to do. He had to keep his ex-wife away from his heart. Or he’d go mad. It was crazy and he knew it but he still loved the woman sitting there, so close but emotionally so distant. The woman who had captured his heart all those years ago still held it quite firmly in her hands. He had to push her away. Or, more to the point, he had to push her out of his reach.

He didn’t need a reminder of why she’d left. Or why she’d had to leave. They had shared that discussion too many times to recall.

Any feelings she’d once had for him were clearly gone. He had to accept it. And so he adopted the same detached demeanour. A demeanour very far from his true feelings.

‘There really shouldn’t be any problems. That night...’ He paused. ‘Let’s just say old habits, reminiscing, we crossed the line, both of us. It won’t happen again. But, hey, we got it out of our systems. Like an itch that needed a good scratch, and now it’s done we can both move on.’

Sara was thrown by his response. It was cold. He really was over them. An itch? That sounded so unlike the Tom she had known. Still, three years had passed and he had obviously changed. Or, just like her, was he putting on a façade to make the arrangement they found themselves in a little less awkward? It didn’t matter. They both knew and understood the rules.

Without answering, Tom crossed back to her and reached for her leg. Sara jumped as his hand gently lifted her leg down from the stool and placed her foot back on the floor.

‘We’re good, Sara...we’re good.’

* * *

Sara wasn’t so sure. She was going to be operating at the hospital for a month. That meant bumping into each other, on ward rounds, near the OR. There were too many opportunities where they would see each other.

The way her body had reacted to Tom made her realise only too quickly that the chemistry she shared with him wasn’t just a memory. She suddenly worried if her love for him would ever truly be over. But they had no future. She would not give up on the idea of bringing children into the world. Being a mother was a dream she wanted to hold onto but Tom never wanted to be a father. That was written in stone.

She had spent too long getting him out of her head and her heart.

Sara looked at him, and even through her tired eyes she could see the man who won her love was still as handsome and charismatic as ever. It’s four short weeks. It can’t be that difficult.

‘I’m a little tired—can we discuss the work schedule later? We can sort out the personal arrangements too over the next few days. I’m happy with the financial separation the way it is. It won’t change after we divorce. You won’t need to support me, so it should be done very quickly.’