His Sugar Baby (35 page)

“Thank God!
Cathy!
”

“What happened?” she croaked. They told her hesitantly, fumblingly, pityingly. Cathy absorbed it all without speaking. Her eyes flickered only when they told her about Michael’s role. “Chloe?”

It was John who answered. “We haven’t told her. We didn’t want to worry her. I went upstairs to check on her a little while ago. She’s okay.”

* * * *

When the news was relayed to Michael that she had wakened and recognized her sister and brother-in-law, he felt a huge surge of relief. He was physically recovered from the bloodletting, but it still took all he had to go into the hospital room to face her.

He paused just inside the door. The Thompsons turned unfriendly, wary gazes on him. As one, they looked back at Cathy in a way that spoke volumes. She shook her head. Her voice was a mere whisper. “It’s okay.”

John scowled in disapproval. “We’ll leave you alone for a few minutes then.”

He and his wife got up with obvious reluctance to exit the private room. Michael stood aside for them to walk past. John threw a glance of warning at him before the door closed.

Michael thrust his hands into his pants pockets and walked forward. His gaze never left her face. “I don’t blame them for not trusting me with you.”

Cathy watched his slow approach toward the bed. She felt at a distinct disadvantage lying there under the bedclothes. The tension ratcheted up, almost palpable. She plucked nervously at the bedcovers. She made an effort to strengthen her voice, but it still came out sounding like a thin reed. “Why did you–you ask to see me?”

He did not immediately answer. He took his hands out of his pockets but then didn’t seem to know what to do with them. He moved restlessly from the foot of the hospital bed to the sun-streaked window and back again. Finally, he said, “I—wanted to see how you were.”

“The doctor said I am doing fine.” Though she didn’t want to owe him anything, Cathy reluctantly acknowledged her debt. “They told me—you saved my life. It was good of you to—”

His ice-blue eyes blazed. He bit off a savage laugh. “Yeah, I’m a great bastard.” He thrust his fingers through his hair. Guilt, anger, and something else flickered across his face. He turned his eyes to the window for a long, tense moment. Then Michael looked back at her, deep regret in his gaze. “I’m sorry about the baby, Catherine. I would have liked—wanted—” He broke off, making a strange gesture of helplessness.

Cathy dropped her gaze, unable to stand the odd vulnerability in his expression. The stress of his presence grew on her. She cast up a fleeting glance. He was staring down at her with such a strange look on his face. The tiredness suddenly swamped her. She was so not up to this. She sighed. “Michael, I want you to go. But first, explain it to me. All of it.”

He narrowed his eyes, the cold gunslinger look intimidating. “I don’t see any reason to discuss the past right now.’

Cathy didn’t back off. “You owe me, you bastard!” She met him stare for stare. She could afford to wait. She had nothing left to lose. The silence was deafening.

Michael was the first to break away. He swung round to the window, turned so that his profile was to her. His voice rough, he said, “You’re right. I do owe you.” He drew an audible breath, as though he braced himself. “When Morgan and I married, I thought we had one of the lucky marriages that would beat all of the odds. We had a good life with the house and all the perks. Morgan didn’t want a family. I did. I thought we would work it out. Both of us were ambitious and driven. We spent long hours at our jobs, but when we were together, we were compatible in every way.”

His words hit her like shards of glass. He obviously loved his wife. She hadn’t imagined that it would hit her so hard. Cathy forced out stiff words. “So what went wrong?”

He thrust his hands into his pockets. Tension suddenly radiated from his body. His voice flattened. “One day I came in from a business trip early. I was bored, restless, unable to sleep.”

Cathy discovered that her fingernails were cutting into her palms. Though she hated herself for it, she was still attuned to the nuances of his voice. The terse words were underlaid with such strong emotion that she suddenly realized whatever was inside his head would cost him dear to air. She couldn’t let him do that to himself. “Michael, you don’t have to tell me.”

He turned his head. His pale eyes were blazing. “You wanted to hear it, Catherine!”

She realized that he had come too far to retreat. She licked dry lips. “All right.”

Michael’s voice became steely. “There was a DVD left in the player. I clicked it on. It wasn’t a movie. My wife and her personal trainer had filmed themselves fucking each other. There was not just one encounter recorded, but several, dated over a series of months.” He paused, then shrugged. “She is still with him.”

Cathy was stunned. Thoughts and emotions tumbled through her, pity and compassion uppermost. So much about their own relationship was suddenly made clear to her. Their arrangement, built on impersonal boundaries that he had insisted on. After what his wife had done, he obviously couldn’t place trust in anyone. Then she had told him she loved him, and that’s when he had pulled the rabbit out of the hat.
I have a wife.

Cathy’s gaze locked on his face.

“
Don’t look at me like that, Winter!
” He was suddenly breathing as hard as if he had been running. He swung around, starting swiftly for the door, obviously intent on getting out of the hospital room away from her.

Cold fury poured through her, lending strength to her battered body. She sat bolt upright and shouted at his back. “Don’t you dare run away, Michael! Be honest with yourself! And with me! You started to feel something for me, didn’t you?
Didn’t you!
”

He turned to face her, white-faced. He didn’t deny it.

“You tried sealing yourself off, but that didn’t work. You were still so wound up in your wife’s adultery that you refused to give us a chance!
Damn you, Michael!
”

Through the blur of her tears, she could make out his hazy form. He started toward her. She dashed the back of her hand across her eyes. She saw his outstretched hand. “No, don’t!
Don’t touch me!
I can’t take any more. Get out, Michael! Leave me alone! Please!
Just go!
”

Michael jerked as though he had been shot. His arm dropped to his side. He became very still as his eyes searched her face. Barely above a hoarse whisper, he asked, “Are you sure? Is that what you want?”

“You can’t trust me. You can’t trust yourself. That leaves us nowhere, Michael.” She closed her eyes and fell back against the pillows. She was deathly tired. “I’m tired.” Her body felt so cold. She wrapped her arms around herself.

There were several heartbeats of complete silence except for the harshness of his breathing and the ping of the heart monitor. Then she heard the soft footfalls approach. Cathy felt the unexpected warmth of Michael’s lips pressing against her forehead. That night after they had made out at the movie theater, just before he had told her goodnight, he had made the same tender gesture. She had thought it meant something.

She shrank away from his touch, pressing back into the pillows.

She didn’t open her eyes or speak, even when she heard his swift footsteps cross the hospital room. She would not call him back. She would not! Her throat burned with the grief that she held in. She listened for him to leave. The door opened then closed. Cathy clenched her jaw. Her hands balled into fists in the bedcovers. Tears streamed out from under her eyelids, but she wept in silence.

* * * *

The hospital room door closed softly, with finality, behind him. Michael squeezed his eyes shut against the intolerable pain. He stood there, his chest heaving for air. He bent over with splayed hands on his thighs and breathed harshly through his mouth. Desolation swept through him. He had lost her, as surely as if she had died.

After an indeterminate time, he straightened up. He pushed back his shoulders and forced his wooden body to move in the direction of the waiting room where he knew he would find her family. There were things that needed to be said, that should be said. He didn’t know if he had the courage.

Her sister and brother-in-law stood up as soon as they saw him step across the threshold. With his peripheral vision, Michael was aware that Darryl was seated to the side, engaged in a conversation with Vicky Sotero that broke off when he walked forward to confront the Thompsons.

Darryl slowly stood up, taking swift measure of the situation. “Mike?”

Michael glanced toward him. He shook his head, just a little. This wasn’t a time for Darryl to interfere. Darryl gave a nod. Michael turned back to the Thompsons. “She told me that she was tired.”

“I’ll go sit with her.” Pam hurried out of the waiting room.

John waited until his wife was gone before he turned his eyes on Michael. His expression was tight. He squared his body up with his hands fisted. “I don’t know what happened between you and Cathy.” His words were clipped and cold. “All I know is that she didn’t want anything to do with you anymore, not even after she found out she was pregnant. That tells me enough!”

Michael tried to say something about what a fucked-up mess he had made of things. But he didn’t have the courage after all. “I know I deserve whatever you want to do to me. Beat me to a bloody pulp, if you want. I won’t stop you. Neither will my friend.”

Instead, John swore pithily at him. “You just saved her life, so I’m willing to give you the benefit of a doubt.”

Michael nodded. “Thank you. It’s more than I deserve. You’ll take care of her and Chloe?”

“Yeah, I will.” John narrowed his eyes to search Michael’s face. Whatever he saw caused him to relax his aggressive stance. More quietly, he said, “Is that what you want?”

There was a wealth of unspoken meaning in the spare words. However, Michael understood. He shook his head, the flicker of a self-mocking smile coming to his face. “No, but it’s not my choice to make.”

“I see.” John was silent for a long moment. Then he slowly held out his hand. “Good-bye, Michael.”

Michael grasped the man’s hand before turning away. Darryl was already waiting for him in the doorway. Michael walked out of the waiting room, and his partner silently fell into step beside him. He was never more glad of anything in his life than to know that he had the unconditional support of a good friend, one who would see that he got home all right, because he didn’t think that he could manage it on his own. He had lost his compass.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was a sunny, warm day. Cathy strolled along the familiar greenbelt trail. The gravel crunched under the soles of her athletic shoes. When she came in view of the playground, she walked on until she reached a deserted park bench. She stopped and laid her hands on the back of the bench. The wood was pleasantly sun-warmed under her palms. She took her time to look around. Just like the last time she had been there, children played on the playground equipment and their shrill, happy voices carried to her on the light spring breeze.

When she had been discharged from the hospital, she had been so fragile, both physically and emotionally. It had been difficult to withstand her sister and brother-in-law’s persuasive arguments for her and Chloe to go back to
Singapore
with them. However, she had stood firm. It had been a good decision, she reflected. Her friends, her career, and Chloe’s medical support team had all been in
Austin
. Pam and John had been really good to her. They had paid for a full-year’s lease in advance on the house they had sublet during their visit so that she and Chloe had a nice place to recuperate. John had found a decent used vehicle for her, too. Paul had welcomed her back to her old position, and she was slowly making headway against the remaining medical bills. Everything was turning out. Actually, she had only one regret.
Michael Lambert.

Darryl Harriman and her best friend had become a couple. Cathy never directly asked about Michael, and Darryl rarely volunteered more than an occasional mention of him except in the context of business. It was Vicky who relayed all the news, including the tidbit that Cathy’s ex-husband had been mugged outside his place of business. Vicky hinted broadly that Michael had been instrumental in that nice bit of karmic justice. Cathy had mixed emotions when Vicky had also related that Michael had not started dating or seeing anyone and that his divorce was final. She also heard that Michael volunteered time with at-risk teens. Apparently, Michael had also been marked significantly by what had happened between them, and his life had been shaped for the better. She was glad.

Michael Lambert had saved her life. She had not been fully appreciative of it at the time. She had been in too bad of shape. But now, Cathy was grateful. She had had time to put everything into better perspective. She had finally wrested a hard-won peace in her life. Strangely enough, her panic attacks had never recurred, probably because she had come so close to the worst that she could ever imagine happening. Against all the odds, Chloe had survived and come home, and now she was actually thriving.

As for her torrid affair with Michael and its ugly ending, her therapist had made an acute observation. “The extreme trauma of your life, Cathy, fed and sustained the addictive sexual undertow that you were swept up in. With the turn-around in your daughter’s life, you regained a balance in your own life.”