The Very Thought of You (4 page)

“The present.” He seemed to stare at her left hand and frowned. The hospital intercom beeped. They heard a doctor being paged to the O.R. Otherwise the quiet murmurs of the other cafeteria patrons drifted into the heavy silence at their table.

“I suppose you want me to forget about what we had?” he said leaning forward.

It wasn't just what Caleb had said, it was the way he said it that had goose bumps pricking the back of Miranda's neck.

“I think that would be best,” she said cautiously.

“What kind of lowlife, irresponsible man do you think I am, Miranda? How can you sit there, look me in the eyes and expect me to walk away from her?”

She looked at him and frowned in exasperation. “
Her?
What are you talking about?”

“My daughter,” he said, piercing her with his razor-sharp ebony eyes.

I
f he had suddenly grown another head and sprouted wings, he couldn't have shocked her more. For long moments, she couldn't speak, couldn't move and could barely even breathe. She felt her mouth hanging slack in an expression attributed to the crazed. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“But I don't believe what I heard.” Miranda meant to stand up and move away, but before she could move his fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vise. Then, to make it appear as though they were having an intimate conversation, he leaned in close and smiled—a chilling upward turn of his lips she couldn't help but appreciate even though she was still stunned by his accusation.

“You seem surprised,” he said, his voice crackling with emotion. “Did you think that I wouldn't find out that you came here with a little girl? A ten-year-old?”

Not only furious but still caught off guard, she ceased struggling, sat back down and took a deep breath. “Let me go, Caleb.”

“Tell me about Kelly.”

“Fine!” she ground out through clenched teeth. “She looks younger than she really is. Kelly's eleven years old. Ryan and I have cared for her since she was a toddler.”

“Ryan?” The menace in Caleb's voice sent a second wave of ice down her spine.

“My ex-husband,” Miranda elaborated.

Caleb's gaze darkened and his brows pulled together in a furious frown. “You got married after you left Atlanta?”

Inwardly Miranda shivered. She'd spent over an hour in front of the mirror practicing for this moment, but the reality of his fingers biting into her arm hadn't been part of the rehearsal. She swallowed and barely managed to keep her voice even as she responded. “We met right after I started working in Washington.”

“I guess it didn't take you long to find someone after you left me, did it?” he sarcastically asked. “Makes me wonder if you ever really loved me.”

His words were like a kick to her teeth. He thought that she'd never loved him! She'd spent over a year in therapy relearning how to live her life without him. Indignation filled her throat. If she hadn't taken the necessary steps to end their relationship, she would have had to move to California or he would have had to stay out of school for a year and reapply to a medical school in the D.C. area. With either option, they both would have been miserable. The way that Miranda saw it, he should have been thanking her.

“I walked in on you with another woman, Caleb. And after the pain and humiliation dissipated, I forgave you. How dare you question my feelings when I loved you enough to let you go?” she said angrily. “If we'd stayed together, I would have ended up a trophy wife and blamed you for my never having a career.”

Caleb released her and placed his fists on the table. His features turned to ice and the dark brown eyes gazing at her were filled with pain and anger. “So I should be grateful to this ex-husband of yours for saving me from a life with you?”

“You should be grateful that I don't slap you,” she said. Each word was perfectly and slowly pronounced.

“Miranda—”

She held up a hand. “No, Caleb. I think we've said more than enough. Our relationship ended over eleven years ago. What I did and I am doing after that period is none of your business.”

“If the child is mine, then it is my business. I've done nothing but obsess about the way we left things between us. I know that you were angry and you wanted to hurt me. I forgive you. You don't have to lie to me, Miranda. Just tell me the truth. Is she my daughter?”

“I am telling you the truth.” The words flew out of her mouth even though her mind called it a lie. For the hundredth time since she'd agreed to take responsibility for Kelly, Miranda was grateful for the drama classes her mother had recommended she take as an elective in high school.

“Miranda,” he said with such authority that she froze. “Swear to me that she's not my child.”

Not wanting him to think that she was guilty, she met his stare again, righteous indignation exuding from her every pore. “She is my child, not yours. I knew her mother and when she died in a car crash, I was given custody of her daughter because she had no parents and the father was also deceased. The formal adoption only went through last year. I may have thought that you were the scum of the earth for cheating on me, but I've never doubted that you would be a wonderful father for any child and I would never keep a child from their true parents.” The last sentence resounded with the truth.

He released her wrists and she snatched them back and began massaging them.

Miranda eyed him warily across the table. His shoulders slumped forward and he looked everywhere but her face. The furrows of his brow deepened and for a split second, she wanted to reach over and soothe them away as she'd done years ago.

“I didn't want to believe that you could do something like that, but…” His voice trailed off.

“But?” she prompted.

“You were so adamant that I forget the past that I thought you wanted to hide her from me.”

“Caleb,” she gently chided. “I work for the logistics and planning department of the Witness Protection Agency, so I help hide people for a living. Even if I didn't, do you honestly think I would have been dumb enough to show up in this town with a Blackfox child and not have anyone realize her? All it would take is a trip to the grocery store and I would have every member in your family banging on the front door.”

He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Look, Miranda, I didn't think. I was angry.”

“Well get over it, Caleb. I have a sick brother and a little girl to think about. I don't have enough bandwidth to add you to my list right now.”

“You're right.”

She didn't know if it was her tone or her words that had reached him, but something did. Cautiously, she let go of the breath she'd been holding and pushed her chair back. The wooden legs squeaked on the linoleum floor. “You'll continue as my brother's doctor?” she asked after standing.

“You still want that?”

She nodded. “Sure. I'm going to check in on Darren before I leave. Goodbye, Caleb.”

“One last question, Miranda. Did you love him?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she exhaled. He meant Ryan, her fictional ex-husband. She was a good liar, but she wasn't that good. Instead she softly replied, “I trusted him.”

And then without another word she left the room.

 

“My ex-husband.”

Caleb inhaled deeply as Miranda turned on her heel and strode out of the cafeteria. All the while his eyes never left the curvaceous backside.

Damn it, she'd walked out on him again. He closed his eyes as anger and disbelief stabbed his gut.

His first love had become some other man's wife. And it was all his fault.

Burying his face in his hands, his mind went back to that day. Their graduation ceremony was less than two weeks away and he'd just gotten the letter in the mail. After months on the waiting list, he'd been lucky enough to have been accepted into his first-choice medical school. Feeling ready to celebrate, he'd thrown a small party at his place and invited all of his buddies. He'd left messages on Miranda's voice mail and expected her to attend. It hadn't taken much to spread the word. And a few phone calls, along with his American Express card, had secured a number of tables at the local club, top-shelf alcohol and food for the night. After his friends had arrived and the party had started, everything became a messy blur of memories lost in a mix of alcohol.

The next morning, the alarm clock had startled Caleb out of his blissful alcoholic slumber and thrust him into a nightmarish world of pain and regret. When he'd slowly opened his eyes, with relief he'd found himself in his own bed. But the relief quickly disappeared. On the hangover scale of one to ten, his was a fifty. His head felt like a dangerously overinflated basketball being drib-bled by a sadistic toddler, and his stomach felt like an octopus getting electrocuted. He sniffed and the smell of smoke and liquor seeped from every pore.

An hour later, after a long shower, he'd finally dragged himself to the kitchen in hopes of getting an aspirin. Just as he crossed the living area, something caught his eye. A bag from his favorite Chinese restaurant, a bottle of wine and a wrapped gift sat on the dining room table. And the fog of the remaining alcohol in his bloodstream cleared as he remembered how he'd gotten home the night before. With precision clarity, he saw his friends dumping him into the backseat of his car and giving Jessica Greene the keys. His gut twisted at the realization that Miranda had possibly walked in before Jessica had left him passed out on the bed.

Caleb got out of his chair and picked up the empty coffee cups. He'd rushed to Miranda's dorm room only to find it empty, and then driven like a maniac to her parents' house. After two weeks of calling and pleading with her family, she'd agreed to see him only to say she never wanted to see him again.

His jaw clenched. Last time he'd walked away.

Never again.

 

Later on that night, after picking Kelly up from her aunt's and returning to the hotel suite, Miranda tucked the child into bed and kissed her on the forehead. As she stared down into her face, a measure of peace returned to her heart. Straightening up, she not only felt a dull pain in her back but also became more aware of her restless state. Turning around, she walked into the hotel bathroom, closed the door and turned on the water for the bath. Within the few minutes it took to fill the bathtub, she removed her wrinkled clothes and finished her nightly ablution.

Miranda finally climbed into the tub, immersing her body in the hot water. For a moment she stared straight ahead at the steam rising from the water. She closed her eyes and even as her muscles began to relax, her mind continued to hum with the day's events.

Why couldn't he have moved to another state? Why did he have to work in this hospital? Why did he have to be her brother's attending physician?

She blew out an impatient breath. Was this a case of karma, or was it just unfinished business? Whatever the case, she'd recognized the look of determination in Caleb's eyes. Regardless of her wishes, he wasn't going away. Memories of old times drowned out reality. Time spent talking on the phone to the wee hours of the morning, meeting for a quick lunch at their favorite café. She remembered the sight of his smiling face outside her door. She also remembered walks through Piedmont Park holding his hand and acting like kids, spending all day at the amusement park. She caught mental images of being wrapped in Caleb's arms as they had watched old movies and ate popcorn on the couch.

Truthfully, Miranda didn't want him to leave her alone.

She sank even lower into the tub so that her chin almost touched the water. Crossing her arms, she held still, feeling the small ripples. Earlier when she'd told Caleb that she'd believed him years ago when he'd admitted to not sleeping with her worst enemy, she hadn't lied. If someone had ever asked her who she trusted with her life, Caleb would still be on the list.

But no matter how much she'd loved and trusted him then, nothing could change the fact that they were destined to live separate lives. His acceptance to Stanford Medical School and her job offer in Washington, D.C., had forced her to make one of the most difficult and selfish decisions of her life. Even before the night she'd walked in on Caleb and Jessica, she'd had her doubts about their relationship.

Darren's intense dislike of Caleb and her parents' misgivings about the relationship had only increased her doubts. In the end, she'd used Caleb's supposed infidelity as an excuse to push him away.

Miranda sighed and sat up in the bathtub. For a second she heard the heavy footsteps of someone walking down the hotel corridor. Tomorrow, she and Kelly would move into her childhood home. Hopefully within the next two weeks, Kelly would enroll in the local school and Miranda's brother would be home from the hospital. For the next few months, she wouldn't have to wake up at 5:00 a.m. and take the metro into work, sit in her office working on the computer, attend meetings, or interview. As wonderful as it sounded, she couldn't help but feel a little lost.

Even with everything she faced, she felt good about being back home in a place that filled her with wonderful memories. And there were so many things that hadn't changed. Caleb was just as devastatingly handsome, her brother was still pigheaded and overprotective, and the entire town shut down at ten o' clock. And both she and Caleb were very single, responsible adults.

Correction, she added mentally. According to her altered records, she had an ex-husband and an adopted child. Miranda lifted her hand and stared at the wrinkles in her fingertips. It was way past time for her to get out of the bathtub. After opening the drain, she climbed out of the large tub and wrapped a bath towel around her body. Her muscles had relaxed to the point that she felt like a limp dishrag. Drawing on the last of her energy reserves, she finished drying off and opened her personal cocoa-scented lotion. Mechanically, she smoothed the lotion over her skin. The past is the past, she thought to herself firmly.