Hot Commodity (Banks / Kincaid Family #1)(60)

Glancing down at the gauzy square bandage, she shuddered. It was amazing that such a tiny suture held together what had seemed like a huge gaping hole only an hour ago. Just thinking about all the gore that had come out of that hole made her woozy all over again. She reached out a hand to brace herself against the wall just as a nurse walked in.

"Whoa. You okay there?" The nurse caught her shoulder.

"I’m good," Olivia murmured. Considering.

"Well, don’t try to stand up so fast. You haven’t quite got your land legs back yet."

She hadn’t been trying to stand, but Olivia didn’t mention that. Slowly, she eased off the cot, hating the sound of the sterile padding crinkling under her as she stood. She’d never been a fan of hospitals. They reminded her of death and sickness, and thinking of death always brought up a picture of her father slumped in a bloody pile on the floor.

She winced and swallowed down more nausea.

"So…" The nurse asked curiously, glancing down at Olivia’s bandaged arm. "How in the world did this happen?"

Olivia nearly groaned. What could she say? Well, you see, I was throwing a fit because the man I want to stay married to refuses to give me the annulment I’ve been demanding. So, I was slamming doors and flinging shoes left and right. When I shut the medicine cabinet too hard, glass went flying and voilà...

"The mirrored cabinet door in my bathroom broke when I was closing it."

"Hmm." The woman’s stare was dry. "Fragile door," she finally answered.

Olivia groaned. "Okay, okay," she gave in. "I was being a drama queen after having this fight—" if the event could even be considered a fight—"with my husband. I went to the bathroom to get an aspirin, because by this point, I had a raging headache."

"Uh huh," the nurse said, urging her on and nodding because she obviously knew about men-induced headaches.

"So I snatched out the bottle and opened the cap, but when I tried to lift the handful of pills to my mouth, my arm bumped into the still open cabinet door, and I spilled all the aspirin down the drain." Olivia let out a sigh of relief, glad that moment of frustrated anger had passed.

"So you glared at the door for causing you to spill all your drugs and slammed it shut," the nurse continued for her, able to summarize Olivia’s tale. "Causing it to shatter into a million pieces and take a nice chuck out of your arm."

Olivia’s shoulders slumped. "Exactly."

The nurse treated her to a sympathetic smile. "Bummer."

"I never did get that aspirin either," Olivia complained as she pressed a palm to her aching forehead.

"Well, I’ve got good news," the nurse smiled and handed her a slip of paper. "The doctor wrote out a prescription for some nice, hefty pain killers."

"Oh, thank God." Olivia snagged the sheet from her hand.

"And you’ve been released. So, you’re free to go."

*

Cameron sat in the waiting room. He probably would’ve been pacing with worry—if he hadn’t been so steeped in the past. But horrors from another lifetime consumed him, so he sat as still as a statue, thinking of his first wife.

They had been married four months the first time Sienna tried to commit suicide. Well, that was the first time she tried since Cameron had come into her life. He hadn’t been expecting it, and he hadn’t been prepared.

The fight had been about nothing really. They were always coming to a confrontation over the stupidest things. This time it had been about arranging the living room. They’d bought a new television, and Cameron wanted to move something to better fit it into its spot. But his new wife didn’t like change. He hadn’t even raised his voice as he disagreed with her and told her why he thought the placement should be the way he suggested. But she started crying anyway, making him immediately apologize. In return, she ran to their room and locked herself inside.

The next afternoon, she took too many of her prescription pills for depression and started to convulse. When Cameron came home for work to find her passed out on the bedroom floor, he freaked. He had the presence of mind to call an ambulance, but that was about it. They took her away and pumped her stomach. Afterward, a psychologist came in and did an evaluation. He decided Sienna wasn’t stable enough to be in society, and within hours she was sent to a mental institution for three weeks’ evaluation.

Cameron visited her daily and told her how sorry he was about the fight. He’d never let it happen again. He’d change; she’d see.

But the stress of having to constantly be so accommodating, to always be on the ball and smiling for her, wore on him. After they’d been married six months, Sienna must’ve realized what she was doing to her new husband.

Spring break came and, happy to ditch classes and college for a while, Cameron took her away. They went to the Bahamas and basked in the sun for a week. But Sienna noticed he didn’t try so hard to make her laugh anymore because she mentioned it to him and told him it was okay. He knew

it wasn’t but didn’t argue.

She told him he could leave her. He rejected her idea, of course, and worked extra hard not to let any of his exhausted frustrations show. He didn’t say anything to get them into a fight, and he was constantly nice. Sometimes, all he could do was hold her in his arms and stroke her hair, telling her he loved her.