An Act of Persuasion(7)

“My doctor and I are making decisions regarding my future health that I would prefer to remain private between me and her. Is that really too much to ask?”

Anna could feel her anger bubble over. She’d been walking around his house like a shaken-up can of soda with the lid firmly in place for too long. She couldn’t contain it any longer.

“Yes. It is too much to ask when three days ago I was on my knees in front of you.”

He flinched, then paused as if collecting himself before he spoke. Or maybe he was trying to recall the speech he’d already had prepared.

“Anna, about that night...”

“I don’t want to talk about that night.” She could feel the panic creeping in and she had to force herself to calm down. “I want to know why I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Look, if it’s too much of an inconvenience—”

“Don’t play the guilt card with me. You know I would take you anywhere. Just tell me the truth. What. Is. Happening. Tomorrow.”

He brought his hands together on the desk and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve decided to move forward with the stem cell transplant.”

“You can’t. You don’t have a direct biological match and so far nothing has hit in the donor pool. You know this.”

“They’re going to use embryonic cells. The research—”

“Don’t talk to me about research. I know the research. What the hell do you think I’ve been doing these past months? Every medical journal, article, anything I could find regarding the cure for this disease I’ve studied. What you’re doing is taking a major risk when you don’t have to.”

“It’s my life. It’s my risk to take. I’m done playing with this disease.”

That was the thing about emotional pain. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t stinging. It wasn’t even dull. It just moved all over the body like one big blow that you didn’t see coming until you felt it everywhere.

“So that’s it. You weren’t going to tell me.”

“I was going to tell you in the morning. Frankly, I didn’t want to have the argument we’re having now. I knew you wouldn’t be happy. But really this isn’t your concern.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean it’s none of my concern?”

His words actually made it worse. He knew what he was doing to her, but he chose to do it anyway. What he was doing...this treatment could kill him. Faster than the leukemia. She was standing in this room with this man who she’d worshiped for six years, and in months, possibly even weeks, he could leave her. Forever.

His life. His risk. What about her life?

“And you made this decision when?” Then she held up a finger to stop him. “Wait, let me guess. Three days ago.”

“Anna—”

“No, I don’t want to hear your excuse.”

“I’m not making any excuses. What I did was...unforgiveable. I let myself...lose control and for that I’m sorry. But what happened wasn’t completely one-sided.”

Of course it wasn’t. Yes, she had willingly participated. Hell, she’d practically jumped him when she realized what he was thinking. Six years she’d waited for Ben to make a move, give her some sign that what they had between them was more than business. When he’d looked at her that night and she’d seen the desire in his eyes it was as though her whole body imploded with one simple, single answer: yes.

Only what she thought was a realization of his feelings for her was simply an opportunity for one final bang. He’d used her, and she didn’t know if she could stomach that.

“I was nothing more than a convenience for you,” she muttered.

“No, that isn’t true. It wasn’t like I made this decision and then decided to...to—”

“Screw me?”

Again, he flinched, but she was tired of walking on eggshells around him, tired of taking all her cues from him about what they could and could not talk about.

They had sex. And within that act there had been intimacy. He couldn’t lie about that. He couldn’t say it was a mistake he made. What she’d seen in his eyes when he came into her...that was real.

“Look, Anna, I’m sorry for what I did. It just happened. But it doesn’t change anything between us.”

It just happened. The most significant moment of her life to date and he’d dismissed it as an impulse.