His Sugar Baby(85)

“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 f*cked-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