’
Chérie
, what are you doing?’ he asked with a laugh, reaching for her. ‘Did you lose your key?’
Evading his touch, she stepped back and shook her head. ‘No. I—’ She broke off before her voice cracked, seeing the smile leave his face, doubt and fear dimming the light in those glorious dark eyes.
‘You are scaring me, Lauren. What is it?’
‘I need some space—some time to think,’ she began, cursing her lack of decisiveness.
Gabriel frowned. ‘Space?’
‘Yes.’ Wringing her hands together, she took another step away, trying to find the strength to do what she believed was right.
‘To think about what?’
‘I’m going back to the cottage, Gabriel. We’ve had a great time, but we said no promises, no ties, and I think we need to cool things. You’ve sorted the situation out now about your father,’ she rushed on, her heart breaking at the hurt disbelief on his face. ‘You’re free to plan your future, to find out about your mother’s heritage, to go where you like with your work. The last thing you need is to be shackled to anything or anyone.’
Anger mingled with the pain in his eyes as he looked at her, roughly thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘Don’t make this about me, Lauren. Don’t make excuses. You had to know how much more this had become. It was never some casual fling. Not for me. I had thought not for you either,’ he challenged, his accent more pronounced with his hurt disappointment. ‘Or have the last months been nothing but a game to you?’
‘No, but…’ He had cut her to the quick and she had no way to defend herself so she fell silent.
‘I love you, Lauren. I want to make a commitment to you, to marry you. But that clearly means nothing to you and you don’t feel the same for me. You’ve been pulling away emotionally for days. Just have the guts to say so.’
‘OK.’ She swayed, fearing she was going to collapse in a pit of pain. Nothing had ever been this difficult and she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. ‘You’re right. I can’t commit like that.’ Her voice wavered as she told that fragment of truth. She couldn’t commit but she couldn’t tell him why…because she loved him heart, body and soul and couldn’t burden him with a blind wife. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You’re sorry? Is that meant to make this right?’ he demanded with an anger she had never heard from him before.
Tears stung her eyes. ‘No.’
‘You’ve made your decision, Lauren. There’s nothing else to be said.’
Rigid with tension and with a quiet dignity that cried out with his pain and twisted the knife inside her, Gabriel closed the door, shutting her out of the house and his life. The tears fell then, hot and heavy. Selfishly, she wanted to call him back, to pound on the door, to tell him it was all a mistake and explain everything. She needed him, wanted him, couldn’t face this without him—but she couldn’t manipulate him that way, not after all he had been through with Yvette.
She thought of all he had said, words that should have made her joyous, not despairing. Gabriel loved her. It was what she’d wanted most. But for his sake she had had to reject that love—the most precious of gifts. She didn’t deserve him. Pressing a hand to her mouth to mask the sound of the sobs that racked her body, she turned and stumbled back down the driveway, praying that Oliver and Chloe would not be back yet.
She had achieved what she had set out to do. Now her future stretched ahead of her—cold, dark and full of fear. A future that was going to take her sight, her job, her hobbies, her independence. Even that didn’t seem to matter as much as what she had already lost. Gabriel…the only man she had ever loved.
‘I’
M GOING
for a walk,’ Lauren announced, unable to bear the atmosphere in the cottage any longer and needing to be alone with her thoughts. ‘I’ll take Foxy down to the beach.’
‘Whatever.’
Chloe’s response, while not unfriendly, left Lauren in no doubt that she remained in her friend’s bad books and was not to be forgiven any time soon. Smothering a sigh, knowing it was her own fault for not following Oliver’s advice and confiding in the people who cared for her, she attached Foxy’s lead and let herself out, the Saturday morning sunshine failing to raise her spirits.
She had no idea how she had lived through the last week. Nothing had been this painful and no matter how much she told herself that hurting Gabriel now was better than condemning him to a hopeless future with her, it didn’t help. She couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. People were shocked and surprised by the break-up. However many times Lauren trotted out the same excuse—that things had run their course and she and Gabriel had decided to go their separate ways—the telling never became easier, the lie sticking in her throat, multiplying her agony.
She couldn’t avoid contact with Gabriel at the surgery. The sight of him, proudly dignified yet so obviously unhappy,
ripped at her shredded heart. How she was going to bear the situation for the remainder of his time in Penhally she didn’t know—seeing him every day, not being able to touch him, barely speaking unless it was with strained politeness about work. But the very thought of him leaving for good, of never seeing him again, or hearing his softly accented voice and rumbly laugh, was impossible to contemplate. No matter how much she kept convincing herself she was doing the right thing for Gabriel’s sake, the temptation to be selfish and go to him to confess all never diminished. Indeed, it increased with every hour that passed.
Desperate to escape the pain of losing Gabriel and the anxiety over her diagnosis, she had thrown herself into her work, all the time wondering how long she would be able to do her job and how soon she would have to stop driving completely. Yesterday she had taken Paul Mitchell and his mother on their once-a-month trip to a local private spa that made their hydrotherapy pool available by appointment for patients with special needs. The water-based exercise she was able to do with him was good for Paul with his Duchenne muscular dystrophy.
Some long-term patients she had seen during the last twelve months had been signed off, Mike Trevellyan among them. As well as cases which turned around fairly quickly, like Zena with her sore neck and Dan Somers with his hamstring injury, she had all her regulars, including Harry, Edith and baby Timmy Morrison. Stella Chamberlain’s Parkinson’s disease was still keeping her in the Harbour View Nursing Home, while Gertrude Stanbury was looking forward to returning to her bungalow in Gull Close in the next week. Neither the anticipation of going home nor her painful arthritis diverted Gertrude from commenting on what she viewed as Lauren’s stupidity in letting Gabriel get away.
At home she had Chloe on her case and she recalled her
friend’s initial reaction when she had learned of the break-up. ‘You said to me in the summer to grasp what I had with Oliver, that something that special, some
one
that special, doesn’t come along often in life. You and Gabriel are special, Lauren. He loves you, and I’m sure you love him. Why are you throwing it all away?’
‘You don’t understand.’ And she hadn’t been able to explain.
‘No, I don’t. Neither does Gabriel. He’s confused and distressed. You’ve really hurt him. You owe him more than that.’
Lauren had spent as much time in her room as she could, avoiding Oliver and Chloe. She’d studied the leaflets the professor had given her, looked up information on the Internet and read a couple of biographies written by people who were living with retinitis pigmentosa. It was all depressing but moving. She hoped she could be even as fractionally as brave and resourceful as those whose stories she had read—stories which had scarily mirrored many of her own experiences. With time she hoped to come to terms with it, to make plans, to find some courage to cope with whatever was thrown at her, but the shock still lingered, as did the gut-wrenching ache of missing Gabriel every minute of every day.
Leaving the quiet country roads, she headed down through the town towards the harbour front. All she could do was tell herself she was making the best choice for Gabriel in the long run. He’d had enough of manipulative women in his life. She couldn’t tie him to her out of duty or because he felt sorry for her. But it was almost impossible to let go. Nothing had hurt this much. When his time here was over, he would go back to France and no doubt settle down one day and have a family of his own. She couldn’t allow him to take on a wife who was slowly but surely losing her sight, who might be a genetic risk and unable to have children, and who, at some time down the line, could be blind and dependent in more ways than she could bear to comprehend.
Despite feeling as if she was slowly but surely unravelling, somehow she had to try to survive this torment. One day at a time.
With one more house call left to make on Saturday morning, Gabriel sat in his car outside the patient’s home, his arms folded on the steering-wheel, his head resting on them. A week and a day on and he had still not recovered from the shock of Lauren’s words. One day he had been given the gift of his father’s love and approval, the identity of his birth mother, and had felt his life was finally getting back on track again, but shortly afterwards Lauren had dropped her bombshell, rejecting his love and breaking his heart in the process.
What had he done wrong? Had he taken Lauren for granted? Had he been mistaken that she returned his feelings? He still didn’t understand how she could have walked away as if there was nothing at all between them. It hadn’t been just sex. Lauren could deny it all she liked but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, believe she felt nothing, that all they had shared had been meaningless fun. He was sure he hadn’t misjudged things that badly. What they had was special, explosive, a once-in-a-lifetime connection…a connection that had hit them both the moment they had met. He had never felt like this about anyone else. Had never hurt so much. He couldn’t sleep without Lauren in his arms, couldn’t eat, was barely getting through each day.
Even the letter from his father had failed to distract him for long, despite the searches he had done on the Internet to learn about Martinique, where his mother had come from. One day he hoped to go there, to find out more about his roots, but he couldn’t get excited about it now, could do nothing but yearn for Lauren.
With a deep sigh, he climbed out of the car, collected his medical bag, and walked to the front door, reviewing what he
knew about the woman he was going to see. Delia Rocco was only thirty-two and had suffered a serious stroke ten days ago. She had been discharged from hospital the previous day and he was doing a follow-up visit to ensure she and her husband were coping. He hadn’t wanted to leave them all weekend without support, and he needed to discuss Delia’s needs—which would include physiotherapy and necessitate him facing Lauren. His gut tightened with pain.
Delia’s husband, Neil, answered the door and invited him in, a tired smile on his face. ‘Thanks for coming, Dr Devereux.’
‘No problem. How are you both doing?’ he asked, knowing that Neil was going to need as much understanding and support as Delia. ‘Relieved to be home?’
‘Very. But it’s scary, too, not having the nurses on hand,’ the man admitted.
‘That’s understandable, but I’m sure you’ll do fine, and don’t forget you have the doctors, district nurses and physiotherapist from the surgery willing to step in whenever you need us.’
Looking reassured, Neil relaxed. ‘Thank you. Well, I expect you want to see Delia first?’
‘Yes, please. Then we can have a chat.’
Talking with and examining Delia revealed that she had been left with weakness and reduced movement down one side of her body and her speech was slurred. Given the severity of her stroke, she had done well to make so much improvement so quickly, although she had a long haul ahead of her. She was brave but clearly bewildered at having been struck down at such a young age, scared about what the future would hold for her. Gabriel determined to do the best he could for the couple to ensure they had something positive to look forward to.
‘I’m just so grateful Delia is still here and recovering,’ Neil said a while later, holding his wife’s good hand. ‘Life
without her would be intolerable. She tried to send me away,
of course, but I wasn’t having any of it.’
Puzzled, Gabriel frowned. ‘Sorry? Send you away?’
‘I was so scared, so confused. I got it into my head that Neil would be better off without me, that I would be a burden to him and prevent him having a normal, happy life,’ Delia explained, taking time to try to enunciate each word.
‘She said she didn’t love me any more, that she didn’t want me,’ Neil confirmed with a rueful smile. ‘I almost believed her at first, I was under so much stress and so worried about her, but thankfully I saw through what she was doing.’
With a start, Gabriel sat back, his thoughts on Lauren. Frowning, he thought over the sudden way she had ended things with him. Was there more behind it than he was seeing? Unsettled, he began packing his things away and returned his attention to Delia and Neil.
‘I’ll see you again next week. But call any time if there is anything you need,’ he advised them. ‘Our physiotherapist, Lauren Nightingale, will come to see you on a regular basis and work out an exercise and therapy schedule with you.’
‘Thanks. How is Lauren?’ Neil asked.
Pain lanced through his heart. ‘Fine, as far as I know. She’s an excellent physio, so you’ll be in good hands.’
‘Oh, I know that,’ Delia confirmed with a lopsided smile. ‘I was a couple of years ahead of her at school. She was always very caring to people.’
‘I was just concerned because I saw her at St Piran Hospital last week when I was waiting for Delia. Lauren didn’t see me, but she looked upset,’ Neil clarified.
Lauren had been at the hospital? Upset? Every part of him went on high alert. ‘When was this?’ he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
‘Last Friday afternoon. They’d taken Delia down for some
eye tests,’ he added, clearly unaware of the turmoil Gabriel was experiencing.
Dieu!
Why hadn’t he considered it before? He thought of the timing. Lauren had been to the hospital and that same night she had broken up with him. What on earth had she found out? Fear gripped him. Had Lauren reacted to the shock as Delia had, pushing away those close to her because she felt she would be a burden? He had to know, had to find out.
Taking his leave of the Roccos with as much speed as was polite, he rushed back to the surgery where Oliver was taking the Saturday morning clinic. Hippocratic oath or no Hippocratic oath, he was going to get some information from his friend.
‘Is Oliver still with patients?’ he asked Sue when he arrived back at the surgery and handed over his tray of patient notes.
‘No, the last one left about five minutes ago,’ she confirmed. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Mmm? Oh, fine. I need to see Oliver.’
Leaving a surprised Sue behind him, he hurried to his friend’s consulting room. The door was closed, so he knocked and waited impatiently, just in case Sue was wrong. Despite his urgency, he wouldn’t embarrass or upset a patient.
‘Come in.’
Oliver was alone, he discovered, writing up his notes. He swung his chair round, a wary expression on his face as Gabriel closed the door and crossed to the desk.
‘I know you can’t break a confidence, Oliver, but I want to know what’s going on with Lauren,’ he began, pacing out his frustration. ‘I love her, I want to marry her. When she broke things off, it nearly killed me. Someone told me they saw Lauren at the eye clinic last week. That same day she told me it was over. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence.’ He paused, considering how much to tell Oliver. ‘It’s taken a
while to get my head together but I think she has some mis
placed idea she’s going to be a burden and has to let me go.’
‘Gabriel—’
‘I
know
,’ he cut in with irritation, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, feeling the tightness of the tension gripping his muscles. ‘I know you can’t tell me outright. But you can give me a clue.’
Oliver regarded him for a few moments in silence. ‘For what it’s worth, I’ve tried several times to get Lauren to confide in both you and Chloe, but I have to respect her wishes.’
‘Whatever it is, however bad, I’m not leaving her, not giving up on her. Am I on the right track? Or does she really feel nothing for me? Give me something to work on. Please.’
‘You don’t make things easy, Gabriel.’
‘How would you feel if it was Chloe?’ OK, he wasn’t playing fair, but he was desperate. ‘If Lauren thinks she’s doing this for my benefit, she’s wrong. If she cares about me, she’ll thank you in the long run.’
Oliver closed his eyes and sighed, running his fingers through his over-long hair. ‘I can’t give you any details, but you’re right, Lauren’s pushing everyone away because she thinks it’s the right thing to do.’
Sitting down because his legs felt too shaky to hold him up, Gabriel met Oliver’s troubled dark gaze. ‘She’s not dying? It’s not a tumour?’ He forced the words out, the relief indescribable when his friend shook his head. Sucking in a steadying breath, he pressed a hand over his sternum as he acknowledged how frightened he had been. ‘OK. It doesn’t matter what it is, I want to be there for her. I just wish she had told me so she hadn’t had to face all this alone.’
‘She wasn’t alone,’ Oliver admitted after a moment.
Gabriel glanced up, a mix of emotions rushing through him—disappointment and annoyance at being shut out, but gratitude to Oliver for being such a good friend. ‘You went with her?’
‘Yes. I thought it was the lesser evil. Lauren refused to tell you or Chloe and I knew none of us would want her to go on her own.’
‘Thank you for being there for her. Now, it’s time I found her and discussed a few things,’ he finished, rising to his feet.