Page 47 of Winning Back His Wife
“Anything else you want to tell me?” Sarah tried to sound lighthearted. She wasn’t sure she succeeded.
“There’s nothing left to tell.” His gaze raked over her. “Besides, you’re tired.”
Her chest tightened. She was losing him. He was retreating behind the doctor persona. But she wanted dearly to hang on to the moment. “I’m okay.”
He pulled his hand away.
A deep ache welled within her soul. She missed his warmth. She missed...him.
“Your eyelids look heavy,” he said in that professional tone of his she was beginning to hate. “It’s past time for your medicine.”
Despite herself, she stifled a yawn. Now that he mentioned it, her long day was catching up to her. But she hated to let things end this way. “I can stay up a little while longer. I’m feeling okay.”
His eyes softened, not quite the look a physician gave a patient, but not one a loving husband gave to his wife. Soon to be ex-wife. “The goal is to have you feeling better than okay.”
Once she was better, she could return to Bellingham—except right now going back didn’t appeal to her as much as it once had. Not when she wanted to recapture the closeness they’d just shared.
Every nerve ending screeched.
What was she thinking? Bellingham was where she belonged. She couldn’t allow this moment—this one conversation—to change anything. That would be stupid.
Risking her heart again because he’d opened up for a glimmer of what could have been would only hurt her in the end. Sarah had to stay focused on what was best for her. That was getting back to work—the one thing that wouldn’t let her down.
She stood. “You’re right. I’m more tired than I realized. I’m going to bed.”
* * *
In the kitchen, Cullen washed his hands, then filled a glass with water. He stretched his neck to each side, but couldn’t quite unknot all his tight muscles.
His talk with Sarah hadn’t gone as he’d expected. He’d wanted to know what she thought of his friends and the brewpub. He’d never planned on talking about Blaine. No one outside his family and close friends back home knew the truth, but Cullen had been compelled to tell her. He needed to rectify the mistake he’d made by not saying anything about Blaine before. She’d needed to understand that what had happened at Easter wasn’t her fault.
He tore a paper towel off the roll, then dispensed her medications.
I’ve never felt so inadequate in my life.
The pain in those eight words, the tears gleaming in her eyes, had been like daggers to his heart. Cullen hadn’t wanted her to cry. She’d been hurt enough.
Because of him.
He’d wanted only to appease his family, particularly his mother, after missing the Easter before. Thanksgiving and Christmas, too. He hadn’t considered Sarah’s feelings during that trip home. He hadn’t considered her much at all when they were together.
Expressing too much emotion equaled loss of self-control, especially around Sarah, who had a way of tearing down his walls. But his silence—not talking and warning her how hard Easter was for his family—had set her up for failure.
He couldn’t undo the past, but he wanted to make it up to her somehow. Sarah had difficulty using her laptop and working for more than a few minutes. An idea formed...a way to help her do her job from the cabin. He could take care of that tomorrow.
Cullen walked to her bedroom. He knocked on the closed door, careful not to spill any water. He didn’t want Sarah to slip the next time she exited her room.
No answer.
He tried again.
Nothing.
A frisson of worry shot to the surface. He opened the door. “Sarah?”
She was lying on her back in the center of the queen-size bed, sound asleep. Her dark hair was spread across the pillowcase. She’d taken off her jacket and removed her boots, but she was still wearing her jeans and red henley shirt.
I’m a little tired.
A little? Try a lot. Their discussion in the living room hadn’t helped matters.
“Sarah.” Cullen placed the water glass and medicine on the nightstand. He gently touched her left arm. “Wake up. You need to take your medicine.”
Her heavy eyelids cracked. “Must I?”
“You must.”
With some effort, she sat. “I thought you were a good doctor.”
“I’m a very good doctor, which is why you have to do this.”
“I was sleeping fine without them.”
“We want you to wake up feeling fine in the morning.”
She blinked. “We? There hasn’t been a we for a while.”
“That’s true.” Cullen regretted contributing so much to that happening. “But we’re here together now, and we both want you to recover.”
