Page 113

And this is all going to be over come Sunday night.

There’s no way she’ll ever let me touch her again, because I can’t tell her the truth.

On Thursday, Meredith is barely speaking to me after our rendezvous in my office, and she leaves for lunch without telling me.

It doesn’t bother me, exactly, but as office manager, I should know her comings and goings.

Or maybe I’m just worried.

What if she’s pissed off at me and meets some guy? What if it’s Paul, for God’s sake? I knew I should have fired him when I had the chance.

When she’s not back by two p.m., I start to panic a little.

I walk as slowly and nonchalantly to Dina’s office as I can.

She’s taken over Rita’s position since she retired when the owner left, and she’s got the third biggest office next to mine and Meredith’s.

She smiles as I walk through the open door. “What’s up, boss?”

“Was wondering if Meredith went home early. She hasn’t come back from lunch.”

Dina frowns. “I had lunch with her two hours ago. She was going to run home to shower.”

“Shit,” I say at exactly the same time Dina says it, and her eyes shoot to mine. “You go to her apartment. I’ll make some calls.”

In the end, I don’t have to make any calls because my cell phone starts to ring in my pocket before I leave Dina’s office.

The number is unknown.

“Hello?” I bark into the phone.

“Mr. Matthews? Your… wife came in today, apparently fainted on the street. You’re listed as her emergency contact.”

The blood drains from my face. “Meredith? What? Is she okay?”

“She’s at All Saints hospital, that’s all I can tell you.”

My heart races as I hang up the phone.

“All Saints,” is all I manage to say to Dina before rushing out of the office building.

Meredith’s in the hospital, and I’ve been sitting around imagining killing any man who dared to talk to her while she was out. Stupid, jealous idiot.

I break all manner of speeding laws getting to the hospital and, after parking, I run into the building.

Of course, it would be the biggest hospital in town and after several increasingly frustrating conversations, I figure out she’s in the labor and delivery ward.

By the time I make it up there, I’m irritated and breathing hard from all the power walking I’ve been doing just trying to get to her.

“Meredith Whitlock.” I pause as the nurse startles at the bass in my voice. “I’m her husband.”

The nurse nods. “Room four-oh-eight. She’s resting. The doctor will be in soon.”

The room is just a few feet down the hall and finally my heart seems to settle when I see Meredith sitting up in bed, her eyes closed, bags under them.

She looks so pale she’s almost gray, but she’s alive.

I walk up to her and brush the hair back from her forehead, and her beautiful eyes flutter open.