Mail-order Bridegroom Part 82

CHAPTER TEN.

she was gone.

He couldn't believe it. No, that wasn't true. He believed it; he just

didn't want to.

The pain was terrifying. The hollowness he felt went almost beyond bearing.

-And even telling himself that he'd expected it didn't help at all.

Because, no matter how much he'd got the feeling since she'd come back from

East Hampton that he was losing her, he'd told himself she wouldn't really go.

And when he'd come into Sophia's hospital room and had seen Kate sitting in

the chair, holding the baby in her arms, he'd felt they might really have achance. She'd looked so beautiful, so content.And when Eleni had taken the baby from her, she'd seemed bereft.And he'd imagined giving her a child of her own. Their own. A child who would cement the bonds that had begun to form between them, a child who wouldgive them an excuse for prolonging their marriage, for making it a foreverproposition.

Even when he'd looked at Eleni holding his nephew, in his mind's eye he'dstill seen Kate, had envisaged her cuddling their own child like that, thenlooking up at him as if he'd made her universe complete.

And then she was gone.No warning. No discussion. Nothing but a terse little note.I think we've done this long enough. I can't lie any longer. Regards, Kate.

Regards. Regards} As if they were no more than acquaintances, fleeting ones at that.

Maybe we are, Damon thought wearily. She'd been gone a week. He hadn't heard a word. She didn't love him. That was obvious. He had been enough for her in bed, taking the place of dear departed Bryce while the lights were low. But in the long run he'd never had a chance. When she'd seen the baby, when she'd realised what she was missing, the physical relationship she'd had with Damon had paled.

She hadn't been able to lie about what she really wanted. And a family with Damon wasn't it.

He poured himself another drink--one of the many too many he'd had since she'd left. Then he flung himself down on the sofa and stared through blurred eyes at the ceiling.

In his hand he held a small calendar he'd found in the drawer of the bedside table. Kate's calendar. With the days marked off one by one since the day she'd married him.

How long would she have kept marking? The question was rhetorical. He knew the answer without asking--until at last she was free of him.

His throat ached and tightened; his head throbbed.

He was supposed to go to a meeting at three with Belliard. The old man had flown down from Montreal to finalise the deal. Damon didn't care. He should have been at the office hours ago. He'd never missed a day in sixteen years.

Until now.

Now he'd missed a week. Four days, really, but even when he'd gone to work, he hadn't been there.

"What's the matter with you?" Arete had demanded more times than he could count.

"You aren't listening to a thing I've said."

"What do you mean, you don't know where the Belliard file is," Stephanos asked him.

"You're the one who had it."

"Damon, are you sick?"

"Damon, is there something wrong with Kate?"

"Damon, you can't go on like this."

It had taken four days and considerable hara.s.sment from Stephanos and Sophia for him to even admit what was wrong.

"What do you mean, she's left you?" Sophia demanded, horrified."What did you do to her, Damon?"Damon couldn't answer that. He'd simply sat in their parlour, staring at the scotch in his hands and shaken his head.Sophia quickly changed her tack."She'll be back," she prophesied."She's probably just having some post- honeymoon jitters.""Post-honeymoon jitters? Never heard of them." Stephanos had said.Sophia shot him a hard glare."Not surprising.""No," Damon had said in a low voice. He drained the scotch and heaved himself to his feet."It's not that."He headed towards the door."Damon?" Sophia's voice stopped him."Is there anything we can do?"He shook his head."I did it all myself."Kate had known it would be difficult. She hadn't expected to get over him just like that. But they hadn't been married very long. They hadn't even

married for love. Surely those circ.u.mstances should dull the pain a bit?The day she left Damon, she left the city, too. She didn't imagine he'd comeafter her, but if he had, she didn't know if she'd have had the strength tosay no to him. So she fled, took herself off to New England.

Cape Cod in January seemed an appropriate place to go. A place as cold andbleak as her heart. Deserted, windswept miles of bare sand beach and chillyAtlantic surf were supposed to make her forget.

They reminded her of the Bahamas instead.

They reminded her of days in the sun, days of warmth, days in Damon's arms.

She lasted a week. Barely. Then she went home.

Only that didn't work either because her apartment, she discovered very

quickly, wasn't home any more. Home was where Damon was.

As soon as she'd unpacked her bags, bought herself some groceries and spent a

sleepless night remembering what it was like to share a bed with the man she loved, she took herself off to work.

Work had saved her from the pain of Bryce's defection and death.

It didn't save her from her love of Damon.

For three days she buried herself in interviews, home checks, the business of

matchmaking families and nannies to help them. Nothing on earth helped her.

"You really ought to get some rest," Greta, her office helper, told her late Thursday afternoon.

"That was supposed to be a vacation you took, but you look worse now than

when you left."

"I have a cold," Kate lied.

"Then you should go home and drink orange juice and go to bed."

But Kate shook her head.

"I have work to do."

Greta reached over and plucked the file out of her hand.

"Then you'd better let me help you. You're putting the Barlowes under the

Ms."

She didn't fall apart while Greta was there. She waited until Greta caught the bus at five o'clock, then

she stopped trying to pretend. Her occasionalsniffles turned into honest sobs. She felt her heart rend.There was a knock on the door.

Kate wiped her eyes, blew her nose, cleared her throat.

"We're closed. Come back tomorrow," she said and her voice wobbled precariously.

"Kate? Is that you? Open up!"

She bolted up, wiping at her eyes even more furiously, hesitating, wonderingif she should deny it, then going to the door."Stephanos?"She opened it, still unsure. But, yes, it was. He looked frantic."Thank G.o.d!" He strode in, grabbing her by the arm."What's wrong? Is something wrong with Sophia? With the baby? Didn't Mrs Partridge ?""Sophia's fine. The baby's fine. Mrs Partridge is a blessed saint.""Then what?"He glowered at her."It's Damon."Kate's heart lurched."Damon? What's wrong with Damon?""You tell me." Stephanos dropped his hold on her arm, but he didn't stop looking at her.She shook her head, perplexed."He doesn't eat. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't shave. He doesn't work.Imagine, if you can, Damon not working! He does, however, drink. He drinks too d.a.m.ned much! And he looks like h.e.l.l. And why? Because you left him,that's why! ""I Kate faltered, stunned."Why, Kate? Why did you leave him?"

She wet suddenly parched lips.

"Damon knows," she said tonelessly after a moment. She looked away out the window into the darkness, unable to face her brother-in-law.

"That's what he said," Stephanos admitted."But it doesn't make sense. You love each other!"Kate didn't say anything. She couldn't deny it--not the part about her loving him.And the other part? Wishful thinking, she told herself."You know, Kate," Stephanos said carefully, 'marriages are tricky.They aren't long, smooth runs to perfect bliss. Seeing the hash I was about to make of mine should have showed you that. But you two had somethingreal--the same as Sophia and I did. ""We didn't!" Kate protested.Stephanos just looked at her."Then why were you crying?" He nodded at the tissue still wadded in her hand."Why is Damon drinking himself sick?" He gave her a gentle smile."Take another look, Kate.Risk it. Go home. It worked for me. "

It wasn't the same.

She hadn't been playing around. And, despite what he'd said about fidelity during their brief marriage, she doubted that Damon would have cared if she had been.

At least that was what she tried to tell herself after Stephanos left her inthe quiet of her office.

It didn't work.

Damon had proposed fidelity. He would have cared. He'd been honest about that.

But he'd never said he loved her.

And she'd never said she loved him.

She could--and did--argue both sides of the issue back and forth. And when

she finished, she was no closer to resolution that when she'd begun.

She needed to talk to Damon to do that.

Could she?

Did she dare?