Forget Me Not (Escape Contemporary Romance) (2 page)

This is where Stefan had spent the last week.

Turning his chair so it faced her, Stefan sat back down and rested his arms on his thighs, staring anxiously at his intertwined fingers. ‘There are lots of things I want to ask you. How long have we been married?’

‘Seven years, but we were seeing each other for three years before that.’

He lifted his gaze. ‘So we were living together before we got married?’

‘No, just going out.’

Before they married, Claire hadn’t wanted to move in with him. At the end that became just one more thing he held against her, but she’d had her reasons. Then, after the arguments started, Stefan had said she’d tricked him into an early marriage by refusing to move in with him.

As if anyone could pull one over Stefan Porter. As if anyone could force the man to do anything he didn’t want to do.

But Claire didn’t need to think about that right now.

His brow furrowed. ‘The doctor told me I’m thirty-four, so we got married when we were twenty-seven.’

‘No, y
ou
were twenty-seven. I’m two years younger.’

‘That’s a long time together. And we don’t have any kids?’

‘No.’

‘It’s just as well, because I wouldn’t be any good to anyone as a father right now. I can’t even take care of myself.’

Claire forced a smile to her lips, hoping he wouldn’t see through her. ‘Yes, just as well.’

She reminded herself that if this was hard for her, it was harder for him. She had so much going for her: her health, a satisfying job, enough money to get by, a family who loved her and friends who cared. There was nothing to complain about, nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

Well, there was one thing but she’d moved on from that.

Stefan wouldn’t know his oldest friends if they walked through the door, wouldn’t even recognise his own parents. What must that be like for him?

All those years at university, all the time he’d spent reading books and journals, what had happened to it all? Was it gone? There were thousands—no, millions—of little things that Claire, that everyone, took for granted. Stefan would have to learn them all over again.

‘We live here, in Sydney. At Elizabeth Bay.’ Part way between a statement and a question, Stefan sounded like he was repeating something the doctors had told him.

‘Yes,’ Claire said. ‘It’s a lovely inner-city suburb. We’re both there.’

‘Both there?’

‘I’m in our old apartment. You took a smaller place.’

His eyebrows went up in the middle, finally showing some expression. ‘Why did I do that?’

‘Didn’t the doctors tell you?’

‘Tell me what?’

Claire couldn’t believe this was happening. She assumed they’d explained the situation This wasn’t some unimportant snippet of information but a highly significant fact, and she’d been very clear about that over the phone with Doctor Patroni. There must be procedures for this kind of thing, formal communication channels, especially in a place like this. Surely the hospital staff they couldn’t have forgotten to mention it to him.

But by the blankness of his expression, Claire could see they had.

She folded her hands into her lap, wishing her shoulders weren’t so tense. ‘We’re separated.’

‘Separated? But they told me we were married.’

‘We are. Technically, I’m still your wife, but we don’t live together and haven’t done for the last six months. I’m sorry, Stefan, I thought you knew.’

His expression turned puzzled, and no wonder. Stefan didn’t know who he was and the one solid fact he’d known had about his life was being ripped out from under him.

He needed someone to fill him in on the missing years, someone to help him get set up for this new life and take care of him. If she wasn’t his wife any more, where did that leave him?

‘Why did you come here if we’re not still married?’ His head tilted with the question, but there was no accusation in his voice.

He was as sharp as always. He’d always been a quick thinker, never missing a beat. Claire had a sharp mind too, although in the past he’d said she was too emotional, accused her of not thinking things through properly. But it wasn’t a crime to have a heart.

‘I’m here because you need me,’ she said. ‘Because someone has to take care of you. I couldn’t abandon you.’

Stefan looked her in the eye. ‘You could have said ‘no’.’

‘No, I couldn’t have. I’d never do that.’

His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned back into his chair, his knees apart. Though his eyes still seemed empty, the furrow had disappeared from his brow, lips curling with the hint of a smile.

That smile reminded her of the good times they’d had, the simple things which she missed the most—the way Stefan had laughed at her jokes, even when they weren’t very funny; the way he’d hugged Claire when she was feeling down; and, the way he’d surprise her with a kiss when she least expected it.

She wasn’t about to walk past him now, pretend this wasn’t her problem. No way.

Stefan nodded thoughtfully, his eyes lingering on her. ‘You seem like a nice person.’

His gaze turned earnest, much like when he examined a legal brief or was negotiating with clients. He had an excellent pokerface, yet Claire knew that behind the mask Stefan’s mind was constantly ticking over, reading and interpreting people and weighing the ramifications of his decisions.

The situation struck Claire as so ridiculous that she burst into laughter. This man had the sharpest mind of anyone she knew, a man who had challenged her intellectually like no other. ‘What’s so funny?’ Stefan asked.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’

Claire calmed herself. ‘We were married for a long time, we knew each other so well. It seems odd for you to talk to me that way. It’s such a strange position to be in.’

He rolled his eyes, the action so much like the old Stefan. ‘Tell me about it.’

‘I know it’s not fair on you,’ Claire said. ‘I have my memories, yet you know nothing about me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Ask away.’

A few moments passed. ‘We were together for how long, ten years? What happened? What went wrong? We must have been happy once, must have loved each other.’

Neither had used the word for so long, but it was true. They’d loved each other, a love like no other: passionate, all-encompassing, enduring...or so she’d thought.

That was why Claire hurt so much now.

‘We were very happy together for a long time,’ she said. ‘We had the kind of relationship a lot of people envied, certainly the kinds of lives most people would envy.’

‘If our lives together were so wonderful, what happened?’

Claire wished she could explain it, wished that she knew the answer. If she did, it might be possible to repair the damage.

But how could she neatly summarise the grief, resentment and arguments, and present it in a nutshell? ‘Things didn’t work out,’ she said. ‘We separated, and we’ve been living in different apartments for about six months. The only reason we’re not divorced is because twelve months separation is legally required beforehand.’

‘Sounds like the lawyer in you speaking.’

‘You’re a lawyer, too.’

‘So I’ve been told. Did we work together?’

‘No, you were more ambitious than me. Nothing less than a top-tier firm was going to satisfy you. You started at Turner Chisholm at an entry-level position and worked your way up, becoming the youngest partner their firm had ever had.’

‘And you?’

‘I’m a criminal lawyer. I’ve never dabbled in the world of corporate business and big bucks. I work for Legal Aid, a free service. Not as glamorous as your position, but it suits me.’

‘I won’t be able to go back to work,’ Stefan said. ‘Not to that job, anyway. There’s no way I could function as a lawyer.’

There was no regret in his voice.

For the old Stefan, this would have been the end of the world. His career had been everything to him—the mark of a man. He’d been proud he’d worked his way up in record time, proud of his achievements and client list, and the work he brought in.

‘You don’t need to worry about that just yet,’ Claire said. ‘You should concentrate on your recovery. I’m sure stressing about your career won’t help.’

‘I’m not worried, just stating the facts. At the moment I can’t remember a single law, other than thou shalt not kill.’

‘That’s a commandment.’

Stefan nodded. ‘Actually, I knew that.’

She brightened. ‘See, you’re making progress already.’

‘Thou shalt not covet they neighbour’s wife. That’s a commandment, too. Is that what happened to us?’

‘Nothing like that. There was no one else involved.’

‘Good. I’m glad I wasn’t the kind of man to fool around.’

No, but there were plenty of other ways of being cruel, Claire thought. There was a knock at the door, probably one of the hospital staff telling them it was time for Stefan to leave.

Then they’d be alone together.

A bolt of fear shot through Claire at the thought.

The idea had been so much easier when it’d just been a thought in her head. Though taking him home was the right thing to do, that didn’t make it easy, not by a long-shot.

Claire remembered the shock she had felt when Stefan had left, the loneliness, the realization that this was it—he wasn’t coming back. Those first weeks had been the hardest, the most painful. At the time, she’d thought if she could live through that, she could live through anything.

Claire remembered telling herself that she’d endured a much greater loss, a bigger grief two years earlier and she’d survived that, too. So where did that leave her now?

Stefan was coming back.

This time was going to be even harder.

Chapter Three

They’d told Stefan he had a wife, told him her name and occupation, but Stefan hadn’t given much thought to what she’d look like.

The last week had been hell for him, dealing with test after test, doctor after doctor, endless theories. He’d felt like his head was going to explode while trying to take everything in. The endless tests and procedures were frustrating, as well as the fascination the medical staff seemed to show at his condition. Stefan felt like a one-man freak-show.

He had bigger things to think about than Claire—where was he going to live, how was he going to take care of himself, what might he do for a living? The list went on. Why would he be interested in something as superficial as his wife’s looks?

Well, apparently he
was
shallow enough to care.

What a stunner! Her honey-blond hair and brown eyes were definitely striking, but that didn’t quite cover it. There was a softness in her features and a warmth in her expression which made it seem like she truly cared. At least, it felt that way from his end.

Then there was her shapely figure, with curves in all the right places. Claire had one hell of a body.

Funny though, because he wasn’t normally a sleazy kind of guy, or at least Stefan didn’t think he was. There had been an endless stream of nurses and other female medical staff tending to him, but he hadn’t reacted this way towards any of them. No, he was certain he wasn’t some playboy type, who couldn’t wait to get his hands on any woman he met.

She was his wife, so this was probably a perfectly natural reaction. She was the first person he’d met in the last week who didn’t make him feel like a mutant.

There was a big world out there and he was lucky that this beautiful, kind woman was going to help him face it.

Deciding he’d been staring at Claire long enough, he called out, ‘Come in.’

One of the doctors walked in. God knows, he’d seen enough of them over the last week. This was the middle-aged doctor with lots of curly brown hair and a penchant for loud bow ties. Today, he’d chosen burgundy with pale blue spots. His clothes looked ruffled, like he’d slept in them. He stood with a slight stoop, though he wasn’t tall.

He reached across to shake Stefan’s hand. ‘I’m Doctor Hardy.’

‘I know.’ Stefan stood. ‘We met yesterday. I remember.’

He hoped he hadn’t sounded rude, but he
could
at least remember what happened yesterday.

‘Of course.’ The doctor turned to Claire and shook her hand. ‘You must be Mrs Porter.’

Claire slid off the bed, standing up and smiling politely. ‘Pleased to meet you, Doctor, but there’s been a misunderstanding. My name is Claire Simons, not Porter.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You are Stefan Porter’s wife, aren’t you?’

‘Technically, I still am but we’ve been separated for six months. I explained it all to Doctor Patroni yesterday on the phone.’

‘I’m afraid he’s not available. There’s been a death in his family, and he can’t be contacted.’

Claire’s mouth fell open, her lips a perfectly-formed O. Surprise washed over her features.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I confess my own problems seem rather insubstantial compared to that.’

‘Well, Doctor Patroni informed me we could release Stefan into your care,’ the doctor said.

‘I showed the nurse at reception my ID and the marriage license,’ Claire added, by way of explanation. ‘I had an old, expired passport of Stefan’s at home, so I could at least verify his ID as well. It’s all been approved.’ She reached across and reached for her bag digging something out of it, and then stopped. ‘We probably don’t need this.’

The doctor grabbed the item, though she hadn’t passed it to him. ‘A photo?’

‘I needn’t have brought it.’

Smiling, Doctor Hardy looked at the framed picture in his hand. ‘A wedding photo? How lovely. No harm in bringing it at all. Stefan might like to see this, too.’

The doctor handed him the picture, and Stefan watched Claire’s shoulders stiffen, half-expecting her to snatch the photo back. She should looked so uncomfortable—embarrassed, even—but it was obvious that if they had been married, they’d have had a wedding day. No shame in that.

She must have read his mind, politely saying, ‘Go ahead.’

Looking down, Stefan saw a picture of two young people in love. He looked the same, but in the picture he was wearing a suit instead of jeans. He thought the lines on his face looked a little harder nowadays.