A Perfect Homecoming

“I know this has been a stressful day, but everything’s fine now.” He stepped closer, touched her shoulder to comfort her as he would his sisters. That was what he’d always considered Paula—whether or not he was married to her sister or she was married to his brother. “Just close your eyes for a few minutes and breathe.”

“Yes, Doctor.” She giggled, did as she was told, but then opened one eye to a squint. “That’s not the first time today I’ve been told to do that. Maybe you and Ashleigh have more in common than you think.” She shut her eye again and leaned back as if cutting off any retort he might have.

“Maybe.” They just weren’t the things that allowed them to be in the same room together without friction.

Paula may have taken his side in the divorce, but he was acutely aware that she’d never given up hope that he and Ashleigh would reunite.

He turned to leave but not before her lips turned up slightly in amusement.

Kyle didn’t know what else to say, so he went directly to the kitchen. No sign of Ashleigh or her tea. He opened the fridge to discover three casseroles, as well as a salad.

He removed the food and set it on the counter for a better look. Lasagna, chicken enchiladas and some kind of mystery pasta casserole labeled with cooking directions. Not caring which they ate, he decided to leave it up to Paula. He strode out of the kitchen and turned right to go down the hall, nearly knocking Ashleigh down in the process. Instinctively, he grabbed her upper arms to keep her from falling.

“Sorry.” They both spoke at the same time.

Kyle hadn’t been this close to Ashleigh in years. He hadn’t touched her bare arms, inhaled her distinctive scent or seen those blue eyes up close in so long. Their azure color always reminded him of the island paradise where they’d honeymooned.

As brand-new doctors, they couldn’t afford an expensive vacation. At the time, he had just been hired by the Grand Oaks Community Hospital as an E.R. doctor and Ashleigh’s dream of becoming a partner in her father’s pediatric practice was about to come to fruition.

Both had agreed they wouldn’t spend money they didn’t have. So when they discovered their siblings had pooled their money to give them a honeymoon as a wedding present, they were ecstatic.

The trip had been idyllic. No work, no worries, only each other. Swimming and snorkeling during the day, dinner alfresco on their private balcony in the evening and making love whenever the mood struck.

If only they had been able to avoid the devastation and heartbreak that followed.

“Kyle?” Ashleigh’s whisper interrupted his reverie. He immediately released her, dropping his hands to his sides as if burned.

“Sorry.” He stepped back and searched for something more to say. He rubbed his palms against the outside of his thighs to erase the tactile memory of her. “I was going to ask Paula which casserole she’d like for dinner. Maybe you should see if there’s one you prefer.”

Ashleigh replied by bobbing her head as she walked past him into the kitchen.

Fool! How could he have allowed her to see him so vulnerable?

He strode to Paula’s room and rapped louder than he should have on the doorjamb.

Paula’s head jerked in his direction. “Is everything okay?” She set aside the magazine she’d been flipping through.

“Yes.” He paused. “No.” Another pause. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ah.” Paula’s eyebrows rose. “Ashleigh strikes again.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” He racked his brain to remember the choices for dinner and finally recited the list. “Do you have a preference?”

“Enchiladas sound good.” She patted her abdomen and referred to her baby. “Bam-Bam likes spicy food. Too bad I can’t have a margarita with it, but Jean said she made some corn bread. I think it’s in a pan on the counter and there should be a salad in the fridge, too.”

“Sounds good.”

Kyle returned to the kitchen where Ashleigh was turning on the oven.

“I was just preheating to three-fifty,” she said. “I didn’t know which one we were cooking.”

He took the enchilada casserole from the counter and put it into the oven, setting a timer according to the written instructions. He found the corn bread and pulled out the salad. A noise behind him was a reminder that Ashleigh was still in the kitchen.

She’d gotten out plates, silverware and napkins, butter for the corn bread and dressing for the salad. Now she sat at the table, hands folded.

“Kyle?” Her tone was soft.

He gave her his attention, saying nothing.

“At the hospital today,” she began, visibly swallowing. “I heard some talk about a lawsuit. Are you in trouble?”

His jaw clenched so tight he was in danger of cracking a tooth. “I’d rather not discuss it.” He turned his back to her.

* * *

ASHLEIGH KNEW WHAT that meant. He didn’t want to discuss the lawsuit with her.

After a moment of staring at his back in disbelief, she straightened her spine and rose slowly. She carefully pushed her chair in and left the kitchen, gathering every ounce of self-respect she could muster. She needed a moment alone to pull herself together—just one moment.

She headed to the powder room located off the living room. She entered, closed the door and leaned her forehead against the natural finish of the oak door. Slow, deep breaths finally calmed her.

What kind of trouble was Kyle in? Was it bad?

Maybe she could help him. She didn’t know how, but he could have at least told her what was going on. They’d been married for three years, together since high school. Fifteen years total. Didn’t that count for something?

They’d been through so much together.

Hadn’t she been the one he’d come to when he didn’t get accepted into his first choice of college? And she’d gone directly to him when her father was diagnosed with prostate cancer the spring of their sophomore year in college.

He’d dropped everything, including studying for a major exam, to come to her when she’d called in tears. He’d held her through the night, breaking the dorm curfew rules and not caring when her roommate came in. She’d woken in his arms, both of them fully clothed, and she’d realized for the first time how much he truly meant it when he told her he loved her.

When had they stopped coming to each other? Had it been after the miscarriages? Or had it begun before that?

They’d led busy lives as physicians, but they always made time to catch up with each other—an occasional lunch, a late-night glass of wine in bed.

Kyle couldn’t have been more supportive during her first miscarriage. By the third, he’d made several contacts around the world with infertility experts.

At the same time, Ashleigh couldn’t handle the pressure. She was failing to produce a child and didn’t know how to deal with it. Kyle had always been the one she turned to, but now he spent all of his free time looking for answers.

Ashleigh washed her hands, taking extra time to run her wrists under the cool water. She dried off and braced herself to face whatever came next. Then she slipped out of the bathroom and went directly to her briefcase near the front door.

She took refuge in the living room, using the Mission oak coffee table to spread out her files.

From the sounds of it, Kyle was upstairs—likely helping the boys move some of Ryan’s things into Mark’s room. Several minutes later, Mark came down to retrieve Ashleigh’s suitcase, insisting he could get it upstairs himself.

“Ugh,” Mark grunted. Her suitcase probably weighed as much as he did.

Ashleigh grimaced as her luggage hit the wall halfway up the stairs.