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a wife. I’m sure I’ve not misled you even once.”
“That’s just it. I want something you can’t or won’t give.” She moved to stand beside the chair. “I love you and I want you to love me in return. You refuse. I won’t settle for less. I’ve seen what a loving relationship can be with my grandparents and parents. I deserve the same.
“You do as well but you’re so sure that it doesn’t exist or that you’ll be so dependent on another person for happiness that you push that happiness away. I’ve shown you love in every way I know how in the last few months. Mind, body and soul. Yet you won’t accept it. I need someone in my life who wants me for more than laughs and companionship or good sex.”
“I’ll have you know that sex between us is better than good. And I want you to have my children. You would be a wonderful mother.”
Whitney slowly shook her head, sadness overtaking her. “You just don’t get it. The sex is so great because I’m making love to you. But I still won’t bring a child into a loveless marriage. You’re so fearful that you’re going to end up acting like your mother that you can’t let anyone in. The thing is that you act more like your father. Taking the love and life you could have and throwing it back in my face.”
Tanner looked as if she’d socked him on the chin, dazed him. She had hit a nerve. A very exposed one. Whitney stepped back a pace. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
As if performing a magic trick, Tanner made a transformation. Straightening his shoulders and with all the fire leaving his eyes, he smiled tightly at her. He shoved his hands in his pockets. His demeanor became as cold as the night air coming off the San Francisco Bay in winter. “You may be right about that. But this just proves that love isn’t worth the hurt.
“Since we’re being so open here, let me tell you a few things. Not everyone wants a pie-in-the-sky, everything-is-rosy marriage. Some people just want peace in their life. A haven to come home to where people coexist, have common interests and mutual respect. Maybe some people, you included, think that a loving marriage is the goal in life. Me, I don’t know how to do that. And I’ve never said or implied that I did.
“Another thing. You can’t punish me for what people did to you in your past. You can’t live worried about what people might do and say now. You’re not the person you were when you were heavy. It’s rather vain for you to think everyone is judging you. People like your ex-fiancé disappoint others. I’m not your ex. I don’t have to love you to be supportive and stand beside you. I think I have proved that more than once.”
Whitney shrank back. He had proved his loyalty. Still, she wanted his heart.
“One more thing.” He raised a finger in the air. “Not once have I ever said I give a damn about your weight. Even when I gave you a list of what I was looking for in a mate, I didn’t once say anything about the woman being thin. All of that is in—” he pointed his finger at her “—your head.
“Don’t bother asking me to leave. I’m gone. Throw my stuff in a bag. Put it on the front stoop. Text me and I’ll come and get it. That way I won’t ever bother you again.”
Seconds later her front door closed with a shudder of the stained glass that coincided with her howl of agony.
* * *
It had been three weeks since Tanner had left Whitney’s and he still didn’t feel any better. He’d never been so blindsided in his life. Whitney’s announcement that their relationship wasn’t working had been news to him. She’d completely overreacted to what amounted to gossip. Those women didn’t matter. People talked all the time. What mattered was what was best for Whitney and him. They enjoyed the same things, were great together in bed. Wanted the same things out of life. Maybe that wasn’t exactly right. She wanted love, needed it from him. Did he even understand the emotion? Was he capable of giving it if he did?
He wanted to put his hand through a wall or shake Whitney until he shook some sense into her.
When he’d left her place he’d driven to his apartment, which he’d been thinking of selling because things between him and Whitney had been going so well. That was over. Entering the cold, sterile-looking place after staying in Whitney’s warm and inviting home made him more depressed. She’d added vitality to his life.
More times than he could count he’d been hurt by his parents’ actions but he had never felt this gnawing, snarling anger and frustration eating away at him that he had now. It affected every part of his life. Including his work. His staff was starting to give him looks and make hushed comments under their breath after he had given an order. He was trying to get a promotion and his staff was tiptoeing around him.
The nights were the worst. Especially when he did doze off and woke reaching for her on the other side of the bed. Most of the time he just paced the floor or stayed at the hospital. Eyedrops had become a staple because he never seemed to close his eyes. If he did, Whitney’s smiling face invaded his mind. Her swishing her butt as she sang to a song while cooking dinner. Whitney’s look of bliss as she found her release.
He slammed his hand down on his desk, making the pen beside it jump. This had to stop.
Punching the button on the desk phone, he ran back through the messages until he found hers, leaving him the name of the other matchmaker. It was time to move on.
The sound of Whitney’s clear voice almost dissolved his resolve. He missed her with every fiber of his being. Even his clothes smelled of her.
He’d gone by her place. A bag had sat on the stoop, just as he’d requested. When he’d got it home and opened it, the smell of her had wafted around him. He’d felt sucker punched. Inside the bag had been his clothes, neatly folded and arranged with care. She’d still been taking care of him. The smell had lingered to the point where he’d stuffed all the clothing back into the bag and taken them to the cleaners.
Tanner picked up the pen and quickly jotted the number down that Whitney had left in the message. He didn’t want to have to listen twice. With a punch of his finger he deleted the communication. That ended any temptation to hear it again.
He was tied in knots and it was time to get undone. The first step was to call this new matchmaker and start the process of finding someone who fit his requirements. Someone who didn’t see love as the main ingredient. He would make the call as soon as he saw his afternoon clinic patients. The first on the list was Mr. Wilcox. Whitney had even managed to take some of the pleasure out of seeing the older man. Why had he let her permeate his working life? He was paying for it dearly. And was afraid he’d be doing so for a long time to come.
Tanner opened the door to the small but functional examination room. Mr. Wilcox sat on the exam table with his shirt off. “Hello. How’re you feeling?” Tanner asked.
“I’m fine except for the fact that I’m freezing to death. You ask us to strip down then leave us in a cold room.”
That was one of many things he liked about Mr. Wilcox. The man said what he thought. Not unlike Whitney. “Sorry about that. Let me give you a listen then you can get dressed.”
Tanner pulled his stethoscope from around his neck. Mr. Wilcox was doing well. His heart was working as expected and so far there was no major rejection. Tanner fully believed he would live many more years. Minutes later he said, “You sound good. You can put your shirt on now.” He gave Mr. Wilcox a steady hand to hold as he climbed down from the table.
Mr. Wilcox slid an arm into a sleeve of his shirt and said, “So how’s your lady doing?”
The one subject Tanner didn’t what to talk about. His lady. Whitney had been. He’d been happy then.
“She’s fine.”
Mr. Wilcox looked up from buttoning his shirt. “That doesn’t sound so fine.”
Tanner acted as if he was writing on the chart. “It’s not. We broke up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But you know the old saying, ‘If it’s worth having it’s worth
fighting for.’ I would say that one is worth fighting for.”
“I don’t think it matters. We want two different things out of life.”
Mr. Wilcox nodded with his lips pursed as if in thought. “That so? I think I’d be changing what I want to keep her.”
Could he do that? Tell her that he loved her? Did he?
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Wilcox. Call if you need us, otherwise I’ll see you in two months.”
“Sounds good. Hey, you know love isn’t always easy but it’s always worth it.”
There was that word again. Love. That wasn’t the kind of relationship he wanted. Yet there was an ache where his heart was that was saying differently.
His fourth patient for the afternoon was a middle-aged woman who had progressively gotten sicker and sicker. He would soon have to place her on the transplant list.
Tanner plastered on a congenial smile and entered the room. “Hello, Mrs. Culpepper.”
“Hi, Dr. Locke. I’d like you to meet my husband, Henry.”
The man with graying hair at his temples stood. He and Tanner shook hands.
“Do you mind if I give you a listen, Mrs. Culpepper?” Tanner said as he removed his stethoscope.
“That’s what I’m here for.” She smiled and sat straighter on the exam table.
Tanner listened carefully to the slow and sluggish organ in her chest. Even her breathing was taking on a more labored sound. “Give me a sec. I need to have a look at your X-rays.” Tanner typed his security code into the computer and pulled up Mrs. Culpepper’s chart. With another click the picture she had just taken in the X-ray department came up on the screen. There it was, the oversize heart of the thin woman sitting before him.
He looked at Mrs. Culpepper. “I’m going to let you get dressed and have you meet me down the hall in the conference room where we can talk more comfortably. Lisa, my nurse, will be in to show you the way.”
A distressed look came over her face but she nodded and slid off the table to stand. Her husband hurried to help her.
A few minutes later Tanner entered a room furnished with a serviceable table and six chairs. His nurse assistant, Lisa, and the Culpeppers were already waiting for him. Tanner took a chair facing them. Mrs. Culpepper looked close to tears. She must fear what was coming. This was the least enjoyable part of Tanner’s job. Mr. Culpepper placed a hand on hers resting on the table. He too must sense what Tanner was planning to say.
