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“This does concern my health.” Lena rubbed her belly through the white paper gown. “The play-offs are causing me stress. Stress isn’t good for the baby. Evans needs to keep his mind on the game. He doesn’t need the distraction of an unhappy home.”
Marilyn’s cheeks heated. Had everyone lost their minds? When had her home life become an acceptable topic of public discourse? “Lena, I like you—”
Lena’s expression softened into a smile. “I like you, too, Doc.”
Marilyn shook her head at the woman’s antics. “I’m not going to discuss my personal life with you.” It was incredible that she was even having this conversation. Where was the hidden camera?
Lena’s big brown eyes widened. “Why not? Every time I come here, your nurse takes my height and weight, and asks me if I’m sexually active.” She gestured toward her belly with a comical expression. “All I want to know is if you and Evans are getting back together. You don’t have to tell me what he’s like in bed—unless you want to.”
Marilyn blinked. She must be the last sane person on earth. “I have no intention of discussing my sex life with you. My private life is private. It doesn’t have anything to do with the way my husband performs on the court.”
Lena stopped rubbing her belly. “Why else did he play like garbage the first game of the Miami Waves series?”
Marilyn stood. “That was Thursday. The Monarchs won game two Saturday. How do you explain that?”
She froze. The team had won Saturday night. But when she’d seen Warrick Sunday, she hadn’t even congratulated him. Instead she’d yelled at him for coming home. Marilyn’s heart was heavy. When had things between them become so crazy? And why?
Lena smiled. “You must be getting back together.”
“That’s it, Lena. We’re not having this conversation.” Marilyn offered Lena her hand to help her sit up. “I’m his wife, not his coach. It’s not my responsibility to explain his performance.”
Lena held on to Marilyn. “Well, if you’re so concerned with my health, you’ll straighten up your marriage, Doc. Otherwise, I’ll have a heart attack, and that won’t be good for the baby.”
Marilyn pinched the bridge of her nose. No one listened to her so why did she bother to say anything? The next time someone asked about her marriage, she’d just recite the stages of fetal gestation.
She released Lena’s hand. “Take care of yourself, Lena. I’ll see you in two weeks.”
Marilyn pulled the examination room door closed to give Lena privacy to get dressed. She then strode down the hall, past the nurses’ station to the desk she used during her shift. She lifted her backpack onto its surface.
“Where’s Rick living these days?” Emma’s voice directly behind her startled Marilyn.
She spun around, pressing her hand against her chest. “Why are you sneaking up on people?”
Emma wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. So where is he?”
Marilyn dropped her hand and took a calming breath. “He’s home.” She turned back to her desk.
“With you?” Emma sounded incredulous. She came around to search Marilyn’s face. “He said he was moving out.”
Marilyn’s tense features eased into a wry smile as she relived Warrick’s homecoming. “He never actually said that. All he said was that I could move back in.”
Emma dropped into the stiff green chair beside the desk. “He lied to you.”
“No, he didn’t.” Why did she feel defensive?
Emma rolled her eyes. “Lying by omission is still lying. But it doesn’t matter. You can move back in with me.”
Marilyn settled in to the brown desk chair. “No, but thanks. The house is big enough for Rick and me to live together while we figure out what to do.” Warrick was right about that.
Emma’s eyes widened. “You’re going to stay there with him? Suppose he puts the moves on you?”
Marilyn frowned at Emma’s question. “He’s my husband. Besides, Rick’s a gentleman and I’m an adult. He won’t do anything that I don’t want him to do.”
Emma’s lips thinned. “And what do you want him to do?”
Marilyn deliberately misunderstood her friend’s question. “I want him to help me figure out what we should do.”
“You know what he’s going to say.”
