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He’d covered the table with a white cloth and set it with skills his mother had taught him at a young age. He’d picked up chicken breasts and thrown them on the grill about twenty minutes ago, letting them cook slowly. Vegetables steamed in the kitchen and were almost ready to be served. He’d even gotten a bottle of non-alcoholic cider champagne and had it chilling on the table.
It looked like a seduction scene. Not that that’s what he was going for. He wanted to romance Melissa, not seduce her.
He patted his pocket, feeling the outline of the square jeweler’s box. Tonight was all about romance. Now the one being romanced just had to do her part and come home.
On cue, the phone rang.
James glanced at his watch. Five minutes till six.
Denial punched him in the stomach, causing acid to bubble up his throat. No, she wouldn’t, he thought, entering the house and seeing her name on the caller ID.
He couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone, as if not answering would somehow prevent her from canceling on their plans. She’d looked sincere that morning when she’d agreed to be home by six.
The answering machine came on. Melissa’s voice filled the room.
“James, I’m not going to make it home until later tonight. An emergency’s come up with a patient. I’m sorry. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
Damn. She’d done it to him again.
How many times did it have to happen for him to know that he wasn’t important to her?
Not that he believed she didn’t care, but she didn’t care enough. Not to where she could ever put his needs first.
Was this what their child would face time and again? Mommy not showing up for ball games and ballet recitals because a patient needed her?
Resolute, James walked back onto the deck and began blowing out candles. The box in his pocket burned through his slacks, scorching his skin, mocking him.
No more. He couldn’t take this and Melissa was so caught up in her career that she didn’t see what was happening. He dug into his pocket, fished out the box, and dropped it onto her place setting. Let her see what she’d lost when she came home to an empty house.
He was through playing second fiddle.
With that, he grabbed a few garbage sacks from the kitchen, walked into their bedroom, and began emptying his clothes drawers.
Perhaps it was too late for them to salvage their relationship other than to share custody of their baby. But maybe he could jolt her into waking up to reality before she tossed their child’s needs aside, the way she continuously did his.
CHAPTER FOUR
“SO, HOW did last night go?” Debbie asked with a sly grin when she walked into Melissa’s office the next morning. Without waiting for an answer, she dropped the charts she carried onto the corner of Melissa’s desk. “You sure don’t look like you got any sleep.”
Melissa opened her mouth but nothing came out.
Eyes narrowing, Debbie looked at her more closely. “Actually, you look like you cried all night.”
There would be a reason for that.
When she didn’t answer, Debbie placed her hand on Melissa’s shoulder.
Biting her lower lip, Melissa fought tears she’d have sworn she’d exhausted during the long hours of the night. She couldn’t cry. Not now. She was at the office.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Debbie squeezed her shoulder. “What did he say?”
Melissa stifled her pain. What was she doing? Self-pity wouldn’t accomplish a thing. She’d learned that early on in the foster-care system. She sucked in a deep breath and pasted on what she hoped was a plausible smile.
“He was gone when I got home. No big deal.”
“No big deal?” Her friend looked confused. “Hello? Are we in denial or what? We’re talking about the man you love that you were going to fight to keep.”
“I was going to fight for him, but apparently he knows what he wants, and it’s not me.” She kept a tight leash on the pain ricocheting through her. “I’d never force James into anything he doesn’t want.”
