"A mile and a half?" His eyes went wide. "Mel!"
"I know, but it felt so good to be in the fresh air, and it was mostly downhill. But then I started to get really tired, and the way back was all uphill. I knew I wouldn't be able to make it back, so I got on a bus."
"You knew which bus to take?"
"I thought I did. Unfortunately it was the wrong bus. It took me in the opposite direction of home, and by the time I figured it out I was really far. So I got off at the next stop and got on a different bus, but that one was going the wrong direction, too. It was such a strange sensation, like I knew deep down that I should know which bus to take, but I kept picking the wrong one."
"Why didn't you ask someone for help?"
"I was too embarrassed. Besides, I felt like I needed to do it on my own."
"And they say men never ask for directions," he said, rolling his eyes, and she couldn't help but crack a smile.
"I rode around for a couple of hours," she continued, "and finally got off at the pier. I had absolutely no idea where I was. I could have been in China for all I knew. Nothing looked familiar. And I guess … I guess I just freaked out. My heart was racing and I had this tightness in my chest, like I was having a heart attack. Then my hands started going numb and I felt like I was going to pass out and that really scared me. That's when I called you."
"It sounds like you had a panic attack. I used to get the same thing when I was a kid, when I went in for my treatments."
"Treatments?" she asked.
He paused for a second, then said, "Radiation."
She frowned. "Radiation? What for?"
"Osteosarcoma," he said, then glanced over and added, "Bone cancer."
He had cancer? She'd had no idea. Well, she probably did, she just didn't remember. "I know I've probably asked you this before, but when?"
"I was twelve."
"Where was it?"
"My femur."
"How long were you-"
"Not long. Eight months, give or take. They caught it early at my annual physical. A round of radiation and chemo and I was fine."
She was pretty sure it hadn't been as simple as he made it sound. Especially if he had been having panic attacks. "Do you worry. I mean, could it … come back?"
"If it was going to come back it would have a long time ago." He glanced over at her. "If you're worried I'm going to get sick and die on you, I'm probably more likely to be hit by a bus."
"I didn't mean that. I just … I don't know what I meant. The question just popped out. I'm sorry."
He squeezed her hand. "It's okay."
She could see that it was a touchy subject and she didn't want to push it. She just hoped he didn't think that it would ever stop her from marrying him. She was in this for the long haul, until death do them part and all that. And speaking of marriage.
"I was wondering," she said. "Is there a reason you wouldn't tell people at work that we're engaged?"
His shot a glance her way. "Why do you ask?"
"Well, when I called your office, and your secretary asked who it was, I said Ash's fiancée, and she sounded really confused."
"What did she say?"
"She said, Ash's what? and I said, Ash's fiancée, Melody. I got the distinct impression that she had no idea we were engaged."
"We just haven't officially announced it," he said. "I asked right before you left on your trip, then you didn't come back … ." He shrugged.
"So you didn't say anything to anyone."
"It was the last thing on my mind."
"Well, I guess that explains the pictures and the videos."
"What about them?"
"I noticed that I wasn't wearing my engagement ring in a single one. So now I know why."
Melody looked over at him and Ash had a strange look on his face, as if he felt sick to his stomach or something.
"Is it okay that I said something to her? I mean, we have no reason not to announce it now. Right?"
"I've just been so swamped since we've been back, with everything at work, and the doctor's office. The truth is, it completely slipped my mind."
"But it is okay."
He smiled and squeezed her hand again. "Of course."
"Oh, good," she said, feeling relieved. "Since I kind of already did. To your secretary anyway. Do you think we should plan some sort of engagement party? Or at least call the wedding planner?"
"I think you shouldn't worry about it until you've had more time to heal. There's no rush. Look at what happened today when you got too stressed."
He was right. She knew he was. It was just that she felt this need to get on with her life. This deep-seated urgency to move forward.
Give it time, she told herself. Eventually you'll be yourself again.
When they got back to their building, instead of pulling into the underground lot he stopped at the front entrance.
"You have your key?" he asked.
She pulled it from her jacket pocket and jingled it in front of him. "You're not coming up?"
"I really need to get back. You're okay now, right?"
Sort of, but she wasn't exactly looking forward to being alone. But she couldn't be selfish. "I'm okay. Maybe I'll take a nap."
"I'll call you later." He leaned over and kissed her, but not on the cheek or forehead. This time he went straight for her lips. He brushed them softly with his, and she could swear her already shaky knees went a little bit weaker.
"I'll see you later." She got out and shut the door and watched him zip down the block and around the corner. Incidentally, she didn't see him later. Well, not for more than a few seconds when he roused her with a kiss and said good-night.
From the light in the hallway she could see that he was still in his suit, and he had that fresh-from-the-office smell clinging to his clothes, so she knew he had just gotten home. She peered at the clock and saw that it was after midnight.
At least tomorrow was Saturday. They could finally spend some quality time together. Maybe they could take a walk down by the water and have a picnic lunch at the park. She wondered if they had ever done that before. She drifted off to sleep making plans, and woke at eight feeling excited.
She got dressed and as she brushed her teeth she caught the distinct aroma of coffee. She had hoped to be up first, so she could surprise him with breakfast in bed. Looked as though he didn't sleep in on the weekends.
She expected to find him in the kitchen reading the financial section, but he wasn't there. He wasn't in his bedroom either. Where had he gone?
She grabbed her cell off the counter and dialed his cell. He answered on the third ring. "Where are you?" she asked.
"Just pulling into the lot at work. I thought I would get an early start."
"It's Saturday."
"And your point is?"
"I just … I thought we could spend some time together today."
"You know I have a lot of catching up to do."
"What about tomorrow?"
"Working."
He was working on Sunday?
Or was he? What if all these late nights and weekends, he was actually somewhere else?
"Ash … are you having an affair?" The words jumped out before she could stop them, and the second they did she wished them back.
And Ash responded just as she would have expected. Bitterly. "That's really something coming from." He suddenly went dead silent, and for a second she thought the call had cut out.
"Ash, are you there?"
"Yes, I'm here, and no, I'm not having an affair. I would never do that to you."
"I know. I'm sorry for even suggesting it. I'm just. I guess I'm feeling insecure, and lonely. I never see you."
"I missed more than a week of work."
Which was her fault, so she shouldn't complain. That was more or less what he was saying. "I know. You know what, forget I said anything."
"Tell you what, I'll try to make it home in time for dinner tonight, okay?"
"That would be nice."
"I'll call you later and let you know for sure."
"Okay. I-I love you, Ash."
There was a sight pause, then he said, "Me, too. Talk to you later."
She disconnected, feeling conflicted, asking herself the obvious question. Me, too? Given the situation, wouldn't the more appropriate response be, I love you, too? Shouldn't he be happy that, despite technically knowing him only a couple of weeks, she knew she loved him? Or maybe he thought she was just saying it because she was supposed to. Maybe that was his way of letting her know that it was okay not to say it if she wasn't ready.
Or maybe she was just losing her mind.
She groaned and dropped her forehead against the cool granite countertop, which she realized was a really dumb move when her head began to throb.
Maybe the problem was that she just needed a purpose outside of Ash. She needed to get back to her education, back to law school. She needed a life. Maybe then she wouldn't care how little time Ash had for her.