Beyond the Breaking Point (15 page)

Cassidy exited the hospital still in the scrubs she’d worn during the delivery she’d assisted, too tired to change. It was well after seven p.m. As usual, she’d gone over her twelve hours.  Not that she minded. It wasn’t like she had anyone waiting at home for her, not anymore.

No one to bitch and gripe or make her feel guilty with just a disappointed look at how many hours she’d put in at the hospital. Or, she added to be fair, no one waiting with a hot meal and a shoulder rub, ready to help her unwind and relax after a long, hard day.

Damn it, why couldn’t she just hate Phillip and be done with it? Paint him as the bad guy with no redeeming qualities so her broken heart could just move on already?

She took the elevator up to the rooftop parking reserved for doctors and hospital administrative staff. When she’d arrived at work, the sky had been dark, but now the late evening summer sun lingered in the western horizon. With its decent, the intense summer heat was slowly starting to dwindle into more comfortable temperatures. Still it was enough to make Cassidy gather her hair at the nape and lift it so her neck could catch the slight breeze.

She walked toward her assigned space, thinking over her day, what she’d accomplished and what was on her agenda for tomorrow. She had a few patients nearing their delivery time that she wanted to check on. August and September were busy months for obstetricians. One woman, Mrs. Miller, had blood pressure issues that had Cassidy particularly concerned. She was making a mental note to contact her tomorrow when she noticed her parked SUV had acquired an occupant.

She’d pulled out her phone to call security when she recognized Phillip, semi-reclined in her driver’s seat with his eyes closed. Damn, damn, damn, she thought as she slowed her approach. Max had warned Phillip would probably show up at her job. She’d expected him to come to the floor, not ambush her in the parking garage.

“How’d you get in here?”

At the sound of her voice, Phillip opened eyes that were tired-looking and red-rimmed. He lifted his head off the headrest and looked at her. “I drove in.”

“And security just let you?” she asked disbelievingly.

His smile was grim, determined. “I’m your husband. My wife, you,” he said pointedly, in case she didn’t remember, “is having car problems and called me to come check it out. When the guard called to confirm, he was told you were in surgery and couldn’t be disturbed. I had ID and a spare set of keys to your vehicle. What was he supposed to do?”

Nothing, she thought with a sigh. Knowing there was nothing for it but for them to get it over with, she asked, “Why are you here, Phillip?”

“Why am I here? There’s an interesting question.” His eyes sparked angrily. “Could it be because my loving wife disappeared and wouldn’t do me the courtesy of answering or returning any of my calls?” He unfolded from her vehicle with leashed fury. “That I was worried about you, concerned about your safety, or damn it, that I love you and needed to see you, talk to you?”

She retreated a step, watching him cautiously. “I—”

“You won’t talk to me. You haven’t talked to your family. You moved out of our home. Goddamn it, Cassidy, you
left
me. You won’t give me a chance to explain and I’m supposed to just sit back and let it go? Let
you
go?” His angry gaze drilled into her and she retreated another step. She’d seen this man in many moods, but never this furious. She honestly didn’t know what he’d do.

Licking nervously dry lips, she said, “We—”

“That’s right, Cassidy. We.” He caught her by the waist and hauled her close, burying his face in her neck. Her stuff went flying but right then, neither of them cared. “God, baby, don’t leave me. Don’t give up on us. I love you so much. So damn much.”

She felt tears prick and closed her eyes to prevent them from falling. “Don’t, Phillip. It’s too late.”

He cupped her face. “Look at me, Cassidy.” When she refused, he shook her. “Look at me, damn it!”

Her eyelids popped open as she stared in surprise. He was crying. Phillip never cried. “It’s never too late. I won’t let it be too late. We can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back.”

His tears breached the dam holding hers, and they broke forth on a wail of pain. She cursed him and beat at his shoulders, his chest. Phillip clutched her tightly to him, murmuring apologies and low-voiced promises that it would never, ever happen again.

She cried until she was drained and felt empty inside. Around them other staff members arrived and left, and Cassidy was sure more than one curious glance came their way, but no one interrupted. As she drew a deep shuddering breath, Phillip released her to reach inside her vehicle to the box of tissues she kept inside and handed her a few to clean her face.

“Do you love me, Cassidy?” he asked solemnly.

“I don’t trust you,” she said, her gaze sliding away.

He cupped her chin and tilted face up. “But do you still love me, baby?” he asked intently.

She squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to answer the question.

“Cassidy.” It was his lawyer’s voice, the one that said he’d wait all day for a truthful answer.

“Yes, damn you.” She glared at him. “I love you. I don’t want to but I do.”

Typical Phillip, he disregarded the last and focused on what mattered to him. “And I love you. We can work on the rest.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to work on. I’m filing for divorce.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time. “Don’t waste your money. I won’t sign my agreement and without my consent, you’ll have to wait two years for the judge to grant you a divorce. You’d better believe I’ll spend every second of that time trying to win you back.”

“Two years?” she echoed faintly. Phillip had to be lying.

“Two,” he confirmed. “You’re a stubborn woman, Cassidy Brannon, but I won you back once. I’ll do it again. We were made for each other and I’ll never let you go.”

Cassidy stiffened her spine. “You don’t have a choice. I won’t stay married to a man I can’t trust. Even if it takes two years”—
two freakin’ years?
—“I’ll get my divorce.”

Phillip leaned down and kissed her mouth. Cassidy forced herself not to soften, not to respond. “I love you,” he repeated. “I’ll win your trust. When something’s important to me, I never lose. I’m a lawyer,” he reminded her.

Cassidy remained silent, still reeling inwardly.

He bent and picked up her belongings, and placed them in her vehicle. “Let me drive you home. We can pick up my car tomorrow.”

“No, that’s not my home, not any longer.”

“Who are you staying with? I called Tammy but she said she hadn’t seen you. Erika won’t talk to me. A hotel is too damned expensive. Come home, baby,” he cajoled, placing his hands on her hips. “Even if it’s to the spare bedroom. I miss you.”

“I leased an apartment,” she said quietly, watching for his reaction.

The shock rocked him on his heels, but he recovered quickly. “I see. How long is the lease for?”

“A year.”

He studied her. “Then I’ll follow you to your apartment. Make sure you arrive there safely. Some neighborhoods are really rough. I hope your apartment isn’t in one of them.”

Arguing did no good and only delayed the inevitable. It wasn’t like she was hiding from him. Given time, he’d eventually discover where she lived. “It’s one of the better, rehabilitated neighborhoods.”

“Good. I don’t want my wife living in a slum. I’d rather you be in
our home
…” he said archly.

Cassidy ignored the hint and climbed in her vehicle. Phillip closed the door and tapped the roof. “You sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be right behind you and Cassidy, stop avoiding my calls. There’s more than us to think about.” He leaned in the open window and kissed her again. A quick brush of lips on lips.

She could have been petty and jerked away but right now she was too tired, too drained to do anything but allow it. Tomorrow when she was better rested she’d assert her independence.

Two years
? she thought again in dismay as she reversed out of the parking space. He had to be lying, but he’d been too confident. Cocky, almost. And he was a lawyer. True, family law wasn’t his specialty, but he’d done his time studying it. If it was true, what was she going to do? Stick to her guns, she decided, and ride it out. No matter how persistent Phillip was, he’d eventually get the message that their marriage was over. And if she was pregnant, as he’d alluded to? Well, she’d cross that bridge when she got to it.

She drove out of the parking garage with Phillip on her tail, where he stayed as they made the fifteen-minute trek to her apartment. As she neared the residence entrance, she slowed and put on her turn signal. Cassidy slid in her key and punched in the access code. With a toot of the horn, Phillip kept going.

Cassidy breathed a sigh of relief. She’d been sure Phillip would insist on coming up, seeing her place. Fortunately he’d surprised her. She parked and went upstairs. Inside her apartment she locked the door, tossed her stuff on the couch, and headed for the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later after a long, hot shower, Cassidy slid on a robe, so tired she could barely keep her eyes opened. She eyed her bed, which looked so inviting, even as her stomach rumbled, reminding her it had been hours since she’d last eaten.

Even so, she might have ignored it had the buzzer not rung. She went to the intercom. “Yes?”

“Let me in, Cassidy. I brought dinner,” Phillip said.

Hunger won out over wariness and she pushed the button to unlock the door. She glanced down at the robe, her only covering, and knew there was no way she could see Phillip like this. He’d take it as an invitation instead of a testament to her weariness. She trudged into the bedroom and pulled on a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt, finishing just as he knocked.

She turned the locks and opened the door. He held up a fragrant bag of food. “I know how tired you are after long nights like these. I brought Chinese. I haven’t eaten either. I figured we could share.”

For a single moment, her mind flashed to the last Chinese food she’d smelled and the reason why she hadn’t gotten to eat any of it. Pushing the thought aside, she invited him in. No reason why they couldn’t be civil to each other. In the back of her mind was the thought that if Phillip realized how serious she was about wanting a divorce, when the time came he’d agree to it.

He strode inside and stopped, glancing around at the new furniture. A small muscle twitched at the side of his mouth, but all he said was, “Nice place.”

“Thanks. Put the food on the table while I get the plates,” she told him.

“No. You sit down while I get what we need. I remember how tired you always are. Sit. Relax. You’ve already had your shower, I see,” he said, maneuvering her to the table and pulling out a chair so she could sit.

It was a power play, pure and simple. In his not so subtle way, Phillip was showing her he wasn’t a guest in her home, but her husband. One who had the right to take care of her.  He knew due to exhaustion and the emotional release earlier, her defenses were down. Too tired to take issue, she sat and let him do as he pleased.

“Pick your battles,” she told herself. There’d be time enough later to re-establish boundaries.

It annoyed her to hear him scrounging around in her kitchen, making himself at home. But minutes later when he set a plate full of all her favorites in front of her, she decided he could be forgiven—this time. He settled across from her, his plate loaded down. As he ate, he spoke idly of his day and the work he’d had to catch up on. If Cassidy closed her eyes and allowed herself to do so, she could have easily forgotten all that had occurred last week and pretend things were as normal between them as Phillip was trying to make them out to be.

But she couldn’t. This camaraderie was a lie. All was not well between them and she couldn’t let herself forget. After only a few bites, enough to take the edge off her hunger, she pushed her plate to the side.

He paused mid-sentence to say, “You barely touched your food.”

“I’m too tired to eat,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“You need to eat or you’ll make yourself sick.” He nudged the plate in front of her. “Try to eat a little more. If I know you, you barely ate breakfast and probably worked your way through lunch.”

Since he was right on both accounts, Cassidy forced herself to eat more. When she slid her plate aside this time, he let it go. “Go on to bed, honey. I’ll clean up out here and put the food away.”

Cassidy pushed her chair away from the table and rose on unsteady feet. “I can do it. You need to leave so I can lock up.”

“Honey, you’re swaying on your feet.” He came around and put an arm around her waist. “Lie down. I’ll lock up.”

There was a reason why she didn’t want him doing it, but with tiredness crashing down on her, her mind wouldn’t work straight. She let him guide her into the bedroom. The room seemed to twirl about on its axis as Phillip flipped down the bedding. Then she was sliding between cool, crisp sheets. Sleep swallowed her whole the second her head hit the pillow.

Phillip stood by the bed, staring down at his sleeping wife, a determined, calculating expression on his face. With a tender hand, he brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. “You’re mine, Cassidy Brannon. Have been for nearly ten years, ever since I looked at you and knew you were the woman I wanted to spend my life with. Fight me if you must, but I’m not letting you go.”

He went out front and put the extra containers of food in the fridge. She could eat them tomorrow when she came home from work. He finished his food, tossed both disposable plates in the trash, and wiped down the table.

Then he spent a few minutes checking out his wife’s apartment. That she’d rented an apartment instead of merely bunking with a friend for a few days meant she was serious about wanting a divorce. But he’d meant what he said too. He loved Cassidy and intended to do everything in his power to keep her by his side. Insinuating himself into her apartment had been step one.

Yeah, he’d only accomplished it because she was so tired she could barely stand straight on her feet, but all was fair in love and war. This was both. What he wanted to do was climb into bed beside her, but he was smart enough not to push his luck that far. Instead he found her extra linens and bunked down on the couch. She’d be pissed in the morning when she saw him but tough cookies. He was her husband and he had every right to be there.