Chapter 5

Sam was grateful that his friend Mack met him at the airport. Since their last encounter, when Sam decked him after years of anger for his messing with Amanda, they'd mended the fences. They would never be best buddies again, but at least they were allies. As Sam headed with Mack to his car, they discussed the plan.

"I talked with the lawyer this morning before I got on the plane, and everything is set," Sam informed him. "We'll pick up the papers, and I'll take them to her. From the information you gave me I found out she works at Houston General in the PR department."

"Does she know you're coming?"

"No, and I want to keep it that way in case she doesn't want to see me. That way, if she still hates my guts, when she does see me, she'll be only too happy to sign the papers. If she runs for other reasons...well, I just don't wanna go there." He sighed heavily and looked out at the traffic surrounding them on the freeway. "I just want to get this over with."

"If she signs those papers, we can get it all taken care of this week."

"What do you mean, Mack?"

"I talked to a friend who happens to be a judge. He handles criminal cases, but he can also take care of divorces." Mack paused and a slow smile spread across his face. "As a favor to me, he said he would hear your case this week once the papers are signed. All you gotta do is get her to sign them, we set a date, and you and Amanda show up. Then it's all over in what, five, ten minutes tops."

Sam stared at him, incredulous. "Mack...I don't know what to say."

"Think of it as one last plea for mercy from my old buddy," Mack replied as he glanced at Sam with seriousness in his eyes.

Sam's emotions were still on edge, causing him to blink back unwanted tears. "Thanks, man. I owe you."

"No you don't. We're even."

They shook over it, and a small smile crossed Sam's lips. "Now, if only it's that easy to get Amanda to sign the papers."

Sam felt a little guilty about blindsiding Amanda this way, but in his mind he reasoned that she was just as remiss as he was in getting this done. Over the years, when he bothered to think about it, he wondered if she ever felt anything for him, and if she did, if that was what kept her from making the first move. Granted, when he was in the service he was a hard man to find. But later, after he was forced into retirement and dropped in Miami like a hot potato, if Mack knew where he was, surely it wouldn't be that difficult for her to find him. He couldn't understand why she didn't pursue it, since she left him so easily, he thought she would have been glad to be the ex-Mrs. Sam Axe.

All his thoughts threatened to cloud his mind as he walked the hallway looking for her office, but he remained focused on why he was there. The woman at the desk gave him good directions. He soon arrived at a frosted glass door with a small plaque on it. It read, "Amanda Larson, Public Relations." Larson. Sam's brow furrowed. That wasn't her maiden name. At his knock, he heard her muffled voice.

"Come on in."

He touched the door handle and it opened easily at the slightest pressure. It was too late to turn back now. He didn't want to run, but a small part of him dreaded this moment. The door swung open and there sat Amanda at her desk. Her dark brown hair hung straight, just like he remembered it, only in a more modern style. It curved around her oval face and framed it so well, he couldn't help but stop and stare at her. He'd forgotten how beautiful she was, especially when she wore red, like she did today.

"Sam?" His name came out as a gasp. She stood abruptly and hurried around the desk to meet him half way into the room, her form-fitting suit accentuating every reason he was first attracted to her. "Is it really you? What are you doing here? How did you track me down?"

"Hello to you, too," he responded with a slightly cool tone that stopped her. "I was hoping for something a little more...welcoming."

"I'm sorry I can't give you that, Sam." She shook her head and looked down at the carpet briefly, struggling to deal with this surprise intrusion. She must have reached deep into her memories, because the tone in her voice changed to detached coolness, the same tone he remembered from when they last spoke. When she informed him that it was over between them. "It's been far too long...I'm just...shocked. I never thought I would see you again."

The coolness in her tone hurt like a slap in the face. He went on the offense and returned her animosity with some of his own. "Hoping you'd never see me again is more like it."

She glanced down guiltily, and a movement of her left hand got his attention. That and the ring on her finger, which her thumb played with nervously. When their eyes met again, he was the one who was shocked.

"You remarried?"

"Of course. Did you really think you were all that? Sorry, I wasn't going to waste my life waiting around for you to come crawling back."

"But...how...how could you?"

"It was easy. I found a man who truly loves me, who would die for me if necessary." She shook her head. "I never got that commitment from you, Sam. Or Mack." She turned her head away for a moment, trying to erase that mistake from her memory.

"That's not what I meant. I meant how could you marry someone else when we're still married?" He shook the file folder he brought with him.

"What's that?"

"Divorce papers. I was going to get you to sign them. Apparently you forgot that we never legally dissolved our marriage."

She turned white for a few seconds, but quickly recovered. "I talked to my lawyer, and he assured me that I could get our marriage annulled. Which I did."

"You did? How could you do that without my consent?"

Her gaze bored into his as she leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. "Apparently, you went missing for awhile in Central America, so that actually made my case even easier. Poor newlywed woman, sort of newlywed anyway, recklessly abandoned by her husband. It made a good case, and the court granted my annulment without your signature."

"Mack never told me about that."

"He didn't know."

In his head, Sam did the math. To the world, he'd gone missing for nearly six months, when in fact he was working deep undercover with Michael Westen to infiltrate a gang of Salvadoran rebels who were not all they appeared to be. He had to play a rogue American fighting for the cause of a band of scumbags. It still made his skin crawl after so long. He wanted to contact her, tried to find a way to do it, but any communication to someone on the outside might have blown sky high everything they accomplished, and maybe even cost them their lives.

"You didn't wait long."

"I figured you were dead anyway, so what was the use of waiting?" She smirked. "The widow's benefits weren't worth sticking around."

The rock in the pit of his stomach was the last thing Sam expected to feel when he reunited with Amanda. He thought there would be something more romantic, like love, or at least a revival of that animal attraction he first had for her. But with her emotionally detached words he came to the realization that it was all a sham. He never really loved her, and it was quite possible that she never loved him. He admired her beauty and loved what she made him feel, but beyond that...it was like a big black hole. At that time in his past, that's all he wanted was the physical side of a relationship. Now he knew what he'd been missing, and he mourned what he could have had back then but didn't because his career was more important than getting emotionally close to Amanda.

"So, you can just take those papers and get out of here, Sam. There's nothing left to sign. If you're that concerned about it, call my lawyer." She rifled through her desk drawer and returned to him with a business card in her hand. "He'll get you up to speed on everything."

Sam expected to assail her with the request for a divorce, but in a matter of ten minutes, she floored him. He took the card, turned it over and over, and stared at her with regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Amanda."

"Sorry for what?"

He was even more surprised to see a film of tears that she blinked away. So she did care, at least a little bit. "I'm sorry I wasn't the man you needed. I...I hope the guy you're married to now knows what he's got."

"He does." The first tender smile he'd seen on her in two decades brought her lips to life. "He's a good man. I adore him."

Sam nodded. "Well, good luck, Amanda. It...it was nice knowing you." That sounded so lame after what they shared, but he didn't know what else to say. He was still trying to process the fact that all these years he lived with unfinished business on his conscience, only it was already a done deal. He was a free man. Yet it still didn't seem right, so he called her lawyer, met with him, and saw for himself the yellowing pages that declared that he was indeed single.

He took a red eye to Miami, sitting back in his seat feeling totally drained, and he ignored the drink cart and went for plain water. He was too drawn down to drink. Sleep, that's what he needed but would never get. Especially when he realized that he'd been so focused on his mission that he forgot about Yvette. He mentally kicked himself because he feared that if he wasn't careful, he would repeat the pattern and he would lose her too. When he closed his eyes and tried to doze, she was there, torturing him for not thinking about her, and he could just imagine what his friends' reactions would be when they heard the events of the day, and discovered that he never called the hospital to check on Yvette's condition. The self-condemnations threatened to do him in by the time the plane touched down in Miami. It was so late, he didn't bother calling anyone to pick him up. He just caught a cab.

He should have gone home, but Sam had to pay some penance, so he had the cabbie drive him to the hospital. As he glanced around the nearly empty parking lot close to the visitor's entrance, he didn't see any vehicles he recognized. Michael, Fi, Jesse, and Madelyn probably all went home. He couldn't blame them. After paying the cabbie, he carried his small suitcase into the hospital and made a beeline for the ICU. They said only family could see Yvette, but he was determined to get in and see her, so no matter what he had to do to make it happen, he would do it. He approached the nurse's station, and the cute young thing who glanced up at him with a friendly smile didn't recognize him.

"I'm Sam Axe, Yvette McCain's fiance. I was wondering if...if I could go in and see her."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Axe." The nurse's expression changed to one of sadness and sympathy. "Miss McCain...she passed a couple of hours ago."

"What?" Sam's voice was reduced to a whisper and his knees buckled. The only thing keeping him upright was the counter His knuckles turned white as he hung onto the edge. "No...why didn't anyone call me?" Before he left, he bought a burn phone and gave Michael the number. "They should have called."

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Axe. I don't know why you weren't contacted if you were her fiance."

He couldn't breathe. All Sam could do was cling to the counter, hunched over it, waiting for the wave to pass. But it wouldn't stop. It was like being caught in a rip current, except this time it took him down, down without Yvette. Part of him thought that this was just some sick joke, and that at any moment someone would come out and tell him so. The seconds dragged by, but there was no relief.

"Sir, would you like for me to call the Chaplain?" He couldn't answer. Through a haze he saw her fingers touch a few buttons and he heard the one-sided conversation, but the words were mangled. "Mr. Axe? Are you alright?"

Sam's vision narrowed and he felt himself falling down a deep dark hole. This couldn't be happening. The one time in his life when he finally found true love, it was snatched away so rudely. He wasn't so sure he could take it. That was his last thought as he slipped to the cool linoleum floor.

"Sir, are you alright? Sir."

A soft voice near Sam's ear woke him with a start. His fuzzy brain was confused for a moment until his vision focused on the shiny wings on the lapel of her vest. It was the flight attendant, and she smiled at him in a concerned way. He barely even recognized that she was a looker. All he could think about were the remnants of his nightmare.

"Um, yeah, just a bad dream, I guess."

Her smile widened and she patted his shoulder sympathetically. "We've had a bit of turbulence, but the Captain's flying hasn't been that bad, has it?"

She had a sense of humor too, but Sam was oblivious. "Sorry, just got a lot on my mind."

"We're almost to Miami, so I'll need you to put your seat back upright and I'll take your drink."

Sam fumbled for the empty plastic cup, handed it to her, and stowed the tray table before setting his seat upright. "Thanks." She drifted off to the passengers ahead of him and he blinked a few times, cleared his mind, and prepared to touch ground in Miami. His first stop, no matter how late it was, would be the hospital.