Chapter 44

When she left Chris at the hall, Hannah had a plan. The longer she sat in the back of the cab as it snaked through the streets to her destination, however, the more she began to doubt her decision. Could she really do this?

As a teen, she dreamt of the life a doctor's wife, but that changed. Part of it was that she grew up. But if she really wanted to be honest with herself, she'd have to admit that she never really loved him. Back then she didn't know what love was.

Did she now?

Hannah refused to answer that question. Fortunately, she didn't have to when the driver announced that they'd arrived. She felt for the door handle as the cab slowed and turned into the driveway.

In her mind, she could picture the layout of the yard. The well-manicured lawn. The line of rose bushes off to the side. The stepping stone sideway leading up to the brick home. She'd only been there a few times…and never inside. Would she make it past the front door?

Only one way to know for sure, she thought, but steeled herself for the rejection. "Wait for me," she called over her shoulder as she pushed out.

"Meter's running, lady."

"No problem." It's on the good doctor's dime, she smiled to herself. Heavy rain tracked on her cheeks, soaking her within seconds. She didn't care. She had to know what to do and this was the only way. She would push him or push him away. It was up to him.

Her white cane cracked against the pavement as she moved up the driveway and turned into the yard, searching for the stone walkway. By the time she reached the front porch, she was drenched.

Hannah ran her hand over her dark mane, hoping to ring some of the water out of it, but it was useless. She probably looked like a drowned rat at this moment, but she wasn't giving up. She'd made it this far. She wasn't going to back down now.

But when she knocked, she felt the heavy wood give. The door was ajar. The idea that Myles Leland the Third would leave his front door open set her nerves on edge. Something's wrong.

"Myles?"

The slight creak of the door when she pushed it open was her only response, and not one that brought her any comfort. Should I call Bobby? she wondered, debating on whether or not to return to the cab.

Unfamiliar house, unfamiliar situation. All her training told her to stay out, but something pulled her inside. "Myles?" She raised her voice enough that it echoed back to her from several directions, accompanied by a muffled curse.

Her cane clicked on the hardwood floor as she headed in the direction of the noise, a trail of wet footsteps in her wake. "Myles?" she called out again. Before she could hear the response, a flash of light filled her vision nearly causing her to lose her footing on the slick flooring. Stopped in her tracks, she shook her head, swaying slightly. The doorway…I saw it!

Hannah's breathing quickened. This hadn't happened since that night at Ruth's. Suddenly, she stiffened. She was in danger then. Could it be the same now?

There wasn't time to consider the implication. She pushed herself forward carefully, knowing she'd have to rely on her other senses if someone was lurking in the shadows.

When her cane slapped against the doorframe, she reached out. Part of her wanted to shout for joy when she felt the detailing of the molding. The same molding she'd seen just seconds before. She tamped down the overwhelming emotions brewing inside her when she heard the noise again.

"Help me." Myles' voice sounded strange. She frowned, trying to place the difference but couldn't. All she knew was that he wouldn't call out for help if something wasn't wrong.

Hannah stepped through the doorway and paused, hoping to get some orientation to the room from the man inside. "Myles?"

"Hannah." Drawn in on a breath, her name seemed to float over his lips.

Part of her wanted to believe she heard more than relief in his tone, but common sense pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. "Where are you, Myles? Are you okay?"

Heat filled her cheeks as she recalled the time in the hospital she used those very words. The feel of him sliding down her body when she helped him back into bed flooded her senses.

"Do you think you could help me?"

Reality came crashing back at his tone. She stiffened, but otherwise didn't let on what was going through her mind at the moment. "What happened?"

There was a pause before he responded dryly. "Failed suicide attempt."

"What?" Eyes wide, she rushed towards him. Her cane swept the area for anything hazardous in her path. She found him without difficulty – when her cheek connected with his knee. "What the—?

"You might want to hold off on the embrace for the moment. Your aim would be off considerably." His voice came from somewhere near her hips.

"How did you…?" She knelt until she found the hard planes of his chest. Cold, wet fabric made her shiver. "You're soaked!" At last her fingers found his face. It too was drenched. "Myles, what are you doing upside-down and soaked to the skin? I…" Water splashed in her own face and she looked up, feeling the wind and rain blowing through the room.

"I told you. Failed suicide attempt. You think you could get me down and then we can discuss all the particulars?"

She shouldn't… she really shouldn't laugh. It wasn't funny. It… oh, who was she kidding? The giggle bubbled up, bursting out and doubling her over where she knelt, growing in power until she thought she'd never stop.