The Scale offices were located in London’s Portland Square, the lavish, high-ceilinged function room overlooking The Mall with views down to Buckingham Palace. Dan clenched his hand around his untouched drink, his grip threatening the integrity of the glass. He didn’t need to turn from the view to see her. Her presence in this elegant room traversed the plush carpeted expanse that separated them, burning the back of his neck like she was branded there.
He should go to her, drag her down the hall to a deserted office and kiss some sense into her stubborn, beautiful head. The urge to cross the room and kiss her was so strong, he forced himself not to look at her. But what good would it do? And she was right. She was better off without him.
He was guilty of all the things she’d accused him of. Part of him had tried to fix her. Part of him would always love Megan. Part of him could work through his residual feelings of guilt and would benefit from counselling.
He should never have touched her. He had no right. All he’d done was bring her more pain.
Conversations buzzed around him, scraping at his patience until his feet tottered on the edge of sanity. He cursed himself for the thousandth time in a week. An endless week. A week in which he’d had plenty of time to regret his part in the disastrous post-BBQ debacle. And he’d had a part. Even though he’d stood there, struck mute while Eden had made her … speech, her indictment. Even though he’d left all the denials, declarations and demands locked inside his stupid skull. He’d stood, brooding and blindsided while she’d lashed out, accusing and sentencing with one blow.
And he couldn’t even be angry with her. She was right. Every word she’d spoken, undeniable. She did deserve more. Deserved everything a person had to give. And even as impotent emotions had boiled inside his silent chest, he’d known she was right.
He swallowed, his mouth dry but his stomach rebelling at the contents of the glass in his hand. He’d blown it—spent too long hiding beneath his white coat, consumed with his pity party. He’d loved Megan. She’d been his life. But he’d never forgiven himself for not spotting the signs of her cancer sooner. Soon enough to save her. But that was just it. There were no signs. Ovarian cancer was notoriously difficult to detect, often presenting too late, when the disease had progressed too far to change the outcome.
And he was just a man. Not possessed of a sixth sense or X-ray vision, no matter how much he wished that were true. Just a man, who’d loved a woman with everything he had and lost her anyway.
And now he’d lost another woman. A woman he loved. He scuffed the carpet with his toe. Why hadn’t he told her? Why hadn’t he screamed it from the rooftops, every day from the first moment he’d realised his feelings?
Because he was an idiot. Fucked up. Wallowing in his pathetic saviour complex, running around trying to fix the world. But that wouldn’t bring Megan back. And it wouldn’t cure him of his guilt. All it had done was make Eden feel less that she was. Which was perfect. A brave, wonderful woman who’d woken him from a long sleep, and shown him his flaws in all their glory.
Yes, she’d suffered a life-altering ordeal. Still suffered from the long-term consequences of being caught up in someone else’s anger with the world. He knew enough about PTSD and depression to understand she might never be completely free from their insidious claws. But he couldn’t fix her either. All he could do was love her, care for her and never stop supporting her while she made herself whole again.
The urge to go to her, to cross the room, steal her from what he assumed was her family—two men dressed, like her, in uniform, the women by their sides and Sam—and kiss her until his memories of the taste of her lips merged with the sublime reality, almost paralysed him. But the enormity of his monumental cock-up, of how much he’d let her down glued his feet to the floor. For an educated man, a doctor, his stupidity crushed him.
Steve, the Ruby Challenge coordinator, cleared his throat and waved to the room. Dan moved to stand beside Emily and the remainder of the challenge volunteers to the left of Steve.
‘Ladies and gentlemen.’ Steve’s voice rose above the diminishing chatter. ‘Thank you all for coming today to support your loved ones.’ He extended one arm to the volunteer team. ‘It has been our extreme privilege to get to know this group of inspiring servicemen and women.’
Dan’s eyes burned, desperate to seek out Eden. He stared at the patterned carpet, his chest aching as the burn intensified.
‘These brave people, who not only serve our country with honour, diligence and integrity, but also fight every day to overcome personal difficulties. They inspire us.’ A round of clapping and ‘hear, hears’ resounded from their group and Dan’s palms stung with the force of his own applause.
‘They pushed themselves. Every day. Pushed themselves to train. Pushed themselves outside of their comfort zones. Pushed themselves to complete something. Something more than just a physical challenge. A journey. From where they emerged stronger than when they began. And they have made us stronger too. Through our admiration, our newly forged friendships and our enriched lives from knowing such people.’
A hearty round of applause engulfed the room, together with a smattering of cheers and wolf whistles. Steve fell silent, his own claps joining the noise as he grinned at the Ruby participants scattered around the room.
Dan looked at her then. Couldn’t stop himself. His gaze drawn to find her, as if a piece of him was missing and her mere presence forced it to snap magnetically back into place. Her shy smile glowed, triumphant, full of laughter as she accepted hugs and pats on the back from her loved ones.
She looked up, her eyes finding his across the chasm that separated them, and the joy slipped from her face before her stare fell away from his. Nausea kicked him in the gut, and he battled to swallow down the taste of bile.
‘So, to kick off this graduation ceremony, can I ask the Ruby Challenge graduates to join us in the next room for official photographs,’ said Steve.
The crowd began to part, releasing the fourteen graduates who stepped forward to gather to the right of Steve.
‘Following the photos, lunch will be served in the Everest Room. Friends, families, please feel free to make your way there. We will join you shortly.’
As the room cleared, Eden and her fellow graduates were ushered to the adjoining room. She didn’t once look at Dan. He followed the group, his feet as heavy as his heart and his face grim.
* * *
Seeing him was way harder than she’d thought. She’d known he would be here, of course. Prepared herself for the slam of recognition she’d experienced when she’d walked into the room surrounded by her loved ones, and her eyes zeroed in on his tall frame like a heat-seeking missile. She hadn’t been prepared enough.
Even now, two hours later, the bone-deep discomfort trilled through her, as if every nerve, every muscle yearned to go to him, to sprint across the scant metres separating them and … what? Collapse into his arms? Take him hostage until he loved her back the way she wanted to be loved?
But he didn’t.
He’d helped her, and she owed him so much. He’d shown her that her scars didn’t matter. They didn’t define her, and anyone who had a problem with them was not someone she wanted in her life. But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore. She deserved more.
A week had passed since the BBQ and he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t turned up on her doorstep dragging her into his arms while words of love spilled form his mouth.
She’d thought she hadn’t wanted any of those things. When she pushed him away for the final time, she’d convinced herself that she’d be okay, that in time, she’d get over Dan. But six sleepless nights later, the pain, the wanting, the missing him grew more acute, as if the misery not only multiplied but grew more potent with every passing hour.
But she’d be strong. She was strong. She’d survived worse, hadn’t she?
Eden placed her empty glass on a nearby table, her eyes protesting. Don’t look at him. Dan, appealing enough in his own right, looked so perfect in his three-piece suit, chatting to her handsome, uniformed brother across the room, she itched to either stride across and kiss him, or fling herself from the balcony to land in a mess on The Mall.
Mirror-black shoes filled her vision and she snapped her gaze up to find her commanding officer stood before her.
‘Captain Archer.’ Major Belmont acknowledged her salute, before reaching out a firm hand for a shake. ‘Congratulations on completing your challenge, Archer.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it today. Was going to call you in for a meeting next week, but … Well, I made it.’ He tugged the hem of his dress jacket. Straightening an imaginary wrinkle?
Foreboding tingled through her. She forced her body to remain still, fighting the urge to squirm.
‘You received my email?’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you. My GP has referred me for the recommended counselling.’
A curt nod of acknowledgment. ‘Well done, Captain. You’ve been through a lot. It’s very brave to admit you need a little help.’
She nodded, her heart too heavy to feel much in the praise from her CO, a man she respected almost as much as the colonel.
‘And it seems your bravery was an inspiration to others.’
What?
‘The challenge doctor, Dr Chalmers, commented on your overall fitness and attitude.’ Her CO had the grace to look a little shame-faced. ‘But it was the letter accompanying your medical report from Scale. That moved me the most. You’re going to be just fine, Captain. I see no reason you shouldn’t return to work, light duties, for now.’
Letter?
Her bewilderment must have been clearly plastered over her face because he added, ‘I sent you the letter. From a Dr Barbour. Attached to the email.’
She’d been so upset that day, and over the subsequent days, she couldn’t face rereading that email, gleaning all she’d needed to know from the first read-through. Or perhaps not.
‘You didn’t see the attachment?’ A censorious curl of his bushy eyebrow.
Struck dumb, she shook her head, her eyes scanning the room for Dan. Dan had written to her CO? Before she’d accused him. Before she’d kicked him out.
The air left Eden’s lungs in a rush, her automatic words filling the silence her otherwise fraught mind would have offered. ‘No, sir.’
The space in her chest recently vacated by air, filled with a surge of regret. Still hollow, she floundered, flailing for an anchor to cling to. Major Belmont continued, unaware of the tumult twisting her into knots.
‘It seems this Dr Barbour, although not himself a Ruby participant, credits you with helping him through his own personal difficulties. He spoke very highly of you, your bravery, your tenacity and your willingness to confront your own wounds and make positive changes towards your own healing. Well done, Captain. You’re an inspiration to us all, not just Dr Barbour.’
Eden barely noticed him leave, her head spinning with such momentum she reached out a steadying hand to the nearby table.
Dan.
She’d helped him?
All she’d done, from the moment she’d met him, was push him away. She’d lashed out, said hateful things, accused him, denied his caring, when he’d done little more than excel at his career, offering her comfort and support despite her self-loathing.
Her head snapped up, her gaze frantically searching the room for him. How could she have been so vile, so hurtful? So he loved his wife? Would she love him as much as she did if he felt differently? That’s who Dan was. A man full of compassion and strength. A man who healed, who fixed, who consoled. How many thousands of patients over the years had he helped? How many, whether they realised it or not, were alive, or healthier or more complete because of him and his humanity and integrity. Heroes came in many guises, and didn’t always wear medals or a uniform.
Eden spotted Tom, reaching his side in two or three hurried strides. Her gaze flicked around the room. Desperate. An icy fist settled in her stomach. She needed to thank Dan. To apologise. Even if it made little difference, he should know—she’d thought she only wanted a piece of him. Could settle. But he’d helped her to see that she deserved all of his heart. Even if it was something he could never give. At least, because of him, she now understood her own worth. Pain seared her. The pain born of sadness. The worst kind. Hotter than the physical agony of her worst memories.
Her self-esteem had been so long trapped inside her damaged body, she’d folded in on herself like an insect crushed inside a cocoon. But even weighed down by the sadness of losing Dan, her true self unfurled, blood pumping through her as the miracle of metamorphosis occurred. And she would eventually be better. Whole. A complete version of herself. No longer willing to accept anything less than what she deserved. Thanks to Dan. Because of Dan. He’d taught her to love—starting with herself.
‘Tom, where’s Dan?’
Tom adjusted his number one dress hat under his arm. ‘Nice guy. Can’t sing your praises loudly enough, Kid.’
Warmth spread through her, combating the tingles in her fingertips.
Jane appeared, accepting a kiss from Tom. ‘Who?’ Her eyes gleamed with interest.
‘Volunteer doctor from the challenge.’ Tom’s eyes found Eden’s again, honed with that scary pinpoint accuracy he possessed. A human lie detector.
‘He’s in love with Eden,’ Sam chipped in, and Jane’s eyes rounded.
Eden flushed, but it wasn’t enough to melt the icy fingers gripping her heart.
‘But she’s still too scared to go after him,’ said Sam, her shrewd eyes watchful, searing Eden with their challenge. Too late, Sam.
‘I’m not. Where did he go?’ Her head swivelled from her sternly smug brother and smugger friend, scanning the room.
‘Not sure, why?’ Tom stare followed hers, detouring around the depressingly-devoid-of-Dan room.
She turned on them. ‘I messed up, okay. I need to find him?’ She reached for Sam’s arm, conveying her panic through the frantic clench of her fingers. ‘Please help me?’ Her imploring gaze swivelled between her family, begging.
Sam’s hand covered hers and Tom reached for the other. ‘Well done, Kid. I’ve waited my whole life for you to ask.’ He led the three women from the room in search of Dan.
Ten minutes later, sick to her stomach and unable to witness their carefully pitiless glances, Eden accepted the truth.
Dan had left.