‘Ben, the situation is ridiculous. It’s your house too—married quarters because you’re an officer. Don’t you think that people are suspicious that they’ve never seen you there? Did you know that I’ve had to pretend to go away, stay in hotels, just to pretend we’re together when you’re on leave? If you don’t come home now, being this injured, you’re going to open us up to an investigation.’
She shrugged. Maybe that was what he wanted. For the Army finally to realise. Take the house away. Force them to face up to their sham marriage and divorce? She wasn’t sure.
‘I’m sure we can live there together on a temporary basis...separately.’ She licked her lips, forcefully blocking any more memories of their night together in that house.
‘Separately. Of course,’ Ben echoed.
His voice sounded unexpectedly hoarse, as if his mind had taken him to the same place hers had. Which was ridiculous, she knew, and fanciful. She doubted Ben ever thought about that night, or else he did and cringed at the way she’d thrown herself at him.
Yes, she definitely needed closure.
‘Consider it, Ben,’ she pressed on. ‘You gave me a home, and you funded me so I didn’t have to drop out of medicine at uni and take some waitressing job, or something, just to keep a roof over my head. Do you know how many people out there have the smarts but could never pay for the education you paid for—for me?’
‘You achieved this by yourself,’ Ben growled. ‘Your success is nothing to do with me.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Thea shook her head, wondering why he suddenly looked so angry again. ‘I feel I owe you. If you come back home we can stay out of each other’s way, but you can recover at your own pace and get back to the Army. Because that’s your goal, right?’
His face said it all, and it was as if her heart plummeted to the uneven flags underfoot. What was it that drove him so that he refused to take care of himself and let his body recover? He seemed so hell-bent on getting back to the Army, being redeployed as fast as he could.
Or was it just that he was desperate to get away from her? Again.
She shook her head and faced Ben down.
‘Fine. So you come home, recover properly, and then you’re free to get on with your life. And I can get on with mine knowing that I owe you nothing. From that point on my successes will be my own. Deal?’
She waited, wondering what lunacy had made her think that Ben would agree.
Still, she couldn’t help pushing... ‘Deal?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Ben rumbled at length.
‘Think hard,’ she bit out.
He had at least four more months of recovery and procedures in the hospital—although at the rate Ben was going he’d be out much sooner than that—so she had some more time to work on him. But today was a start. He might not have wanted her to be his wife, but
after supporting her financially all these years she owed him something. And at least he wasn’t refusing outright any more.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SO, HERE WE ARE...home.’
Whether she meant her home, his home or theirs, Ben wasn’t quite sure. But, despite the overly cheery demeanour, the slight catch to her voice, which she had tried so hard to hide, reassured him that she was finding this whole thing as awkward as he was.
He looked up at the familiar and yet alien house. It had been five years—hardly any wonder that he felt almost apprehensive about going inside. He stood there, his one solitary bag at his feet, and stared at climbing roses he didn’t remember, a freshly painted fence which was so well bedded into the grass it had clearly been first built a few years ago. Even the evening sun seemed to be in on the act, picture-perfect as it set over the roof.
This wasn’t his home. This was Thea’s home. And he felt like an intruder.
What the hell was he doing here?
‘Ben?’ Thea walked over to him, holding out his walking cane.
He gave a single, sharp shake of his head.
‘I don’t need it.’
‘Ben. Don’t be too proud.’ She reached for his bag. ‘You’ve achieved in three months what it takes most patients five or six to achieve. But you still have a way to go.’
He stayed her hand and she jerked her head sharply to look at him.