An Unsuitable Husband by Ros Clarke

Author:Ros Clarke [Clarke, Ros]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC (Indulgence)
Published: 2014-03-27T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Theresa texted Emile, as soon as she was woken by her alarm, to ask how he was feeling. She was somewhat surprised to find a reply waiting when she returned from the bathroom.

Fine. Can you come and get me now?

She checked the clock. Twenty past six.

No. Why aren’t you asleep?

A few seconds later he replied.

They woke me up to give me more pills.

She laughed.

When will the doctor see you?

No idea. Come anyway. Bring something edible.

She could just imagine Emile’s opinion of a hospital breakfast. Cold toast and cereal with instant coffee wouldn’t go down well.

I’ll be there in an hour with coffee.

She made a cup of tea, then phoned the office and left a message that she was taking the day off. It was a strange thing, having someone else that she was responsible for. Not responsible, she decided as she sipped the tea slowly. That was too strong a word for their situation. Emile was an adult. He was responsible for himself. But she had certain—was obligations the right word?—toward him. Legally speaking, anyway.

It wasn’t any legal obligation that had made her cry all over him yesterday. He’d been so kind, just holding her while she needed it. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that for her. But then she couldn’t remember the last time she’d needed it. She frowned. She’d been terrified when she’d had the phone call from the hospital. Terrified of her responsibility for Emile if he had been in a coma. More than that, she forced herself to admit, she’d been terrified for him. She hadn’t wanted him to suffer that. Well, she wouldn’t want anyone to suffer that. It was just that Emile was so much more than most people. Besides, she liked him. She… Okay, she cared about him. And she was married to him.

That was the stumbling block. She was married to him and she hardly knew him. He was fun to be with, and he could be incredibly kind, but they hadn’t promised any more than that. She hadn’t agreed to love or cherish him, and she certainly hadn’t promised to be at his bedside when he was knocked unconscious or broke his foot. And yet, she was his next of kin. She was the one the hospital had phoned and the one who would have had to make the difficult decisions if his injuries had been more severe.

She should never have done it.

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