“Whispering Pines.”
If he was leaving, he’d have to arrange a transfer. He would never leave Lexie and Beulah behind. After all, he’d taken them when he ceased being Addison Foster and became Thomas Strong. She just had to catch him before he switched names again.
Pulling into a parking lot at random, she dialed up information on her cell and got the number for the facility. The operator connected her, and within a few short rings, a perky woman answered the line. “Whispering Pines, how may I help you?”
“I’m calling to check on Lexie Winter.”
Thank God she remembered the name.
“Her father is with her,” the nurse said. “If this is his girlfriend, you’d better hurry. I could get in trouble for saying so, but… he shouldn’t do this alone.”
Do what? Shit, she couldn’t ask. That was something she ought to know.
Mia mumbled something and terminated the call. A trip that had taken much longer the first time-well, she halved it. Her heart was beating like a drum when she reached Whispering Pines. The lot was nearly empty, but she recognized his Infiniti. It was almost nightfall, and the lights gleamed within like gold bars. Mia crossed the lot at a dead run, and she was breathless when she burst into the lobby.
The nurse recognized her, thank God, or it might’ve gone another way. “It’s all right, breathe. You made it. He’s still saying good-bye.”
Oh Christ. Now she knew exactly what the other woman had meant on the phone. “Thank you. I know the way.”
“Wait. Your ID?”
Mia tossed her bag at the startled nurse and hurried down the hall. She remembered the location of the room, even though she’d only been here once. God, would he be happy to see her? Or would he view her presence as an intrusion? She only knew she had to get to him.
From several rooms away, she heard his smooth, low voice as he talked to his little girl. Mia stopped, listening, with her heart breaking. “This is the last time, min skat. I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t know if you ever did. I regret so many things-that I never got to know the wonderful woman you would have become. That you never met the woman I loved. I think you would’ve liked her.”
Why past tense? Because she’s gone… or he thinks I am?
Søren went on, “Please know I love you, and I always will. The doctor assures me this is best-that I’ve waited past any reasonable hope of recovery. He says you suffered irreparable brain damage and you exist in a persistent vegetative state. I’d rather believe you’re dreaming, and it’s so lovely there that you don’t want to come back to the real world, not even for me. So… I’m going to let you stay. Farvel, min kære. Sikker rejse.”
Mia could take no more. She walked the last few paces and stepped into the room, where she stood by the door, drinking him in. He had his back to her, bent over his daughter’s bed. The child looked impossibly small, adrift in white sheets and wires. Søren kissed her brow and then straightened.
She couldn’t speak; it was as if his grief had closed her throat. Instead she watched as he tapped the call button. A doctor would come to unplug the machines, now that he’d finished saying farewell.
Something gave her away, a movement, a breath. He spun, and then the call box slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor. His face was incredibly stark, more than she’d ever seen it. Lines etched his mouth; shadows cradled his eyes. And his eyes-his eyes blazed with incandescent need.
“You’re not here,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not. I’ve finally gone mad.”
That was why he hadn’t answered. He hadn’t even been looking. “But I am here. Søren… you thought I was dead?”
I was afraid you were, too, but I wouldn’t let myself give up. Not on you. Not ever.
He ran toward her then and wrapped her in his arms, running his hands up and down her back. “I was supposed to keep you safe. I didn’t. God, Mia-”
His kiss scorched her lips, passionate to the point of pain. When they broke apart, she felt him trembling head to toe. She flattened her palms on his chest, feeling for the reassuring thump of his heart.
“I told you before… I can look after myself. I’m not fragile… I don’t need saving. I don’t want a hero. I just want-more than anything-for you to love me back.”
“Jesus. I do. I do. I wish I’d told you when we were in Tennessee. You’re in my heart so deep, it would take a scalpel to get you out.”
“How… sweet,” she said dryly.
“How? How are you here? I was there, Mia. I saw the flames coming up the elevator shaft. They charbroiled that bastard Rowan.”
She shuddered, thinking about all the people who hadn’t gotten out. “I caught a ride up with some folks who staged a prison break shortly after I got there. I thought you might’ve been caught down there.”
Shortly might be an understatement. Those had been some long, awful hours. But he didn’t need to know that. She knew him well enough to realize he’d shoulder the guilt.
He shook his head. “I never made it. I got to the facility as it imploded.”
“I’m so sorry. I’ve been desperate to find you.”
“I didn’t believe in miracles. I do now. And I do believe you’re the cleverest woman in the world. Only you could’ve gotten out of there on your own.” His icy eyes reflected the most monumental pride, paired with tenderness, longing, and devotion, tangled into an inextricable emotion she’d call love.
Mia smiled. “I only asked them to hold the lift.”
Before he could reply, a man in a white coat tapped on the open door. “Are you both ready?”
She’d almost forgotten. But Søren laced his fingers through hers, telling her silently to stay. “Go ahead, Dr. Geddy. It’s time.”
Mercifully, it was quiet. There was no drama in the moment, just the sense of rightness and acceptance. Once it was done, the physician covered Lexie with a sheet and escorted them from the room. There were arrangements to be made and a few more papers to sign. Mia held his hand while he took care of these final details.
There would be no funeral, just a quiet scattering of ashes. He didn’t need a marker to remember Alexis Frost; Mia knew his daughter would live forever in his heart.
Afterward, he held her in the silent hallway, burying his face in her hair. If he wept, she didn’t feel it, but she sensed he felt easy with the decision. It had been past time to let Lexie go.
He confirmed that with a quiet “I’m glad it’s done.”
Mia wound her arms around his waist and marveled at the change in him. Before they left, he introduced her to Beulah, the woman who was-and wasn’t-his mother. She was a charming lady, who didn’t seem fazed to receive a woman she’d thought was dead.
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said when Mia pressed her lined hand between her palms. “He deserves to be happy.”
She gazed at Søren over the top of Beulah’s head. “He does.”
He answered the unspoken question. “She knows, Mia. She always knew.”
That revelation prompted an hour-long visit, wherein Beulah told amusing stories regarding the lengths he’d gone to, maintaining the fiction. “He’s a good boy,” she finished. “Do right by him.”
“I will,” Mia promised, and followed him out.
Outside, the cicadas sang in the trees. The night was hushed otherwise, still and expectant. He gazed down into her face. “I can’t wait. I’ve been staying in a hotel nearby, so I wouldn’t have to make the drive from Virginia. There was nothing keeping me there. Follow me?”
“Always,” she said softly.
They took separate cars. Once they made it to his room and closed the door behind them, Søren yanked her shirt over her head. Mia skimmed out of her pants and then helped him. Undressing was clumsy, overeager, and an incredible tease. Søren pushed her back on the bed, and she fell willingly.