Free Double Wedding Ring by Peg Sutherland Page A

the curving flight of stairs toward her room, but before he could make up his mind what to do, he heard a noise from the dining room. He looked down the hall and saw a flash of movement as someone ducked back inside the door.
    He was in the dining room in six quick strides, not even pausing to notice anything about the house or the rooms he hadn’t set foot in in more than a quarter century.
    â€œSusan, dammit, I—”
    The sight of her stopped him in his tracks, stole the words and the breath right out of him.
    She huddled against the far wall, hands behind her. Her hair was a short, soft halo around her pale, thin face, and for a moment Tag wanted nothing more than to mourn the loss of her long, blond ponytail. Ah, Lord, how many times had he remembered the feel of that soft stream of hair sifting through his fingers? He took another step in her direction and saw her flinch.
    He had frightened her, and that angered him all over again. “After all these years, I think you owe me an explanation, Susan.”
    She only stared at him, her stormy eyes growing bigger as she seemed to sag against the wall for support.
    â€œDon’t you think I deserve that, Susan? I waited. Why the hell couldn’t you? “
    She shook her head haltingly.
    â€œI’m not going away, Susan. Not until I understand. I’ve spent half my life trying to explain it away. Now I want a few answers. Don’t you think I deserve that much?”
    He noticed her legs seemed to tremble and he had an instant of sympathy for her. Maybe this was just as hard for her as it was for him. Maybe she, too, had her moments of regret. Maybe—
    â€œWho—?” Her voice, always soft, was something more now. Weak.
    â€œYou promised to wait, Susan.” He heard the pleading in his voice and was powerless to stop it. “Why, Susan? Why didn’t you wait?”
    She shook her head again. Her whole face was tense with effort. “Who? Who...are...you?”
    For a moment, he entertained the notion she was trying to hurt him more, was saying this insane thing purely to cause him more pain. Then everything sank in. The confusion on her face. The limp left arm that had fallen away from the metal bar that lined the wall she leaned against. The wheelchair nearby. And, finally, the long, pink scar inching along her right temple, across her forehead, disappearing into the soft, short growth of new hair.
    The ground shifted, buckling beneath Tag’s feet. He staggered back, touched the door frame for support.
    â€œSusan?”
    Further awareness slapped him in the face. The spacious dining room, empty save for this woman and her wheelchair, a floor mat for exercise, and a variety of foam balls in different sizes. The kinds of things his nephew used with patients in rehabilitation. And hiding behind the wheelchair, peering out at Tag, a little boy in diapers.
    Of course, Sam had said she was his patient. But he hadn’t imagined, somehow, that it was serious. Not his Susan.
    Tag looked back at the woman who had haunted every memory for so long and was stricken with a bitter knowledge. The Susan he had longed for, hated, come to confront, that Susan no longer existed.
    He turned and ran out of the house, back to the motorcycle at the curb.
    He couldn’t ride fast enough to leave behind the memory of her pale, thin face and those wide, confused eyes. Eyes that had no idea who he was.
    * * *
    O PERATING ON GUT-LEVEL instinct she didn’t understand, Susan lunged after the fleeing man. But the message didn’t reach her left leg and it refused to budge. With a small cry, she landed in a heap on the floor.
    Over the sound of Cody’s wails, she cried out to the man. She couldn’t understand the bereft feeling filling her heart as the roar of an engine met her feeble call. She sat on the floor, unable to decide what to do, unable to make sense out of what had just transpired, unable to dispel the sense of doom