Back in Her Husband's Arms. Susanne Hampton
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with desire. She was aflame with the heat in his fingers as his hands slid under her clothing to stroke her bare skin. His kisses became more urgent and she opened her mouth to him. She wanted to feel him, to have him, just once more. To feel his body next to hers and to taste him. He unbuttoned her blouse and slid it from her warm skin, tossing it on the floor as he trailed moist kisses down her neck.
‘I want you, Sara, and I’m going to have you tonight,’ he breathed low and heavy with desire as his fingers traced gentle lines along the bare skin of her thigh.
His hands moved to the curve of her spine and he pulled her even closer to his hard body. She felt her pulse racing as her fingers threaded through his hair and she kissed him more deeply than before. They fell back onto the bed, discarding the last remnants of clothing before their bodies became one.
* * *
Sara Fielding had woken in her hotel room the next morning more confused than she thought possible. It had all seemed so clear the night before. Just two people sharing a night of pleasure. Two consenting adults needing each other. Nothing more. But now it was anything but clear. She realised just how vulnerable she still was with Tom. She pulled the sheets up to her chin like a flimsy shield. A feeling of dread hit the pit of her stomach.
As daylight slipped through the gap in the heavy curtains she could see the fine stubble on his chin. The satin sheet was barely covering him, and his tanned chest was sculpted like a statue. They had made love all night and he was still the caring, amazing lover she remembered. But she should never have done it. She looked up at the ceiling of the room, wondering what possessed her to be so stupid and impulsive. It was not like her.
She had spent the last three years trying to push past the hurt and disappointment and then, in a few passionate hours, she had ignored her own logic and risked opening up old wounds. She couldn’t blame it on the wine, she hadn’t even finished her drink at the restaurant and had hardly touched the martini at the bar.
Hormones, memories, melancholy, maybe even the remnants of the love they had once shared, had overridden the voice of reason and they had returned to her room together.
Now, in the light of morning, she wanted to scream at herself. Why?
In a few short weeks he would officially become her ex-husband. The divorce would be finalised. She had managed to stay away for all those years, finally finding the resolve to ask for a divorce, and then, just before it became official, she’d slept with him.
She rolled her eyes in disappointment and confusion. Her lawyer had told her that Tom wasn’t contesting the divorce. He had signed the papers. It was just a matter of legal processes being completed.
Perhaps it was knowing that the divorce would be finalised that made her feel safe. That was crazy, she knew, but it was the only explanation she could muster. The divorce was a piece of paper. It wasn’t a shield. It couldn’t protect her heart.
Tom began to stir. She closed her eyes and feigned sleep. She wasn’t sure what to say. Was it Thank you for a lovely evening or I know we slept together but just so you know, I’m not in love with you any more?
She needed time. Perhaps he would wake up and leave. She felt her stomach knot, not unlike the night before when he’d walked towards her at the restaurant. All those old feelings, the good and the bad, were sitting heavily in her chest.
She wasn’t sure if she had imagined it, but as she’d been falling asleep in Tom’s arms the night before, she thought she had heard him whisper, I love you. She didn’t want to go there. She wasn’t about to get involved with Tom again. It would be too easy to fall back into his arms. She had taken so long to not need him in her life. To finally realise that she had a right to live her life the way she wanted, whatever it might cost her.
She lay as still as she could. Her breathing was light but laboured as her nerves played with her anxiety level. Last night they had given in to the chemistry they had always shared. But their differences were still there. That hadn’t changed and they would never be able to move past what had torn them apart. Sara watched Tom slip from the bed and collect his clothes from all over the room. She wondered if he felt the same. A little part wished he had tried to wake her, to hold her and to talk through their differences. To solve the issues they had and to make love again.
Reason reminded her that it would never happen, so leaving without a word would be best. She hoped he’d leave a note on the hotel stationery. That’s all she should expect. All she wanted, she tried to convince herself.
She had loved every minute of his hands and his body on hers. The tenderness and sense of belonging had been undeniable but now, hearing him dressing in the other room, she knew it had been wrong. It had been a lapse in judgement for both of them.
The door of the bathroom opened and Tom emerged fully dressed. Sara closed her eyes again. She didn’t want him to catch her awake, thinking about what might have been. He fumbled for his boots then slipped on his jacket. She watched through half-open eyes as he made his way to the desk and scribbled something on the hotel notepad. Quietly, he crossed to the door of her room, opened it and left quietly. He was gone.
As the door shut, Sara sat bolt upright. She was so grateful he was gone. Or was she? She felt horribly confused. There was nothing sweeter than falling asleep wrapped in Tom’s arms, the heat of his naked body pressed against hers.
But she had to move on. He wouldn’t change. He couldn’t change. And she was tired of changing for everyone else. She almost had the divorce. She would be free. They would be free of each other. They were two very different people with very different priorities.
She wanted children.
He didn’t.
And this time she was walking away to live her life, her way.
* * *
She remembered climbing from the warm bed and heading to the shower. Trying to make sense of the night was pointless, she decided as the warm water ran over her back and shoulders. Images of Tom making love to her came rushing back. She closed her eyes and turned to face the water head-on. The water soaked her hair and ran down her face. She was leaving for Texas in eight short weeks. And she would never see Tom Fielding again.
She turned off the water and wrapped herself in a fluffy white bath towel and returned to the scene of the crime. There was a wrapper or two that she didn’t want the hotel staff to find, so she picked them up and put them in the bin. Tom was so very good at being bad but he was always very careful.
She crossed to the desk and picked up the note.
Dear Sara,
Lovely to spend time with you. All the very best for Texas.
Always,
Tom x
She smiled, a bittersweet smile at the sadness of the situation. Two people who loved each other but who both had to accept it could never be.
Sara hadn’t really pushed for divorce at first but now, with a new life in America awaiting her, she no longer wanted to be Dr Sara Fielding, wife of Dr Tom Fielding. She needed to be single. To have a chance at happiness and a family.
She had only filed for the divorce six months before. She had held onto the idea he would change his mind for too long and she knew it. But Tom had finally agreed to sign the papers. He too had accepted they were over. The way he’d left this morning showed that. Last night had been like two friends who had given in to their emotions for just one night. But her rationale was fragile in the early morning light.
* * *
The sudden sound of an ambulance siren brought Sara back from her reverie. She was beside the tall red-brick hospital walls of Augustine General Hospital and quite close to the front doors and the hospital office of her good friend Stu Anderson. Just after she’d returned from her first trip to Melbourne, Stu had mentioned he was in need of a locum oral surgeon to oversee his private practice while he was away. Sara had had the time and had wanted to help out so she had agreed to work the four weeks before she left for the