This time it was a very tired-looking guy in medical scrubs. I got up immediately but he waved me back and walked over."Sit back down, that way I can ...it, too," he said wearily. He held out his hand. "I'm Nigel Stearns, one of the surgeons who just operated on your ... wife?" Not yet," I told him."Your fiancée then," he continued. I didn't bother to correct him. "The first thing to tell you is that she's stabilized. The surgery seemed to go well, and she's in recovery now." When will I be able. ‘No,’ his voice was stronger and he risked opening his eyes a little bit wider. ‘Tell me, maybe it will take my mind off of this.’ Maybe he could talk her into putting her hands on his face again. It had felt so good. ‘Come on, be a pal and help make me feel better.’ Michelle felt like slime. She had walked in here mad, pissed enough to tell him to go to hell and forget about working with her. Now her anger was almost gone, all that was left was disgust at herself and a tiny bud of annoyance. More

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