The Saint's Wife Read Free Page B

was no match for his bullheadedness.
    And somehow, David was supposed to persuade a woman even more bullheaded than Chris to come home when she clearly had no inclination to do so. If Chris’s diagnosis couldn’t lure her home, then—
    “David, please,” Chris said quietly.
    David’s stomach dropped. “That’s all?”
    “The specialist said…” Chris fell silent for a full minute. Then he sighed, probably shaking his head and rolling his eyes at the audacity of the universe. “Six months, tops. Probably…probably less.”
    David exhaled through his nose, pretending he didn’t feel the lump in his throat. They’d been friends since kindergarten. He’d known they’d be friends for life, but even during the first round of cancer, he hadn’t believed they’d run out of time. Not yet.
    He coughed. “That’s with treatment?”
    “Yeah. The immunotherapy might help, but…” Another heavy sigh. “It doesn’t look good.”
    Shit. The lump was undeniable now. They weren’t even forty yet. This was bullshit.
    “I’m sorry to hear it.”
    “Me too.” Chris paused. “Will you talk to her again? Please?”
    David cleared his throat. “Yeah, I will.”
    “Thanks, David.”
    “Any time.”
    They ended the call. David dropped his phone on the bed and continued pacing, chewing his gum to keep from grinding his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to be in Joanna’s presence again. If he got in the car right now, he could make it back to Seattle before too late, and then he could be at work on Monday. After all, there was no telling how much time Chris had. They needed to start making arrangements to shift his responsibilities within the company to David and their employees.
    And, damn it, David wanted to spend time with his friend before…before this was over. Trying to drag that ungrateful shrew back to Seattle was not how he wanted to spend what little time was left. For that matter, this was his weekend to have his daughter. Alexandra had been willing to switch with him so he could have Tiffany next weekend, but still. If he didn’t already resent Joanna for how she was treating Chris, he did for keeping him away from his little girl.
    But this was about Chris, not him, and Chris desperately wanted his wife by his side. Tomorrow, David would go back to the cabin and try his damnedest to persuade her to come home. From there, it was up to the couple—David had only agreed to this because Chris could no longer travel even this far, and Joanna wasn’t responding to e-mails or phone calls. Hell, she didn’t even respond to finding out her husband wanted her back because he was dying .
    Oh, fuck this.
    David snatched his phone and keys off the bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He drove through the rain to the familiar muddy road and the long driveway, and parked beside the spot where Chris always parked.
    He took the porch steps two at a time and knocked on the door hard enough to make his knuckles smart.
    To his surprise, her silhouette appeared on the other side of the frosted glass. Joanna opened the door and glared up at him. “I guess your handler doesn’t want you to give up, does he?”
    David narrowed his eyes. “This is serious, Joanna.”
    She flew across the threshold and was suddenly right in his face, eyes on fire with fury. “You don’t think I understand that?”
    “If—If you do, then why the hell are you still here?”
    Her lips pulled tight. “If you have to ask me that, then you don’t know a damned thing about my marriage.”
    He glared down at her. “I know that the man you vowed to love in sickness and in health is sick, scared and running out of time, and the only thing he wants is for—”
    “Is for his favorite little bauble to be there so he has a trophy wife right to the end?” she hissed.
    David drew away, staring back at her in disbelief. For a long moment, they locked eyes, but neither spoke.
    Then she fidgeted, hugging herself