Vlad had arranged for Ashleigh to take Rachel to get her hair done again since she didn’t have the energy to wash and dry it. They were also getting manicures and pedicures, so he hoped he’d have a few hours before Rachel got home. He’d driven from Las Vegas and gone straight to the grocery store, picking up what they’d need for at least a few days. When he got to her house, he put away the groceries and stowed a week’s worth of clothes in the guest room. Though he had every intention of sleeping with her at night, he’d still give her a choice.

It had been too long since they’d had any kind of intimacy and he missed it. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept in the same bed and it had been about six weeks since he’d made love to her. He was willing to wait for the sex, but he was going crazy not being able to touch her at all. She seemed so fragile it broke his heart a little; he yearned to hold her close and make sure she felt all the things she didn’t want to hear him say.

When he was done settling in, he went to the kitchen and marinated two of the steaks he’d bought. He had a salad and corn on the cob to go with it, along with raspberry sorbet—her favorite—for dessert. He also had chicken for tomorrow night, cod for the night after and, if she was up to it, he would try to take her out for dinner the night after that. Otherwise, he had to go shopping again.

He wandered out to the living room and spied the box the painting he’d bought her was in and slowly unpacked it. It was just as he remembered, and he slowly lifted it out. She had a limited supply of tools in the garage, so he went in search of what he’d need to hang it. Hoping he’d be done before she got home, he went to work.

* * *

Rachel gave Ashleigh a dirty look when they pulled into her drive and she spotted Vlad’s Corvette. Ashleigh just smiled and waved, pulling away as quickly as she’d arrived. Rachel steeled her resolve and made her way into the house, surprised to smell something cooking. She was about to call out to Vlad when she noticed the painting hanging over the fireplace. Momentarily frozen in place, she simply stared. The painting portrayed a beach in Hawaii strikingly similar to one she and Vlad had gone to, the same one they’d loved so much she’d decided to change their honeymoon plans. The honeymoon they hadn’t gone on.

She’d thought she was past the pain and humiliation of her ruined wedding, but seeing the painting brought it all back and she swiped at her eyes just as Vlad came out of the kitchen.

“You’re home,” he said softly, walking over to greet her. He followed her teary gaze and sighed. “I’m sorry—don’t you like it? Is it too painful to have hanging up? It’s just so beautiful, I thought…”

“No, it is beautiful. Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

“Come, sit down. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Lethargic.”

“This can’t be because of me,” he said quietly. “You didn’t know I was going to be here today. Even if you’re still angry, that’s not what’s making you so melon—” He sighed, muttering to himself in Russian.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Melancholy?”

“Yes! That’s the word.”

“I’m melancholy and lethargic because I don’t feel well, and it’s been more than two weeks. I’m not used to sitting around watching TV and reading so much. I can’t even wash and dry my own hair. If you want the truth, I’m fucking miserable.”

He took her hand and led her to the kitchen, letting her sit at the small table by the bay windows. “Then don’t rest, sit here and keep me company while I cook. I’ve got steaks marinated with garlic, red wine, and mushrooms ready for the grill. Salad is in the refrigerator, and I seasoned corn on the cob, which is already on the grill. Does that sound good?”

She gave a half-hearted shrug. “Sure.”

“You’re going to eat.” He wagged a finger at her as he carried the plate with the steaks out to the patio where the grill was heating up.

She watched with a soft, sad smile, thinking of all they’d missed since their non-wedding day and all she would undoubtedly miss with her decision to maintain her recent self-imposed exile. It was nice having him here, though, and she was reluctant to send him away just yet. She needed to have a long talk with Ashleigh about boundaries and going behind her back, but Ashleigh believed in happily-ever-after because she was living it. Rachel had no such preconceived notions. Her life had begun to unravel the day the doctors had taken her uterus and ovaries out.

She purposely hadn’t told Vlad about the eggs she’d harvested because there were still so many variables involved. The research she’d done showed a little over a sixty percent chance of pregnancy using her harvested eggs, but the process for finding an acceptable, trustworthy surrogate was complicated and the legalities were convoluted. The success rate was low for her comfort level and the last thing she wanted was to lead him on with the promise they could still have their own children. She wanted them desperately, and knowing how small the chances were she’d ever have them devastated her. At first, she’d been too worried about dying to think about that part of it, but now that the pathology report had come back and her prognosis looked good, a baby was all she thought about.

“Rachel?” Vlad was staring at her intently and she glanced up.

“Sorry. I was daydreaming.”

“Anything good?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

He squatted in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Come outside with me.”

“No, I don’t think—” She tried to protest but he was already gently lifting her out of the chair and carrying her outside. “Vlad.”

“Fresh air is good for you.”

“Answer my original question. What are you doing here?”

“I told you I was going to take a leave of absence to take care of you.” He put a finger on her lips. “If I hadn’t had a panic attack and done something really stupid, we would be married right now and would have gone through this together. Instead, I was on a wild goose chase in Russia while you went through the scariest event of your life with your ex. That ends now. The only person who’ll be taking care of you now is me.”

She sighed. “You’ve truly worn me out with all this. Will you leave if I tell you I love you and I’ve forgiven you?”

He chuckled. “No. That would make me unpack all those boxes of my things I saw in the garage.”

She flushed. “I forgot about those.”

“I’m not taking them home, so don’t even think about it.” He walked over to the grill to turn the steaks and check the corn, which appeared to have been on for a while.

Rachel had to admit being outside was nice. It was hot, but pleasant here under the overhang and a gentle breeze from the hills felt good on her skin. She’d been holed up inside for more than two weeks, between the hospital and the house, and she yearned for a night out. Even a quiet dinner somewhere would be better than another night on the couch or the bed, reading and watching TV. She hadn’t even really gotten online, other than a few posts on social media telling fans she’d be back on set soon. She hated it.

They ate on the patio in strangely comfortable silence. They’d been a couple long enough to not need to fill every moment with conversation, but the break-up weighed heavily in the air between them. Rachel was battling conflicting emotions, one part of her wanting so much to be with him again and the other reminding her he deserved better. The fact he’d taken a leave of absence from the Sidewinders blew her away. She didn’t even know how to address it. She wanted to be mad he’d probably told his coach she had cancer but couldn’t muster up the energy. Coach Barnett wouldn’t announce it without their permission, so it had been a stupid thing to be angry about in the first place.

After dinner, Vlad forbade her to get up and cleaned the kitchen while she watched the sun set. For the first time since the surgery, she was almost relaxed, her eyelids drooping a little as she stared off into the distance.

“Would you like me to take you to bed?” Vlad’s voice startled her and she jumped, realizing she must have fallen asleep.

“What time is it?”

“Doesn’t matter. You looked tired. Come. Let’s go to bed.”

“Vlad, I can’t—”

“Seriously?” He gave her a dirty look. “You think I’d try to have sex with someone who had major surgery two weeks ago?”

She dipped her head. “I know you wouldn’t.”

He picked her up and she nestled against his strong chest. For tonight at least, it was far too much work to worry about sending him away or telling him she wanted to be alone. She’d think about all that tomorrow.

Vlad watched Rachel sleep for a while before drifting off, too. The next time he opened his eyes, she was stirring and he leaned over to brush his lips across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my love. Do you need help getting up?”

“No. I have to strengthen my midsection, so I need to do this myself.”

“Okay.” He got to his feet and stood at her side as she slowly slid off the bed and into a standing position.

“You’re not going to watch me pee, are you?” She arched a brow at him.

He smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time, but no, I’m going to the other bathroom so I can pee, too.”

He did his business and hurriedly got dressed before finding her in the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator.

“What did you do?” she demanded. “Buy out Gelson’s?”

“We needed food for at least three days,” he responded. “I bought enough for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days. After that, either I go back or we go out.”

“How do omelets sound?”

“I can do it.”

“No, I need to start doing things. The doctor yelled at me, said I’m healing well and I should be slowly getting back to normal. I can’t exercise or anything, but little things like making eggs are a good start.”

“I’ll set the table then.”

They fell into the routine they’d had over the summer easily and he felt the first stirrings of hope. She would probably bring up the baby thing again, but he was prepared now. He’d spoken to Brock a bit about adoption and foster care, and they had a lot of options. They needed a little time to rebuild their relationship, but he figured a year or two would be good and they could start working on a plan then.

After breakfast, Vlad donned a hat and sunglasses in an attempt to stay under the radar and went for a run while Rachel cleaned the kitchen, promising to go slowly. By the time he got back, she’d loaded the dishwasher and the housekeeper, Vanessa, had arrived. Rachel was on the phone when he walked in, so he drank a bottle of water and went for a swim in the pool. They’d often swam together but she wasn’t allowed to do anything like that for at least another month and he wished she’d let him see her incision. She wasn’t shy in front of him, not even now, but there was still a bandage over it and he hadn’t looked closely when he’d gone with her to the doctor’s office.

When he got out of the pool, she was sitting on a chaise lounge holding a towel.

“Thank you.” He took it from her and dried off a little before sinking down next to her.

“Vlad, you can’t do this at the beginning of the season,” she said after a moment. “Please, you have to go back to hockey.”

“I have nine days until I have to check in, and if I don’t see you doing more by then, I’ll get another week.” That was a bald-faced lie, but he was damned if he’d let her know that. He didn’t want to ruin his career, but he would for her. The very worst thing that could happen would be the Sidewinders releasing him and him using the time off to get their relationship on solid ground again. Then he would get his agent to work on finding a team that was interested. Once he explained about his wife—and he planned to make her his wife as soon as she would let him—having cancer, they would understand. There would be a team out there who would cut him some slack, even if they only offered a one-year contract at first.

“Vlad.” She held out her hand and he took it in surprise. “As far as we can tell, the cancer is gone. It didn’t spread, and the lymph node they tested came back clean. They took everything to ensure the best chance they got it all and I’m cancer-free for now. All I’m doing is recovering from a physically and emotionally draining surgery. I’m not in imminent danger.”

“I know, but you need me. I see the pain and fear in your eyes and it guts me. I can’t stand to see you suffer, and the only way I can get through it is to be here with you. At least when I’m here I know you eat, you sleep soundly, and you take care of yourself. Ashleigh told me sometimes she comes after work and you never got dressed, didn’t eat anything except some yogurt and fruit. Whatever it is that’s making you hurt, I’m going to take it away.”

“You can’t,” she whispered. “Don’t you understand? What hurts me can’t be fixed. No one can give me back what the cancer took away.”

“Children.” He looked away, squinting out into the sunny horizon. “Honey, I grew up without a family. I lived in a shithole orphanage, sharing a room with twenty other boys just like me. Every summer they shaved our heads because the lice got so bad. We rarely had shoes that fit. My mother apparently stepped in later, when I was about eight. Before that, I lived in hell. Think about a little boy like me, with no one and nothing, and how much we could offer him. Love, food, toys, a warm bed… It makes me happy to think we can do that.”

“I can’t,” she said, her voice hollow and strange. “I can’t think about loving someone else’s child until I mourn my own unborn babies.”

“Oh, honey.” He reached for her and let her settle under his shoulder. She wasn’t right about everything, but she was right about one thing: No one could give her back what the cancer had taken away. He only hoped they would be able to move past it together, so they could find new dreams and face their new future together.