The Surgeon She Could Never Forget
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Tina Beckett
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PROLOGUE
“WHY DO YOU have to go?” If Lyndsey Marshall asked the question enough times, surely that resolute finality she saw written on Misha’s face would change, and he’d go back to the warm, funny guy she loved so very much. He had to realize how much he stood to lose—how much they stood to lose—by his moving back to Belarus with his family. They’d just graduated from high school a week ago, had made plans for the future. One in which she’d envisioned the two of them being together forever. Having children. A home. “Surely you could get a student visa for college. Can’t you stay on your own? I’m sure your parents would understand. And my mom could let you stay with—”
“I must. My parents must get their visa situation straightened out or they could be deported and denied reentry later on. And my dad...” His throat moved as if some powerful emotion swept through him. “Maybe someday...”
His words drifted away, but all she heard was her own father’s voice five years ago telling her that he had to leave, but that they would have all kinds of fun together. But they never had. Instead, he’d started another family with another woman he’d met on one of his business trips. His calls to his daughter had been few and far between and filled with, “Hey, someday we need to...” Only those “somedays” had never materialized. His new daughter deserved his love and attention, but Lyndsey evidently didn’t.
She was never going to accept that answer again. Not from Misha. She couldn’t. Not if she was to survive his leaving.
“No. Not someday. If you leave now, it’s over between us.”
If anything, the withdrawal she’d sensed in him grew. She knew she should stop talking, but it was as if all the impotent rage she’d felt when her dad left came boiling out, pushing words she’d never be able to retract past the ball in her throat. She knew she wasn’t being fair, but the hurt in her was so big. So overwhelming.
God, if he left her too...
But he’s going to. You know he is.
He reached out to touch her, but she batted his hand away trying not to break down like she’d done five years ago when her father broke the news to her. If he touched her, she’d be lost. She’d fall apart, just like she had back then.
This time she wasn’t going to be staring at her cell phone for days and months on end willing it to ring. Willing him to come back. If he was going to leave, she wanted it to be a clean cut that might at least have a chance to heal.
“Please, Misha...” She drew a deep breath. “Leave if it’s what you have to do. But don’t prolong it. Don’t call me. Don’t contact me. Just...” her arms waved in the air like an injured sparrow. “...don’t.” The word ended on a sob before she could press her hand to her mouth to contain the sound.
She leaped out of the car and ran up her front driveway, never looking back. Pushed through the front door, slamming it behind her as she bolted up the stairs to her room, vaguely hearing her mother calling to her. But she didn’t stop. She kept running, mentally, long after she’d thrown herself onto the bed, sobbing in earnest until no more tears came, only dry racking cries that hurt her chest and stole the breath from her lungs. Then she lay there, ignoring her mom’s soft knock, her mind and emotions completely numb.
After what seemed like an hour, she finally pried herself from the mattress and went to the window, hoping beyond hope that his car would still be there. That he would have changed his mind. After all, his dad was a doctor here in Lafayette. Surely he wouldn’t leave his practice behind and drag his family halfway across the world?
According to Misha, that’s exactly what he was prepared to do.
When she peered through the sheer curtains, the spot where he’d been parked was empty. As empty as her heart now was.
She didn’t know how she’d get through it, but she’d show him that she was a survivor. She’d survived her father leaving. She’d survive this too.
Only it didn’t matter. Because Misha wouldn’t actually be there to see her rise and conquer. Somehow that just made it worse.
When the light tapping on her door returned, it made her flinch, and she ground her palms into her swollen eyes to hopefully erase any sign of her tears. Except when she opened the door, her mother was there, seeing right past her smile and pulling her into the safe haven of her arms. Lyndsey promptly fell apart all over again.
But this was the last time. The last time she would shed tears for Mikhail Lukyanov. Because tomorrow she was going to get up and start gluing her shattered world back together again. One tiny fragment at a time.
