Anna's Secret

made for easy conversation, she averted his stare.
“Me too. It’s that kick for many a long day.”
Like the tendrils of steam lazily wafting into oblivion, she allowed the awkward moment to dissipate. Steven came to mind, and sadness permeated her again.
“Do you take cream and sugar?” Her voice dropped a notch as heaviness settled on her heart.
“Nope, straight up.”
When she headed his way with two mugs, his expression held only warmth and friendship. Her stiff shoulders relaxed as she eased back onto the stool. A comfortable silence filled the room as she clutched the brew with both hands and lifted the cup to her lips. The rich, full-bodied taste did not disappoint.
“Anna, how are you really?” His voice grew soft and gentle.
She set her mug down with a thud. A splash of hot liquid landed on her hand, but she barely noticed.
“I hate that question, Matt. It’s everyone’s go-to question these days. How am I supposed to answer that?”
“Give me the truth.”
Anna lifted her gaze. His eyes radiated genuine care. The door of her heart creaked open.
Matt wouldn’t let go. “You must miss him a lot?”
She looked away, ashamed of the truth.
“Honestly, Matt … I hurt for so many years before his death. Now when it’s time to receive sympathy as a grieving widow, I feel like a fraud.”
He reached across the island and touched her hand, then immediately pulled back. “How so?”
“It’s so hard to explain. As much as we loved each other, that illness drove a wedge between us. We became everything but husband and wife. Sadly, even our friendship waned as he slept hours and seemed far more content with the company of the television than me.”
Matt nodded. “I’ve heard this happens. It doesn’t mean you loved him less; it just means you loved differently. Long term care alters relationships.”
She let out a sigh. “I grieve more for what should’ve been, than what I lost … that grief was done years ago. I feel guilty just thinking about it.”
“Anna, you and Steven were one of the most loving examples I’ve ever witnessed, and over such an incredible long haul.”
“But you don’t know what I did to survive. The choice to feel nothing was safer than the perpetual emotional upheaval. I put up walls … I fulfilled my duty … I loved but from a safe distance. In the end, we were almost strangers.” Her voice faded to a whisper. The heat of a blush worked its way from her throat to her hairline. Why did I speak so freely?
Matt remained quiet for a moment, then rose slowly. “As your friend, may I suggest a colleague of mine who comes highly recommended?” He reached in his pocket, pulled out a card and slid it across the counter. “It’s one of the reasons I stopped by. I thought maybe you’d need someone to talk to. She is offering her services at no charge for as long as you need.”
“What?” She stared at the card. “Why free?”
“Her sister was really sick, and I—it doesn’t matter. We’re friends, and all you need to know is that her name is Susan Jenkins and she’s at the top of her profession. Grief counseling is her specialty.”
Anna couldn’t believe his kindness.
“I’ll go now. But promise me you’ll see Susan?” He slipped on his coat. “Promise.”
She nodded.
“Oh, and I’ll leave my cell number.” He walked back to the counter, pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, and slipped the card from her fingers. In a bold scrawl, he penned out his name and number. “Just in case you need a friend. And I mean that.” He held her gaze.
Anna could feel a palpable intensity. She glanced away to ease the sensation his piercing blue eyes created in the pit of her stomach. One look at the card and a smile broke through. “I see you live up to a doctor’s standard. Your handwriting is atrocious.”
He smiled, stamping that beautiful dimple back into place. “Yep and proud of it!” He sauntered to the door and closed it behind him.
Why am I noticing details … things I’ve never seen before … like the breadth of his wide shoulders? The sound of his rich baritone laughter … something this old house has not heard in a long time.
Anna walked to the window within the safety of the shadows, and watched him drive away. There was a part of her that was sad to see him go. She enjoyed his visit, maybe a little too much. The sound of his deep voice echoed in her ears.
Thoughts of Steven pushed in, and guilt surged. I shouldn’t be thinking of Matt that way, I just buried my husband, for heaven’s sake.
Matt needed a wheel chair on the fifth floor and never waited for an orderly to do what he could do himself. He grabbed the extra one on floor two and made his way down the hall to the elevators. He felt the vibration of his phone yet again and slipped his hand into his pocket to pull it free. With a glance down, he almost ran into a colleague.
“Hey, Carmichael … no texting while you drive.”
Matt looked up and laughed. “Sorry, buddy.”
“You can buy me a cold one after work as an apology.” They laughed in passing.
Not at all surprised to see yet another message from Tamara, he regretted the day he gave her his private number.
Why won’t she take no for an answer? And when will my obvious lack of interest get through? Try as he might, he could never go back to the way things had been with her. It took no more than a fleeting thought of Anna to reinforce the difference of what had been to what he now longed for.
He hit the elevator button with a bang of his fist as an all too familiar hunger cut through.
Idiot. What kind of fool offers friendship when …? He refused to let his mind formulate words.
Anna’s too fragile. She needs time to grieve and