Judy Duarte: Under The Mistletoe With John Doe

“I’ve settled up with the accounting office,” he added, as if remembering her concerns about the hospital’s financial situation. “I gave them my insurance information and an address where they can send a bill for my share of the cost.”

“That’s good.” She stood as tall as her petite frame would allow, even though she wanted to crumple to the ground and bawl her eyes out.

“About the other night,” he began.

“Don’t give it another thought.” She forced a straight face, then felt it weaken when curiosity about his marital status won out. “Unless you found out that you have a wife.”

“I did at one time,” he said, “but I’m divorced.”

She felt momentarily relieved until he added, “But I’m not sure if I’m committed to anyone or not. And until…”

“I understand.” A cool breeze ruffled past her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “But for the record, I’m okay with what we did. We both needed the release.”

“Is that all it was to you?” His gaze snared hers, demanding honesty.

But she couldn’t be truthful. Not when their lovemaking had been so much more than sex to her. Not when she’d fallen in love with him.

She could kick herself for letting it happen, but she hadn’t been able to stop the inevitable.

Her rational side tried to shake some sense into her, insisting that she’d fallen in love with John Doe, a man who wasn’t real. That he and Jason Alvarez had very little in common other than the body they shared.

But boy, oh boy, what a body that had been-the olive skin, those blue eyes, that crooked grin. The broad chest, taut abs…

And now that he was standing in front of her, looking every bit like the man who’d held her in his arms, who’d kissed her senseless, who’d put dreams in her heart once again, she felt a wave of remorse at losing him and what they’d once shared, even if he-and it -hadn’t been real.

Still, her rational side popped up again, explaining why it had happened: she’d needed the respite from her troubles and worries for as long as it had lasted.

Of course, her heart wasn’t buying it.

John Doe had made her feel like a woman again, instead of a doctor. And he’d healed something deep within her, even though she should have been the one doing the healing.

And now he was leaving-as Jason Alvarez, a stranger again.

She didn’t know what to think. But the sooner she could send him on his way and get control of her life and her emotions again, the better.

“What we had together was good,” he said.

Her phony, don’t-think-I’m-not-dying-inside smile cracked a little, matching the break in her heart. “But it was never meant to last, Jason. We both knew that.”

He glanced at his feet, at the rugged work boots she’d purchased for him when he’d first gone to live on Doc’s ranch. And she wondered why he wasn’t wearing those Italian loafers and the expensive clothes he’d had on when he came to town.

For a moment, she hoped that he was taking a little bit of Brighton Valley back to California with him. A little bit of…her.

But she’d better get her head out of the clouds and her feet back on solid ground.

When he finally spoke, he said, “I…uh…talked to Doc. And I told him that I lined up someone to look after the ranch until I can find someone a little more permanent to help out.”

“You know,” she said, crossing her arms to ward off the chill in the air, as well as the painful goodbye. “I had a feeling that you were a take-charge sort of guy.”

“I guess you were right.”

Funny, but being right wasn’t much consolation right now. Not while her heart was crumbling.

“There wasn’t any future for us,” she added, taking the only position available to her that wouldn’t cause her to collapse in a pathetic heap. “The only commitment I need to have right now is one to the hospital and to my patients.”

And she’d best remember that.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back,” he said. “But we can talk then. Maybe we can have dinner or…something.”

Was he trying to let her off easy? Or did “something” mean sex?

If so, she couldn’t do that with him ever again. Not when she loved him-whoever the hell he’d turned out to be.

“I’ll call you,” he said.

Sure, she thought, realizing he’d just left her with the standard last line to use on a date when the evening hadn’t gone anywhere.

She lifted her pager and glanced at the screen, as if it had vibrated unbeknownst to him. Then she offered him a wistful grin. “I’d better get back to work. It’s showtime again.”

But the only show she’d be putting on was this one, the goodbye conversation that was tearing her up inside.

“Okay,” he said. “I won’t keep you, then. But I wanted to say one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“If she asks again, I hope you’ll give your biological mother a chance.”

“Why is that?”

He shrugged. “Because I think your ex made you wary of being hurt. And because I hope this thing with us didn’t make it worse. Sometimes love and relationships deserve a second chance.”

She didn’t respond, didn’t know how to.

As they both headed back to the hospital, he veered toward the parking lot and she turned to enter the E.R.

On the way, she’d been tempted to blurt out that she loved him, that saying goodbye hurt like hell, but that she understood. And that she wished him well.

But the words jammed in her throat.

When she reached the glass doors of the E.R., she reminded herself that she had more important things to worry about than a crazy, irrational attraction to either John Doe or Jason Alvarez-like wondering if the bank would loan the hospital money to stay afloat until the end of the year. But she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder and taking one last peek at the stranger who’d first stolen her heart, then broken it.

And wishing that things were different.

Jason arrived at the Carlsbad Airport at a little after two that afternoon, where he was met by the company limousine.

He’d recognized both the corporate jet, as it had taxied down the runway and stopped to let him board in Wexler, as well as the black luxury vehicle that waited curbside to take him to his house on the beach in Del Mar.

The driver of the limo, a fiftysomething man wearing a sports jacket and a tie, seemed vaguely familiar. He stood beside the open passenger door with his hands clasped behind his back. “Good afternoon, Mr. Alvarez. Did you have a nice flight?”

Jason merely nodded as he climbed into the back of the vehicle. The trip home had been uneventful, but he hadn’t felt like talking to either of the pilots or the driver of the car. Leaving Texas had been far more unsettling than he’d expected it to be.

Maybe because that meant leaving Betsy.

After Jason settled into the L-shaped backseat, the driver shut the door, then circled the car and climbed behind the wheel. Before driving off, he looked over his shoulder to peer through the glass panel that separated them. “Where to, Mr. Alvarez?”

“My house. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

Good, because Jason wasn’t sure he could find it just yet.

“Your brother gave me a spare key,” the driver said. “He didn’t think you’d be able to get in without it.”

“He was right.”

They drove out of the airport and turned right, heading toward the entrance to Interstate-5.

“I’ll bet it’s good to be home,” the driver said.

Jason didn’t respond. The whole trip had been complicated.

He’d been afraid that his leaving would hurt Betsy as badly as it had him, but she’d taken it much better than he’d anticipated.