I’ve taken leave, carer’s leave.’
‘Carer’s leave?’ she parroted. ‘Who for?’
‘My wife,’ he replied.
‘You’re married?’ He saw her glance at his ring finger. It was bare. Just as it had always been.
‘Ex-wife,’ he corrected quickly. ‘We’re divorced.’ Their marriage had hardly been a textbook one but even now he struggled with the ‘ex’ part. Not because he still wanted to be married but because it was a reminder of his failings as a husband. For someone who was, by nature, a perfectionist, it bothered him that he hadn’t been able to keep a marriage together.
Ali was frowning again. ‘You’re caring for your ex-wife? Why?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I’m sure it is.’ She smiled, inviting him to tell her more. But telling her more would wipe the smile from her face. He had no doubt about that. And he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the one to make her smile disappear. If Ali was smiling he could pretend that things were fine with the world.
‘You’re not doing a very good job of explaining why you’re here.’ Ali spoke into the silence that stretched between them.
Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose and ran his thumb and forefinger out along each eyebrow, trying to ease the tension he could feel through his forehead as he summoned the strength to tell her what she was waiting to hear. He was yet to find an easy way to deliver this sentence. ‘My wife, ex-wife,’ he corrected himself again, ‘has a brain tumour.’
He was relieved when she didn’t gasp or hesitate or stammer something inane, like most people did. Being a doctor, she grasped the situation better than most. ‘What grade?’ she asked. Her question was matter-of-fact. There was no room for emotion, just the facts.
‘A GBM IV.’ He could see by Ali’s expression that she understood the poor prognosis. Her olive skin paled slightly. Ali didn’t know Julieanne, she didn’t owe her any sympathy, but Quinn could see that she felt for her. Astrocytomas were the most common primary brain tumour in adults but their characteristics and prognoses varied widely. Glioblastoma multiforme IV was a fast-spreading, highly malignant tumour. It was not the one you wanted to be diagnosed as having.
But Julieanne’s condition still didn’t completely explain his reasons for being there. ‘My mother-in-law has moved in with them,’ he continued, before Ali could ask more questions, ‘but she can’t manage to care for Julieanne and the children. I’m doing it for my kids. After all, they are my responsibility.’
‘Children?’
He’d forgotten Ali didn’t know about his daughters. Forgotten she knew virtually nothing at all about him. There was a part of him that felt as though he’d known her all his life. An idea in his head that they’d shared more than just a brief conversation many weeks ago. He nodded. ‘Two girls.’
Her shoulders relaxed as she leaned forward in her chair, closing the distance between them, letting her guard down. She stretched a hand towards him, as though to touch him, before she thought better of it. Her hand dropped into her lap and Quinn’s heart dropped with it. The movement served to highlight to him how much he wanted to feel her touch. How badly he needed to be connected to another person. To Ali.
‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’
Her response surprised him. He realised he’d expected her to ask him about the girls but instead her first response was one of empathy. He appreciated that curiosity wasn’t first and foremost in her mind. He took her empathy as a show of support. She didn’t find it strange that he would drop everything to care for his ex-wife and he had a feeling she would have been disappointed in him if he hadn’t.
Ali wanted to comfort him and she was almost tempted to reach for him before she realised that might be inappropriate. No matter how she imagined him, no matter that seeing him again made her pulse race and a bubble of excitement build inside her, the fact of the matter was they were strangers. He probably didn’t need or want her comfort.
Her own problems shrank in comparison to Quinn’s. Her own disappointment about the recent events in her own life she could, and would, overcome with time, but Quinn wasn’t going to get a happy ending to his tale and neither were his children. He had two daughters, girls who would be left without a mother, maybe not immediately but in the not-too-distant future. Ali knew how unfair life could seem at times and her heart went out to Quinn’s daughters. How would they cope with losing a parent at a young age? No matter what might have transpired between Quinn and his wife, no one deserved this.
‘Oh, Quinn, how terrible for them. I’m so sorry.’
She felt for him too. The situation must be a nightmare for him but she didn’t know him well enough to put her feelings into words. She needed time to process what he’d just told her, time to work out how to react appropriately. Shock and surprise were making it difficult to know what to say.
It was a shock to see him again. A shock too to find he was divorced and a father. Her imagination hadn’t pictured that scenario. In her dreams he was a dynamic, GI Joe type, athletic but intelligent. Daring but sensitive, and a bachelor. Most definitely a bachelor.
But some things hadn’t changed. She was still aware of a raw sexuality about him, a ruggedness, a hard, firm maleness, but there were also lines in the corners of his eyes that she didn’t remember seeing before. She wanted to reach out and smooth the lines away but she resisted the urge, sensing she would be overstepping the mark.
She searched frantically for something to say, something that would steer the conversation towards less emotional waters. ‘I still don’t understand why you want this job, though,’ she said. ‘Won’t you have enough to keep you busy?’
‘The girls are back at school now after the holidays. My mother-in-law and I will care for Julieanne in shifts and as long as I can be home when the girls are there I don’t need to be there all the time. I want to be busy. I need to be busy. I’m in Adelaide because people need me but Julieanne and I don’t need quality time together. Our marriage ended a long time ago and nothing is going to change that or change the situation.’
‘Yet you’re going to be her carer.’ The situation was unusual, to say the least.
‘Our marriage ended because of circumstances, bad timing and bad judgement, but we’ve stayed friends. We’re committed to our children. I can do this for Julieanne. I want to do it.’
It was obvious he still cared for his ex-wife. Did he still love her? Ali wondered. Not that it was any of her business but his reply confirmed her opinion of him as a strong and compassionate person and she suspected he was going to need every bit of that strength. She couldn’t think of too many other people she knew who would offer to care for an ex-partner. In contrast, she knew of many who would struggle to care for a current partner in the same situation.
‘Is Julieanne having treatment?’
Quinn nodded. ‘Radiotherapy.’
‘Is it working?’
He shrugged and his gesture reminded her of Atlas trying to balance the world on his shoulders. ‘The oncologists are not optimistic at this stage.’
‘What have they told you?’
‘That
