The Replacement Wife by Eileen Goudge Page B

I’m sorry.”
    In a sudden movement that startled her, he seized hold of her and crushed her to him, whispering hoarsely in her ear, “ You’re all I want. Don’t you see? Without you, nothing else matters.”
    She clung to him, fighting back tears, before reluctantly drawing back. “I love you, Edward. More than you’ll ever know. But the fact remains I have stage-four cancer. You know what that means. You know that whatever I do or don’t do, the chances of survival are next to nil.” She paused, looking him in the eye. “So I have one more favor to ask of you, my darling. And it’s a big one.”
    He regarded her warily. Probably he thinks I’m going to ask him to put me out of my misery when the time comes. But what she’d be asking of him was much more: to imagine a life without her. Nonetheless, his voice was gentle as he replied, “You know I’d do anything for you.”
    She felt a stab of guilt nonetheless. She was doing this for his own good, but he wouldn’t see it that way. “Remember what we talked about before?” she ventured.
    He nodded his head, his expression growing warier. He attempted to make light of it, though. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have any candidates lined up yet to be the next Mrs. Constantin.”
    She took his hand in hers, lacing her fingers through his and squeezing tightly. Oh, God. This was so hard. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t want you to be alone when the time comes.”
    “I told you I’d keep an open mind. What more do you want?” he replied testily.
    “I want to be the one to find her for you.”
    He stared at her, wearing the same look of horrified disbelief Holly had worn when Camille had shared the idea with her, only with an overlay of anger. Finally, he exploded, “What is this, some kind of joke?”
    Camille pressed on, “Please, just hear me out. I know how it sounds, but it’s not what you think. I’m not suggesting you . . . you take a lover. Nothing like that. I’m talking about someone who’d be a friend to you. Someone who’d help with the children. I don’t expect you to fall in love again right away. If at all,” she hastened to add at his thunderous expression. “It’s just . . . if you do end up marrying again, I want her to be special. As special as you deserve.”
    “So I’m not to be trusted to make my own decisions, is that it?”
    “I didn’t say that. It’s just . . .” Her voice trailed off.
    “This is what comes of being married to a matchmaker, I guess,” he muttered angrily. “No one’s safe from your meddling.”
    “If the situation were reversed and I came to you for some lifesaving operation, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to save me?” she reasoned.
    “I don’t see how you can compare the two.” She heard the throttled fury in his voice. “You’re talking about playing with lives, not saving one. And who the hell appointed you God all of a sudden?”
    “Would it hurt just to meet with her?”
    “ Her? You mean you have someone lined up already?”
    “No, of course not. I’d never do that without your permission.”
    “Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” he replied sarcastically.
    “Is it any crazier than us getting married when we didn’t have two nickels to rub together?” she persisted. “Everyone said we were too young, that we should wait until we were both out of school. But we didn’t listen. We were determined, even if it meant living in a fifth-floor walkup with cockroaches coming out of the woodwork and a toilet that didn’t flush properly.”
    “Stop.”
    “My point is—”
    “Just . . . stop.” His eyes flashed. “I wanted tonight to be about us .” He looked down at the jeweler’s box caught in a fold of the lap robe, then he picked it up and with a violent jerk his arm sent it sailing into the shrubbery alongside the path. When he brought his gaze back to her, she saw the hurt on his face. “Why are you so