off him as he felt around for the cup holder and fitted his mug into it.
“I’d like to hear it.” And hopefully find a way to convince him there was room in his life for love.
Despite the shadows in the car, she could see his throat work as he swallowed. “I’ll try to spare you as many of the gory details as possible—but three weeks before Easter, while I was on a routine traffic stop, I was critically injured by a drunk driver who slammed into me.”
Eve gasped. Critically injured meant he could have died.
The mere thought of that sent a chill through her.
Yet it was obvious the vibrant man beside her had made a remarkable recovery.
She touched his arm, the gesture involuntary. As if her subconscious required physical confirmation he’d survived. “What sort of injuries did you have?”
“Broken leg, shattered pelvis, fractured wrist, ruptured spleen, and head injuries. I was in a coma for six days.”
Her stomach bottomed out. That was far worse than she’d expected.
“But you recovered and went on with your life.” That was the most important fact.
“Yes—after months of rehab. For weeks, the doctors weren’t sure I’d ever walk normally again.”
“Oh, Brent. I can’t begin to imagine trying to cope with all that.”
“Neither could Karen.”
They passed under a streetlight as his comment hung in the air between them, and Eve studied the flat, rigid line of his mouth, the deep grooves denting his forehead.
“Did she . . . walk out on you?” What else could his comment mean?
The car passed back into darkness, leaving his features in shadows. “No.”
Not what she’d expected.
“So what happened?” If he’d told her this much, that direct question shouldn’t scare him away.
“When I came out of my coma, she was a basket case.” A slight quiver disrupted his previous steady, flat delivery. “Adam told me she’d spent every minute she wasn’t at work by my side, and it showed. She was pale and stressed and had already lost several pounds.”
“In other words, she loved you deeply and was devoted to you.” Eve frowned, trying to grasp the problem. “Was that bad?”
“No—but her stress never went away, despite my faster-than-expected recovery.”
She was still missing the issue. “Explain that.”
He let out a slow breath and hung a right onto the entry ramp for I-64 east, toward downtown. “She had concerns about a host of potential complications. Whether I would ever walk without assistance again. How we’d manage if I couldn’t. Would medical expenses overwhelm us? Would it be fair to bring children into a marriage with a disabled parent? Most of all she worried about how she’d live with the uncertainties of my job. Of not knowing every day when I left for work if I’d come home that night.”
All of those worries were legit. Anyone would have similar questions and qualms in that situation.
What wasn’t he telling her?
“Those concerns seem valid to me.” She worked hard to keep her tone conversational rather than critical.
“They were—but her anxiety was excessive. She ended up resorting to pills to help her get through the day. This was a woman who had a responsible job, juggled multiple balls without missing a beat, and always had her act together.”
“Resorted to pills as in . . . addiction?”
“Yeah.”
Okay. That could freak a guy out.
But there was more. He hadn’t yet told her the key problem.
“I can see where that would be disconcerting for you. Did she get any professional assistance—counseling—to help her cope?”
“No. She told me it wasn’t necessary. In the end, as I continued to improve, she did calm down a bit and eased back on the pills as much as she could. But she also gave me an ultimatum.”
This was the missing piece—and Eve could guess how it had played out. Brent wasn’t the type of guy to succumb to threats or demands.
“What was it?”
“She wanted me to get out of law enforcement. Find a less dangerous job where my skills would be useful. She suggested I join the security department of a large company, or work for a home protection firm.”
Eve wrinkled her nose—likely the same reaction Brent had had. Passive jobs like that wouldn’t suit the man sitting in the car beside her. Nor would they be the best use of his years of street experience.
But it wasn’t hard to understand why a woman who’d watched the man she loved almost die would deliver such an ultimatum.
He looked over at her. “You’re thinking I should have caved.”
“I don’t know if caved is the right