when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.’”
Alex had chosen this poem deliberately. Even with her scrambled brains, it’s meaning was clear. True love–their love, was deep enough that circumstances, unkind words, or age would not disrupt it. He was right. They would work out their issues.
His silken voice continued, softer now as her eyelids fluttered closed.
“‘Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.’”
He kissed her tenderly on her head before she slid into oblivion. “I love you, sweet Sarah.”
Dressed and anxious to leave, Sarah sat on the hospital bed, waiting for Dr. Smithwick to release her. Her head still ached, and although she had to turn her head slowly to prevent the room from dipping crazily around her, she was ready to get out of the hospital.
Alex gathered the myriad bouquets of flowers and balloons that arrived during her short stay here. Ann, Becca, Lady Clara, her former colleagues, the cast and crew, and Michael all sent the customary flowers or balloons. Brooke sent nothing.
Her agent, who according to Alex stayed long enough to determine Sarah was going to be okay before catching a flight a day late for her meeting in Hong Kong, gave her a bottle of fine Cognac. Leave it to Elizabeth to break the mold when giving a get well gift, or any gift for that matter.
For her last birthday she’d given Sarah a tandem parachute jump. As if Sarah would ever voluntarily jump out of a perfectly good airplane.
“Good morning, Ms. Edwards. It appears you are eager to leave us.” The effervescent Dr. Smithwick approached the bed, looking at her meager belongings gathered on a cart. “I can’t imagine why,” he said blandly. He picked up her chart, looking it over before turning to her. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Like I’ve been hit by a train rather than just having hit the floor of one.”
“And the head?” he asked, pointing out the most serious injury, since she hadn’t.
“It aches, but I’ll live.”
“Glad to hear that you’ll live. Always like to have my prognosis confirmed.” He smiled. “You’re free to go, but you have some limitations.
“First: rest, rest, rest. Second: stay away from aspirin, ibuprofen, or other anti-inflammatory drugs. Tylenol is the ticket. Third: avoid vigorous activity for at least two weeks. No aerobics, running, or other activities that may bounce your brain around. Finally, if any of your symptoms return, seek medical attention immediately.”
Before Sarah could respond, Alex spoke, “Thank you Dr. Smithwick. I’ll make sure she follows all of your instructions.”
She rolled her eyes before she realized that made her dizzy. She swayed a little on the bed, but caught herself before either Alex or Dr. Smithwick could change their mind about springing her.
“Goodbye, Sarah. Take care.” Dr. Smithwick gently shook her hand before leaving. “Lord Rutherford.”
“I’ll bring the car around and see you out front.”
“I’ll be the one in the wheelchair,” she said as the nurse wheeled it into the room.
They both helped Sarah from the bed, steadying her as she turned to sit in the chair. Alex leaned down and kissed the top of her head before he left.
The nurse leaned over and whispered, “Is that Lord Rutherford, the actor?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a very lucky girl.”
“Yes, I am.”
Chapter 10
“Can I get you anything?” Alex asked as he plumped the pillows behind Sarah’s back. They’d just returned from the hospital to the Knightsbridge apartment.
“Yes. You. You can please stay with me. I want to talk—”
“Sarah—”
“No. We’ve put this off long enough. Sit. Please.”
He unwillingly sat on the bed next to her, his eyes wary, his lips drawn into a straight line.
“Alex, why didn’t you tell me about the movie? When were you planning to tell me?”
“There were so many times I’d resolved to tell you, but circumstances would always interfere. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t find the right time. It was wrong of me, and I’m so sorry if I hurt you. It was never my intention.”
He looked deeply into her eyes, and she knew he was sincere.
He reached up, gingerly cupping her face in his hands, as tears filled his eyes. “Oh God, Sarah.