“How long do I have to wait?”

“Get to Bleekman’s—”

“I’m already here.”

“Then hang tight. I’ll call you when I hear back from the judge’s office.”

“Thank you.” Taylor hung up the call, but held on to the phone. He watched the building like a hawk. When she was released, he wanted a quick getaway, so he moved his car up a row closer and into the end parking spot. The phone rang and he answered immediately, hearing what he wanted. “You’re clear. Go get her.”

Taylor hung up and tossed the phone into the cup holder. Running to the gate, he stopped when he saw the doctor coming out of the building. “Mr. Barrett, you do not understand the damage you are doing. We got off on the wrong foot, but I’m asking you now to leave her.”

“Get my wife!” He pressed the button and the receptionist didn’t answer. She just buzzed him in. Thank goodness for earlier charms.

Dr. Conroy looked annoyed when he heard the gate buzzed open without his permission. Turning back, he had his hands up as Taylor came toward him. “I’m begging you to let her stay another day or two. She’s a very sick woman.”

Taylor ignored him and continued walking straight inside. Maxine, the receptionist, stood up and smiled. “Down hall three. Room six.”

He never paused and started to run. The doctor was calling after him, but he didn’t care. Jude was his only goal. Until the doctor said, “Judith is confused. She kissed me. She begged me for more. Are you willing to be responsible for a woman who can’t even tell the difference between you and me?”

With his hand on the door, he looked back. It took all his willpower to stay focused on getting Jude out of here. How dare he talk about Jude as if she means nothing, as if she wasn’t Taylor’s every waking thought. He wanted to end him, but kept his mission on Jude. “She would never confuse us. You have done nothing but hurt her and I will do nothing but protect her. She knows me not by sight, but by heart.”

Nothing prepared him for seeing the room cradled in blackness. His heart started beating and he felt for a light switch. When he didn’t find one, he leaned back and saw it just outside the door. “Jude,” he called softly before flipping it on.

Her body was in a tight ball on the mattress in the corner. She didn’t move.

Walking in, he heard the doctor behind him. “This is unorthodox and can ruin her treatment.”

“Back away from us.”

“I don’t have to allow this.”

Taylor turned, his body heaving, his hands fisted. “Get away from me. Get away from her. That is your final warning.” His anger steamrolled the doctor making him take three steps back.

Even with the shouting, Jude didn’t move. Taylor bent down, his anger morphing into heartbreak, and whispered, “Jude? Baby, it’s me. Hazel. Can you hear me?” No covering on her. No sheets on the mattress. Hostility mixed with unease in his stomach. Hate for the man behind him mixed with sadness for the woman in front of him. How could they treat my Jude like this? How could they treat anyone like this? He touched her shoulder lightly and could feel her body shivering. His hand moved slowly over her shoulder and to her head. “I’m going to pick you up. Okay, Jude?”

Still no response.

Taylor scooped her into his arms. Her breath hit his neck as he held her close. He got up and walked toward the door with no fear of the doctor or the two orderlies standing by. Taylor walked right past them and to the desk. “Where are her things?”

Maxine put a large clear Ziploc bag on the counter that contained her lavender dress, her shoes, and her two rings. With a sympathetic smile, she said, “That’s all she had.”

He nodded, unable to speak. The tragedy of their love gripped his heart and strangled his words. As he walked to the front doors, a nurse ran up and opened it.

The nurse seemed to understand his silence, and whispered, “She’s going to be okay. I checked on her vitals less than an hour ago.”

Taylor didn’t trust any of them. Their care seemed to be to torture the patients and see who survives. Walking ahead of him, the nurse opened the gate for them as if this somehow made a difference. How could she leave Jude in a place like that and feel pride in her job. For fuck’s sake. That room would haunt him, so he could only imagine the fear Jude felt. He turned sideways. Jude, with her eyes closed, had stopped shaking, and whispered, “I told them you would come for me.”

His lips pressed to her head, and he said, “Always.”

The nurse opened the passenger door when Taylor unlocked the car with the key remote. He set Jude carefully inside. When he stood up, the nurse handed him a bottle of water. “Make sure she drinks lots of liquids and she needs to eat in the next hour or so. If you need anything, my name is Lacy.”

“I won’t need anything from this place,” he bit, a warning in his tone. He left her standing there with the bottle still in her hand. His hand began to shake as he went through the motions of buckling in his half-conscious wife. He could tell it was from anger this time, not his illness.

While he buckled himself, he glanced over at her—frail, lifeless, pale—not his Jude at all, and yet, this is what her family preferred? Ordered up for her destiny? How could they do this to their own daughter? How could they do this to anyone and sleep in their ivory tower so peacefully?

He started the engine and backed out of the space. He wanted his wife back and he would do whatever it took to bring back her smile. Getting the hell away from the hospital was a good start, and he floored it, speeding away as fast as he could.

When the sign for the hospital was long gone, Taylor touched her gently and whispered, “We’ll be home soon, my love.”

THE CAR CAME to a stop on a dirt road concealed beneath tall trees on both sides. Jude slumped to the side before righting herself. She looked over at Hazel in the driver’s seat next to her and smiled. It was feeble, but it represented her whole heart.

He put the car into park and turned to her. “Hey there.”

“Hi.”

Her voice was slightly hoarse either from dehydration or shouting. He wasn’t sure and didn’t want to ask. Handing her his water, he said, “Drink. I can tell you’re dehydrated.”

She took a few small sips, then looked out her window. “I’m gonna go… out there.”

“I can take you somewhere else. I just thought—”

“This is fine.” She reached for the bag of clothes in the back seat and Taylor ran around to open the door for her. Jude took his hand and stood up. Their bodies came together, and she fell into his arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He held her. He held her so tight he didn’t know if he was holding her up or if she was holding him. It didn’t matter either way. They were together again.

Jude stepped away with her head lowered. When she looked up into his eyes, she requested, “Don’t look at me like that anymore, okay? I can survive anything they do to me at Bleekman’s. I can survive anything my family puts me through. But I cannot survive knowing I’ve dulled your impossible eyes.”

Putting on a smile just for her, he said, “Okay.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to always hide his inner turmoil from her, but he would hide it from her today.

He added, “I packed clothes for you.”

“The dress will do,” she replied, holding up the bag.

Leaning against the car, he watched as she walked into the woods, just behind some large trunked trees. He looked away, giving her privacy, though the thought of her needing privacy from him stung.

Minutes later, she returned looking more herself already. She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him lightly, then said, “It’s amazing what a pretty dress can do for your attitude.” She twirled, not as fast as usual, but enough to make her smile, and more than enough to make him.