Читать книгу Hot Single Docs Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 97

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“CLARA SERRANO’S TWINS are still hanging in there.” Happiness bubbled through Chloe as she caught at Brad’s hand in the empty elevator.

She’d stepped into it at the last second after she’d seen him round the corner and press the button. She hadn’t seen him since that morning, and she wanted to talk to him. To see if that kernel of hope had any soil to cling to.

“I heard.” He answered her statement by crossing his arms over his chest in a way that forced her to let go of his hand. He stared straight ahead.

She frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” His voice was calm, but even so...

Was he going back to the whole not mixing personal and professional stuff? She’d thought they’d already worked through that. “There’s no one else in the elevator.”

Brad nodded at the small camera mounted in the corner.

So he was worried. It wasn’t like that image was broadcast to the whole hospital or anything.

They reached the ground floor, and the elevator doors opened. Brad waited for her to get out then followed her. “I’m going to be working late for the next several nights, so don’t wait up.”

The words sent a warning through her head that she chose to ignore. “Anything I can help with?”

“No, I just have to catch up on some things.”

She blinked. Not much of an explanation. Something came to her. “Is it your father?”

“No. Just hospital business.” He glanced to the left as if impatient to get away.

Chloe swallowed, trying not to see things that weren’t there. Brad was not Travis. Working late did not mean the same thing it had in her marriage.

Except she and Brad weren’t married. They’d never made any vows, hadn’t promised to be faithful to each other for ever. Only for as long as their time together lasted. Maybe he was ready for it to be over and was hoping she could take a hint.

“I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes. Can you make it back to the apartment on your own?”

Her lungs burned as she tried to draw a slow, careful breath. “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

As he nodded and walked quickly down the nearest corridor, Chloe wondered if she really would be.

Over the next several days a troubling pattern emerged. Brad came home late at night and left before she got up in the mornings. She suspected he might even be sleeping on the sofa in his office and coming home just to shower and change clothes. She saw him in passing on the fourth floor, but he always seemed to be headed in the opposite direction.

A chill went through her, and it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out he was avoiding her. She was back to sleeping in the guest room, and this time there was never a knock on the door. Never a hint that he wanted that to change. Thinking back to the last time they’d made love, despite the urgency she’d sensed in him, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d planned on that being their last time together. Her treatment had run its course, and he was ready to move on to the next patient.

Shuffling some papers at the nurses’ station, she jumped when Ginny’s voice came from her left. “You okay, honey? You’re looking a little pale today.”

The nurse sat in the seat next to hers. Chloe wasn’t sure what to say. Talking to her about Brad was out of the question. But she was going to have to make a decision because she couldn’t go on like this.

“I’m fine.” Chloe closed her eyes for a second or two. “No, I’m not, actually. I need to get some fresh air. Can you cover for a few minutes?”

Ginny glanced at her watch. “You’re only a half-hour away from finishing your shift. Why don’t you go on home?”

“Thanks. I think I will.” Impulsively, she leaned over and gave the other woman a hug. “You’ve been incredibly nice to me. Thank you.”

“Hey, it’s not like you’re going away for ever. Are you working tomorrow?”

“No, it’s my day off.” Her mind tried not to look more deeply at Ginny’s words. It’s not like you’re going away for ever.

“Go home and get some rest, then. I’ll let Brad know.”

As if he’d care. She should probably hunt him down and demand to know what was wrong, but deep in her heart she already knew. Asking for verification—or, worse, begging him to change his mind—would just make her seem needy and desperate. Just like she’d been when she’d gone to Travis’s hotel room.

She rode the elevator to the ground floor and made her way into the heat of the afternoon. The park across the street beckoned to her and she headed for it, glancing at the bench where she’d drunk coffee several times. The air was warm and muggy but she needed to think before getting on that subway and riding home to Brad’s empty apartment.

As she wandered down the nearest path, trying to figure out what was going on with her...and with Brad, her mother’s words came back to her, whispering a plea that she couldn’t ignore. “Don’t let anyone do that to you again. Not even Brad.”

That wasn’t what forced her to a decision, though, it was her response to her mother’s statement that did. “I won’t. I promise.”

If she stayed here one more day, she’d be breaking that promise.

Her eyes filled with tears but she stood up straighter and pulled in a long deep breath. She may have been like an ostrich for the last few days, but she’d just lifted her head and taken a good look around. She was finally ready to take the hint. And as much as she didn’t want to go back to Connecticut, that’s where her family was. Not here in New York.

She’d allowed one man to pummel her heart into the ground. That was not a mistake she was going to repeat with anyone else.

Not even Brad.

Sitting on a nearby bench, she rummaged around in her purse for a pen and a piece of paper. Then with a sick heart and dry eyes she began to write.

* * *

Brad dropped into his office chair and scrubbed an exhausted hand across his face. He couldn’t go on like this for ever without it eventually affecting his patients. He was going to have to face the music and do the deed. He’d broken things off with women before and, though it was never fun, it was always followed by a sense of relief. Certainty that he’d done the right thing.

So why couldn’t he dredge up that certainty now?

Because he’d never loved any of the other women he’d dated.

Dragging in a breath, he decided to go home early. Chloe could stay with him until she found another place to live. He had some contacts in the city...so why hadn’t he used them before now?

Because deep down he didn’t want her to leave. But he knew that was what was best for both of them.

Reaching for his phone, he stopped short when he spied an envelope lying in the center of his desk...addressed to him. It was a hospital billing envelope so it wouldn’t ordinarily raise an alarm, except for the neat, dainty letters printed in blue ink on the front of it. A stream of foreboding slid up his spine.

He planted his hand on the offending object and dragged it towards him.

Don’t open it.

Ignoring his subconscious, he turned the envelope over and started to reach for his letter opener before he saw there was no need. The flap wasn’t sealed. It was loose, allowing a peek at the sheet of paper inside. Pink. Feminine.

The foreboding grew.

Katrina had left an envelope very much like this one. But all he’d felt then had been irritation that she’d left him in the lurch.

The urge to pick up his phone and get hold of his doorman was strong—he could ask him to make sure Chloe didn’t leave the building before he got home. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat there for several moments, staring at that sheet of paper, the slight ticking of his black office clock keeping time with his thudding heart.

Well, hell. Sitting here wasn’t going to change anything. He slid the paper from the envelope and opened it. When he’d finished reading, his hand slowly turned into a fist, crushing the paper, along with all his hopes and dreams.

She’d beaten him to the punch. He should be glad she’d let him off the hook. No hard talks. No trying to let her down easily.

But way down inside him was a deep-seated emptiness that no one would ever be able to fill again.

Because Chloe was gone.