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.
“I WARNED YOU not to hurt her.”
Almost before Brad could register Jason’s presence in his doorway, a fist connected with his jaw hard enough to send stars shooting across his field of vision.
When he could focus again, he saw his friend shaking his hand, swearing a blue streak. “Damn you, Davis. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Brad’s jaw throbbed, pain coming and going in waves, but it didn’t hold a candle to the agony he’d endured over the last couple of days. “Is that all you’ve got, Jason? Because I’ve beaten myself up a whole lot harder than that.”
Pushing past him, his friend headed for the freezer and laid his hand across the nearest frozen item he could find. “I think I broke my damn hand.”
“There are worse things to break.”
Jason sent him a glare and then frowned. “You look like hell.”
“Yeah? Well, a right hook’ll do that to you.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
Brad tested his jaw and winced, before walking over to his friend. “Let me take a look at that hand.”
The door to the freezer slammed shut with enough force to send a gust of cold air rushing past his cheek, but Jason obediently held out his hand.
The purpling metacarpal of the middle finger caught Brad’s attention, and when he pressed near the neck of the bone, his friend hissed a breath in. “God, what the hell did you do to my hand?”
“What did I do to it?” He tried a smile and then stopped as pain radiated through his jaw. “You’re not going to be using this for a while.”
“Too bad, because I’d planned on flipping you off on my way out of town.”
His friend had every reason to be angry. Brad knew he should have called a halt long before things had gone as far as they had, but old habits died hard. He set Jason’s hand on the bar and grabbed a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. Peas that Chloe must have bought because his freezer had been empty before she’d arrived. Just like his heart.
“Here. Hold this on it while I get my keys and take you to the hospital.”
By the time Brad came back, Jason had parked his butt on the bar stool. “I can’t ride on your bike with my hand like this. Besides, we’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. My sister won’t talk to anyone, but we all know something’s wrong. Something to do with you.”
She hadn’t told them? Not that he’d expected her to blurt out every unpleasant detail but he’d figured she’d tell her parents he’d treated her badly and that she’d had enough. He’d never actually expected her to leave the city, though. She’d talked about not wanting to go back to Connecticut until the divorce was final. The fact that she’d gone anyway made him wonder how deeply he’d hurt her. Jason’s arrival added to that worry, driving salt into an already open wound.
He wasn’t about to stand here and tell his friend he’d been sleeping with his sister, although Jason had probably already figured it out. Why else would he have let fly with his fists the second he had opened the door? “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I was trying to keep her from getting hurt.”
“Yeah? Well, you didn’t do a very good job. She’s barely eating, just stares out the window. Dad thinks it’s because of Travis.” Jason adjusted the impromptu icepack, swearing again. “But I know the real reason.”
Brad swallowed. Yep. Jason knew. “And what’s that?”
“She’s in love. With you. Although I have no idea why.”
Hell. God, no.
This was what he’d been hoping to avoid. Why he’d pulled away. He tried to say something but the words caught in his throat. Stuck there.
Jason frowned, his eyes narrowing as he took a closer look at Brad’s face. “Oh, man. It’s not just her, is it? You love her back, don’t you?”
“No,
