like the dress had just made him aware how attractive she was.
He’d already realized. And noticed. More than once. And was now wishing like hell that he hadn’t.
Carly hung the dress next to the three bridesmaids’ dresses. She was really glad it had worked for Esther. She and Harry made a great couple. And it wasn’t like Carly was jonesing for a white dress with frothy layers. Not anymore. Thank God she’d never gotten around to actually purchasing her own during her engagement. She’d been too busy structuring her life around getting pregnant.
No, she was happy that some of her childhood and university friends were finding the love of their lives.
Did Kyle’s exit from her life mean there was no one special for her? Her heart twinged, but nothing stronger than that, which was good after all that had happened. Maybe she’d been more in love with the idea of marriage and a family than in love with him, which in retrospect made her realize that marrying him would have probably been a huge mistake.
She had a full life. Maybe Carly was more like her mom—who’d worked hard to raise her after her father’s untimely death—than she realized. Her mother had never remarried and seemed to find her fulfillment in her work. She was independent to a fault.
Like Carly? Probably. But it served her well now. She didn’t need anyone else’s company. At least not permanently. For the first time since the breakup, she realized she was free. Free to do what she wanted with her life, with no interference from anyone. Free to make her own choices about who to sleep with and when.
She glanced at the blue dress, once again seeing the surprise that had splashed across Adem’s face when he’d realized it was hers. Oh, how she wished he really could see her in it.
Not going to happen, Carly.
She closed the door with a firm click. If all went well with Esther, it looked like Carly might be adding another dress to her collection before too long. And her other friends from university? The ones who still weren’t attached?
She and Izzy Nicholson had met at the international school, along with Raphael Dubois, who was one of the hospital’s obstetricians, while she knew Esther McDonald and Chloe Larson from the midwife track at university. Life had sure given all of them some twists and turns. Chloe had a three-year-old daughter now. School had cemented their bond, and they’d all remained close over the years.
It made her glad of the decision to remain in the UK and build her life here.
Her mind swung back to Adem. They had at least two things in common. They were both in England because of their parents. And they’d both decided to stay here as adults.
So did lots of people. She’d worked at the clinic for a year now—ever since her breakup—and Adem had been there ever since Victoria Clinic opened five years ago. He’d done her interview, in fact.
Ha! That interview process had been kind of agonizing actually. His dark good looks had made it hard to think, even as he asked questions about her experience, her right foot doing a little dance as he’d detailed the job requirements. She’d had to uncross her legs to make it stop. At the time, she’d chalked it up to the stress of having her relationship implode in her face.
But it happened again. Several times, and when he followed her into her dreams one night, she decided maybe she’d better actively avoid him. Which had been almost impossible.
Well, she could no longer blame her reaction on her breakup, because at the meeting in the canteen, her foot had done its twitchy little best to keep pace with her heart. She’d uncrossed her legs again, planting both of her feet on the ground under the table. Her pulse hadn’t been quite as easy to control.
And to find out he found her too dull—or unadventurous—to pull off a sexy dress...
Well, if the chance ever presented itself, maybe she would have to prove him wrong.
Lord! This was ridiculous. She needed to either get past this or figure out what to do about it. Doing nothing wasn’t an option. One thing her father had taught her at an early age was to pursue something until you figured it out. It was what she needed to do now.
But how was she supposed to do that when there were these weird itchy emotions popping to the surface one after the other?
She wasn’t sure. But she’d controlled what she now called the Adem Twinges for the last year, so whatever was happening, she could just push those suckers back down until they got the hint and disappeared for good.
Her cell phone buzzed on her dresser, making her jump. She swallowed as she walked toward it.
It’s not him. He has no reason to call you at home.
She picked it up, and then frowned. Naomi Silver, one of her patients. Naomi was almost nine months pregnant and so far had had a normal pregnancy—even if the events leading up to it hadn’t been. Like Carly, Naomi had had her own fertility problems. She’d had adhesions that had kept her from getting pregnant for the last five years. She and her husband had even adopted a daughter, thinking they’d never have a biological one. And then, out of the blue, she’d gotten pregnant.
Her phone buzzed again. Naomi never called her at home, so her belly tightened.
She pressed talk. “Hello?”
There was no sound, except some kind of weird snuffling sound.
“Naomi? Are you okay?”
“I—I’m so scared.”
Fear struck her heart. “What’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m home.” A broken sob hit. “But my head hurts so much. I’m... Could I be having a stroke?”
Oh, God. A million possible diagnoses went through her head. Migraine. Preeclampsia. Eclampsia. Fetal demise. Her speech didn’t sound slurred, but Carly wasn’t willing to take any chances.
“Can you get to the hospital?”
“The clinic?”
She ran through the possibilities. The clinic could do C-sections in a pinch, but it wasn’t set up with an MRI or other of the more expensive diagnostic equipment. “No. The Queen Victoria.”
“Yes, I think so. My husband can bring me.”
“Good. I’ll meet you there.”
The second she got off the phone, she tore out of her yoga pants and nightshirt and dragged on a black skirt and blouse, shoving her feet into low wedged heels that she normally wore when she was at the main hospital campus. Then she gritted her teeth and did the one thing she wasn’t thrilled about doing. She called the man she’d just been trying to forget. It went to voice mail, but she left a quick message asking if there was any way he could meet her at the hospital.
And if he was with some woman?
She swallowed. Images she couldn’t banish swept through her mind.
Dammit. Now was not the time.
She
