The Best Of The Year - Medical Romance. Carol Marinelli
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sensitive.
But I wasn’t prepared to admit just how sensitive.
‘If you were still in love with him you would never have come to my place last night,’ he said. ‘You must’ve known what would happen between us, or are you lying to yourself now as well as everyone else?’
Of course he was right. I would never have slept with him if I’d had feelings for another man. But I was confused about my feelings for Matt. They were a jumbled mix I couldn’t make sense of right now. Was I so fickle that I could fall in love so soon after losing Andy?
I paced a couple of steps across the floor, hugging my arms close to my body. ‘I know I’ll have to tell everyone eventually … I just don’t know how to do it without looking completely ridiculous.’
‘Sometimes the anticipation of something is worse than the actual thing itself,’ he said.
I swung back to look at him. ‘So why haven’t you let everyone in on the secret?’
‘It’s not my secret to tell.’
I was used to a lifetime of being teased and exploited, of having my weaknesses and flaws broadcast publicly. The fact he hadn’t breathed a word of my single status to anyone made something warm spill inside my chest. He’d had a perfect opportunity to make an absolute fool out of me and yet he hadn’t done it. Why?
‘Want to tell me what happened?’ he said.
I let out a long breath. ‘I guess, looking back, we’d always had a pretty sketchy sex life. But then I got caught up in the wedding preparations and … well, he got caught up in having an affair with someone more … available.’ I bit my lower lip until it was mostly inside my mouth. I released it, along with a sigh. ‘It was the most embarrassing moment of my life and that’s saying something because I’ve had some doozies.’
He closed the distance between us and stroked a wisp of hair off my face. ‘My ex was having an affair too. To the guy she’s married to now. They’d been friends for years but I didn’t realise how friendly until I called on her one night unexpectedly. Simon answered the door. Not a great moment for either of us. I had to give him credit for coming up with an excuse for why he was standing there in nothing but his boxers.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He was hot.’ His mouth gave a rueful little quirk. ‘But, then, Helena obviously thought so.’
Behind the humour was lingering hurt. I could see it in his eyes. Or was he like me, and the betrayal was more of a wound to his pride and sense of honour? ‘Were you in love with her?’
His mouth twisted again. ‘I thought so at the time.’
‘And now?’
He stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. ‘You read my mother’s note.’
I gave him a sheepish look. ‘I didn’t mean to. It’s just I’m a bit of a speed-reader so I took it in at one glance.’
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to mine in a long, warm kiss that sent my senses into chaos. I reached for him automatically, stroking my fingers through his hair.
I leaned into him, relishing in the familiarity of his touch, the naturalness and ease of it.
After a few breathless moments he pulled back to look at me. ‘You didn’t stay last night.’
‘I wasn’t sure what the protocol was.’
He frowned a little. ‘What do you mean?’
I shrugged beneath the cups of his hands, which were holding the tops of my shoulders. ‘I wasn’t sure if it was a one-off or … or something else.’
His hands tightened for a moment before he relaxed them, but he didn’t let me go. ‘You want to go and grab some dinner somewhere after work?’
I bit my lip again as I thought of the implications of us being seen out in public. There was already gossip about him seeing a married woman in the hospital. I hadn’t realised until then that my lies were not just hurting me, they had the potential to hurt him. ‘Can we just get some takeaway and have it at your place?’
He gave me a levelling look. ‘The longer you leave it the worse it’s going to be.’
I dipped out of his hold and crossed the floor, hugging my arms to my body again. ‘I know. I know. It’s just not that simple.’
‘It seems simple enough to me.’ There was a thread of impatience in his voice. Hard and tight, like a fine wire under strain. ‘You just have to be honest, Bertie. People will talk for a while but it’ll eventually go away.’
‘I need more time.’
‘For what?’ he said. ‘For you to rule out the possibility your ex will come crawling back to you?’
I looked at him in affront. ‘You think that’s what’s stopping me? Really?’
His expression was marble cold. ‘Be honest with yourself, if not with anyone else.’
‘Maybe you should take a lesson from that pulpit you’re preaching from,’ I threw back.
His eyes were suddenly flinty. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
I flashed him a little glare. ‘You’ve waited for over a year to get involved with someone else. Doesn’t that suggest you’re still moping over the one who got away?’
He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets as if he was trying to stop himself from reaching for me. ‘We haven’t got a hope of this progressing past a one-night stand if you don’t tell everyone the truth about your situation.’
I drew myself up to my full height, which isn’t saying much as I barely came up to the top of his chest. ‘I’ll tell you why it won’t progress past a one-nighter. Because you won’t allow yourself to feel anything for anyone because you’re frightened they’ll pull away from you when you least expect it. You’ll never give anyone that power again, will you?’
A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘I have work to do, so if you’ve finished listing my faults, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get on with it.’
I swung away with a haughty toss of my head. Not literally. It was still firmly on my straightened shoulders. ‘Fine. I’m out of here.’
I glanced at him when I got to the door but he had already dismissed me. He was sitting behind his desk and scrolling through his emails or whatever was on his computer screen.
BY THE TIME I got home I’d cooled down, although that might have had something to do with the weather. The snow was falling in earnest and I’d heard on the news they were expecting more overnight. I didn’t fancy a long, lonely night alone and I didn’t have the enthusiasm for a session of painting and decorating. I looked around the half-painted walls and the threadbare carpets, the tired kitchen with its out-of-date appliances.
My house suddenly looked a bit like my life. A mess.
I was considering what to do about food, not that I had much appetite, when the doorbell rang. I peered through the peephole, toying with the idea of pretending not to be home if it was Margery. It wasn’t.
I opened the door and Matt stood there, with snow falling all around him. There was even some clinging to the ends of his eyelashes. He was carrying a bag with takeaway food containers in it and a bottle of wine in a brown paper bag. ‘Have we just had our first fight?’ he said.
I felt every last residue of anger melt away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No apology necessary.’ He held up his peace offering. ‘I took a gamble on food. Curry all right?’
‘Perfect