Page 44 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

She’s open and communicative and wants a family. She told me that from the start, and I told her not to expect it from me. We were only ever fun, and we both knew it. It was always going to end one way or another, sooner or later.

I keep telling myself this all the way home, as I pull into the garage, as I walk up the stairs, as I unlock my front door, and as I step into the hot shower I had promised myself. This was never meant to last. And this is as good an excuse as any to put an end to it.

Because it’s no question to me, career or family. I choose career every time.

Water drips down my back and my chest tightens. I know my own heart. I know what is important to me. I know who I want to be.

Why am I finding this so hard?

CHAPTER 23

EMMA

We sit down for lunch and Liam meets my smile with that classic stern expression that I’ve grown to know and love over the last two months.

“How’s it going?” I ask as we settle in to eat. He’s been quiet so far, so I think he must be having a tough week. He always takes a bit of prodding to open up, but I’ve been trying hard to get him to trust me more and rely on me. It’s shaky progress, but I’m proud of him every time he does it.

He shrugs. “Same old, same old, you know? Work is work.”

“I do.” I smile, turning on the charm. There is definitely something up with him. “I don’t know what’s been happening this last week, but it feels like we’ve had all the crazies in the whole city in.”

“Same for us,” he says, and I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t.

“Tough week, then?”

Before he can answer, the waiter comes back round to check on us. Liam grunts at him, and I tell him we’re fine.

We eat in silence for a while longer, and when it becomes clear that he’s not going to say anything else, I ask him outright. “What’s on your mind?” I know him well enough by now to know when he’s keeping something from me.

He shrugs again. “Nothing much. It’s just work getting to me, that’s all.”

The rest of our conversation is just as stilted. It’s clear that he’s not going to open up, so I pivot away from that. “Anything interesting coming up this weekend?”

“Work,” he says simply, not looking up from his plate. “I took an overtime shift.”

“I’ve barely been doing any overtime lately,” I say, and start rambling to fill the conversational void. “With Phoebe getting closer to her due date, I’ve been spending every extra second with her.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, and I keep going. “And, of course, I’ve been seeing you.”

“You shouldn’t skip work for me,” Liam snaps, looking up at me with his eyes blazing. “I’m not worth that.”

The outburst leaves me speechless. I’m sure he doesn’t want me to sayYou are to mebecause this hasn’t exactly been the lunch conversation of long-term lovers. But it’s not a lie. He’s worth more than he thinks he is.

It breaks my heart to think that he doesn’t see that.

“I don’t skip work for anyone. You know that work means everything to me. I just have other people I care about too.”

A grunt is the only response I get to that, and I feel my certainty in our relationship wavering a little more. To me, this could go the whole way. I’ve been trying not to imagine it too much so I don’t get ahead of myself, but I can’t control what my brain does when I dream at night.

I can’t stop it from picturing a white dress, bells.

That evening, I text him, telling him how nice it was to see him, how sad I am that he was too busy to hang out tonight. He replies with a thumbs-up, and though I might have liked words, he was clearly tired today, and at least he reacted quickly, which is more than he’s done lately.

Why don’t we meet again sometime this week?I type with a smiley face.

He reads the message and says nothing. Perhaps he’s just thinking. I decide to give him some time, and before I know it, Phoebe has distracted me into almost forgetting all about him. Almost. I sleep on her couch that night and look at my phone again.

I’ve been left on read. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, to believe that he might have just forgotten to reply or thought he already did. But between this and the way he was with me earlier — and the way he’s been evasive from going to lunch with me this week — none of that eases the anxiety in my mind.

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