Page 27 of Blessings in Disguise

“Stay here. We’ll talk it out.”

“Not a good idea. I’ll call you.” After he processed this.

“Okay. But if you hear from Harlan, let me know.”

“Of course.”

On the drive home, the image of Gemma with another man plagued him. Added to his worry over Harlan, he could barely contain it.

What did you expect? That she’d lived like a nun?

Damn it, God. Leave me alone.

Never.

Hell, he was so confused that he fell back into thinking those messages came from God.Stop it right now,Shepherd.

Caleb reached his house and tried to leave the evening in his car. He got inside, went to his office, sat at his desk, then called up his notes on his last few patients.

But he couldn’t concentrate. He knew it was dangerous to his well-being to wallow so he picked up his phone to call Maisy. And put it right back down. He’d ruin her night. And Jackson’s. Besides, they were worried about Harlan, too. He tried the boy’s number for the hundredth time. No answer.

Then he remembered his counselor’s advice to write in his journal when he felt stuck. So he took out the leather-bound book he’d bought for this purpose. He felt stupid when he began to write, like a teenage girl pouring out her heartbreak, but he kept going. And soon, he lost himself in the activity.

* * *

Gemma walked around the pool distraught. First off, the nagging sensation of Harlan’s situation was more important than Caleb’s accusations. She tried to tell herself that they’d hear from Harlan soon. And she told herself she could get over Caleb, that she hadn’t known him very long. But she kept going back to being with him—in bed and out.

“Arrgh!” She whipped off her coverup and dove into the deep end. The water was warm from the heat outside. She did a few laps, the waves following her.

When she was ready, she climbed up the ladder in the deep end and wrapped a fuzzy pink towel around her. She checked her phone which sat on the table. No calls about Harlan. Hell. Where was he? She stuck the cell in her pocket, picked up her drink and went into her house. She caught sight of the brown paper bag that contained their meal for the night. Scents of chicken and soy sauce wafted up to her.

“What the hell?” She got out her chopsticks and opened a carton. She ate standing up at the counter and finishing her G&T. When she was full, she fished out the other carton to put in the fridge, then caught sight of the fortune cookies. She unwrapped one. Read the message inside.

Go after what you truly want.

“Shit.” She’d already tried that.

Worry followed her when she went upstairs, where she changed into a sleeveless white islet nightgown with a ruffle at the bottom and opened the bedroom window. She tried to let the heat of the day warm her, to let the crickets’ nightly song cheer her up. “Damn him.”

Her computer pinged from the desk across the room. She flew to it. The missive was from Caleb.

Dear Gemma,

I’m sorry if me leaving tonight upset you. I’ve done some writing about you, what happened tonight and my feelings about our whole relationship. My conclusion is that I did exactly what I’ve been avoiding since I left my church. Since the bombing.

I never wanted to get close enough with anyone who could hurt me. I threw myself into my work, into remodeling the house with Maisy, into starting a practice.

I know what this says about me. I tell my patients to never run away from their feelings. And yes, I’m a hypocrite because all I want to do now is run away. It’s hard enough that I love Maisy and Jackson. But I can’t take any more risks like I did with you. I’m sorry if you’re hurt, Gemma, but it’s over between us.

I’ll keep you posted about Harlan. No news yet.

Caleb

Gemma dropped down into the chair. She wasn’t shocked by his decision. She knew, sheknewall alonghe wanted to avoid entanglements. She’d apologized for pushing him that day at lunch.

Unfortunately, knowing that didn’t help.

She put her folded arms on the desk and her head on top of them. And cried. Over Caleb. And over Harlan.

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