Page 84 of Catnip, Claws, and Chaos

“Huh?” He waves a hand at me. “Nothing. You're right, it's been a... strange day. I'm just a little distracted. Forgive me.”

“If you want to talk about it—” I start.

“No,” he hastens to say, setting his glass down with a sharp click. “You know, patient confidentiality and all that.” His fingers drum against the table.

“Sure, okay.” I lean back, giving him space. It's odd, especially for Stephen, who's usually so open with me. His shoulders are tense, and the lines around his mouth are deeper than usual. But if he doesn't want to talk about it, I have to respect his wishes.

The waiter arrives with my beer.

“Now,” Stephen says, changing the subject, “why'd you drag me out here?” His eyes focus on me as if my problems might distract him from whatever's eating at him.

I open my mouth, but the words get stuck. “I screwed things up with Emily,” I finally get out.

Stephen shifts in his seat. “Your receptionist? The one crashing at your place?”

“Yeah. Remember when her friend dumped a drink on you at the bar?” I wince at the memory. “Things got messy after that.”

“If you'd asked me, I would've told you sleeping with your roommate slash receptionist was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, well...” Then it hits me. “Wait, how'd you know we had sex?”

He clears his throat and shrugs. “It's pretty obvious you like her. Just a guess.”

“Well, you nailed it, and now?—”

“Let me guess, it's complicated.” His voice softens.

“Yep.” I sigh. “Really complicated.”

“So this is about Emily?”

I nod stiffly. My chest tightens when I think about her, her smile, and how her eyes light up when she laughs. “I think I messed up.” Saying it out loud hurts like hell.

“You gonna explain or should I spend the night playing twenty questions?”

“Sorry, you're right. You know Emily's staying at my place. One thing led to another and?—”

“You hooked up,” Stephen finishes with a hint of a smile.

“Yup.” I take another gulp of beer. “It was great. She's beautiful, fun, a little weird sometimes, but...” I shake my head, feeling like an awkward teenager. “It was really good.”

“Why're you talking like it's over?” Stephen pulls me back to reality.

I shrug, feeling defeated. “Guess it is.”

“Do you love her?”

My eyes go wide, and beer goes down the wrong pipe. I start coughing. “What? No! Hell no!” The denial comes automatically. Love means getting hurt. I learned that lesson years ago.

“Okay,” he says evenly. “So what's the problem?”

“What's the problem?” I snap, then lower my voice. “Emily wants more than I can give her. I'm too screwed up, Stephen. She deserves better.” My knuckles turn white around my glass. “She deserves someone who can give her a family and a future. Not someone who'll wreck her life.”

“I agree.” His words sting worse than I expect.

“Thanks, man. You're a real asshole sometimes,” I growl. Didn't expect that from him of all people.

“Look.” He sighs, softening. “I get it. You like this girl. But you're right. If you don't love her and can't give her more, lether go.” He pauses, studying me. “Just... before you make a snap decision, figure out if that's really what you want or?—”

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