Not Pretending Anymore(41)
So I reluctantly nodded. “Okay. I’ll go. Call me if you need anything, Moll.”
She stepped forward and kissed my cheek. “Thanks for everything, Declan.”
My eyes caught with Dr. Dick’s, and his sparkled with victory. God, I don’t like this guy.
“Thanks, Declan.” He extended the hand that wasn’t wrapped around my girl’s back. “Take care.”
I watched as the two of them strode off together, an empty feeling churning in my stomach. At the double doors to the intensive care unit, Molly looked back and gave me a conciliatory smile. I waved and pretended everything was fine.
But it wasn’t.
After the doors closed, I realized what was fucking with my head more than anything. It wasn’t the fact that Dr. Dick had offered her help I couldn’t give. I cared about Molly enough to put her needs first and accept what was best for her. It also wasn’t the fact that he’d put his hand on her back as they walked down the hall. What freaked me the fuck out was that I’d been upset because he’d put his hand on my girl’s back.
My girl .
That’s how I’d thought of her.
But she wasn’t, was she?
Either way, I was leaving her in the hands of the guy who was supposed to get the girl all along.
CHAPTER 15
* * *
Molly
I’d missed my apartment so much.
After a few days, Dad had been released from the hospital, and I’d decided to take some time off from work and spent a week with him at his house. I knew if something happened to him, and I didn’t make more of an effort to spend time there, I’d regret it. So, I’d slept in the formerly forbidden pink bedroom.
Luckily, his condition had stabilized, and he was now back where he’d been before the fall happened. Today I was finally returning home after nearly seven days away, with the promise that I would spend the night at Dad’s again soon.
I hadn’t told Declan I was returning tonight. He was standing in the kitchen when I opened the door. I expected him to greet me with his usual cheery smile, especially given how long I’d been gone. But he didn’t even look up when I entered.
“Hey!” I said. “I wasn’t sure you’d be home.”
“Hey. Welcome back.” His smile seemed forced. “Yeah. I’m here. Wasn’t really feeling up to going out tonight.”
My stomach sank. “Is everything okay?”
He hesitated. “Yeah, everything is fine.”
I reached out to hug him, taking a deep breath of his delicious scent. The warmth of his arms felt so good, although his body was noticeably more rigid than usual. Something didn’t seem right.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said as I pulled away. “I’m definitely better off not being alone with my thoughts at this point.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything. I’d hoped he’d tell me how glad he was that we could hang out tonight, but right now I felt more like I’d disturbed his peace by coming back. In all the weeks I’d known him, Declan had never given me the impression he wasn’t happy to see me, until now.
“How was your time at your dad’s?” he asked after a moment.
I shrugged. “It was okay. Definitely glad I did it. He’s doing a little better. I know he liked having me there. Better late than never, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“I spent every waking hour with him, and when he napped, I’d go to my room and read. I didn’t really force myself to make small talk with Kayla. I did get to take my sister Siobhan out for lunch one day, and we bonded a little. She’s scared, too. I think the only thing worse than the fear of losing your dad in your twenties would be losing him as a child.”
“She’s lucky to have you for a big sister.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” I plopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
“I have so many regrets when it comes to my father, Declan.”
He took a seat next to me.
“We all have regrets in life. No one is perfect.” His expression grew somber.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
Does he not realize I can see through him? “You seem…down or something.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about me.”
“Did something happen at work?”
“No. Nothing happened.” His tone was a bit short. He let out a long breath. “I’m the last person you should be worrying about right now, okay?” Then came another forced smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Tell me about what you were saying. What specific regrets are you referring to?” He seemed intent on moving the conversation off of this issue and back to me.
I paused to examine his face again before I answered his question. “Well, I guess what I mean is, I was so young when my father left home. I didn’t understand how complicated relationships could be. I faulted him for leaving us when it was really more about his marriage to my mother not working out than him wanting to abandon his kids. He wasn’t happy. What—did I need him to stay in a loveless marriage for my sake? I don’t agree with how he handled things. But to have shut him out all these years for making the decision to put his own happiness first? In retrospect, that seems very harsh.”