Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(104)

Phillip rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

She swallowed hard and because she found it difficult to speak she accepted his apology with a short, abrupt nod.

“I am sorry, but not for what I said, Libby,” he qualified and although his voice was soft, almost gentle, his words pierced her heart. She squinted at him, not knowing what to think.

“I’m sorry because I really believe we could have been good together.” He started toward the door.

For one paralyzing moment Libby stood frozen in the middle of her living room. Then she ran after him and grabbed hold of his hand, stopping him. She’d allowed Joe to walk away. She wouldn’t let it happen again. Not with Phillip.

“Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Please, Phillip, don’t do this.”

He reached out to her, his hand at the base of her neck, and brought her into his arms. When he kissed her it was with a locked-up passion that was almost painful in its intensity. He released her so abruptly that she stumbled backward.

“It’s over, Libby,” he said starkly. “Don’t make it harder.” He left then, leaving her stone cold and in shock.

By late the following afternoon Libby had left no fewer than six messages on Phillip’s cell. He didn’t return her calls. When she couldn’t reach him by phone she stopped off at the hospital.

“Dr. Stone took a few days of personal time,” Abby told her after she found his office locked.

“Do you know where he went?” Libby asked, trying to pretend nothing was amiss and failing miserably. She stood with her arms crossed and her heart in her throat.

“No, sorry,” Abby told her sympathetically. “We’ve missed you around here.”

“I’ve missed being here,” Libby said, and realized how true that was. “If you see Phillip, mention that I stopped by, would you?”

“Of course.”

Libby left the hospital, and sat in her car for several moments. She knew she should go back to the office. She’d gotten several stares when she’d walked out without an explanation. They would expect her back, but Libby had somewhere else she needed to go. Someone else she needed to see.

When she parked in front of Ava’s house she saw Jackson practicing free throws off the hoop in the Armstrongs’ driveway. He paused when he saw her and stared as if she were an alien who’d stepped out of a spaceship.

Libby walked up to the front porch and rang the doorbell.

Ava answered and immediately her eyes brightened as she threw open the screen door.

Libby opened her arms and Ava walked into her embrace, hugging her so tightly that it hurt Libby’s ribs.

“I’ve missed you so much,” the teenager whispered. “I never see you anymore.”

“I should have come sooner,” Libby whispered as she ran her hand down the back of the girl’s head. “I’m sorry, so sorry, but I’m here now. Let’s go someplace and talk. Just you and me.”

“Okay,” Ava breathed on the tail end of a sob. “Just you and me.”

Chapter 39

Libby didn’t hear from Phillip all weekend, although she clung to the hope that he would return her calls. By Saturday night she was an emotional disaster. Convinced that she’d lost him the same way she had lost Joe, Libby cuddled up on the sofa, wrapped a blanket around her body, and hibernated the rest of the day, watching the Food Network and reruns of Law & Order.

Phillip was gone. He’d basically told her not to pursue him. For him there was no turning back; the decision had been made. He was through, and no amount of reassurances would change that.

Amy Jo was out of her life, too. Libby’s dream of nurturing and loving that beautiful baby girl was over. Phillip had made what seemed like hurtful accusations, telling her she had hid her grief by burying herself in her work. At the time she’d denied it, denied everything. But now she could see that he was right. When the Armstrongs had decided to adopt Ava’s baby it had felt as if the infant had been ripped from her arms. The ache simply wouldn’t go away. The distraction she’d chosen was the same one she’d used for nearly her entire life. She studied, she worked, she did whatever it took so she wouldn’t have to face the pain confronting her.

All she had left was her career. Libby had worked hard to prove herself, to make her mother proud. Yet despite everything she’d accomplished since returning to the firm, she wasn’t happy.

How could she be happy when her personal life was in shambles? She missed her friends and the life she had carved out for herself while unemployed. She missed Phillip and the closeness they’d once shared. And yet Libby could hear her mother’s voice from her sickbed telling her how important it was to make the most out of every opportunity because life held no guarantees.

Molly Morgan had wanted Libby to be a success, but suddenly Libby realized that her mother had wanted her to be successful in life. Life consisted of more than top grades in school or a career in law. Happiness meant opening herself up to be with others, being loving and accepting the love of others.

Her mother had wanted Libby to be a whole person. For Libby that meant strong relationships—a husband, family, friends, and work that fit with her talents. She’d been so focused on making partner, as if the title alone would fill all the empty holes in her life.

What she’d learned from Phillip was that she needed so much more than a title on a door and a place on the company letterhead. She needed the family she’d found, the friends. Most of all she needed Phillip.