“Nathan, this isn’t a good idea.” Her words were cool and precise, distanced and hollow. He swallowed against the growing dread in the pit of his stomach and forced a smile.
“What? The pizza? We can always get something —”
“Not the pizza. This.” She finally looked him in the eye, fixed him with a stare that was completely devoid of all emotion. Nathan glanced away, searching for something to distract him from that blank look and the irrational fear it gave him.
“‘This’ what?” His own voice was steady, carefully neutral, betraying none of the anxiety that suddenly swamped him as he tossed the flowers on the table beside the pizza.
“This…whatever this is between us. It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“And why is that?” Nathan’s voice was calm, almost as flat as Catherine’s. It surprised him because inside he was seething. He wanted to rail at her, to force her to show some kind of emotion. To shatter the veneer of cool poise that surrounded her. Underlying the anger he felt were deeper emotions: confusion, pain. Betrayal. He forged ahead before Catherine could answer, tossing another question at her. “And what exactly do you think is between us?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Nathan grunted in disbelief, shaking his head as he turned away and walked out of the kitchen. He stopped and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, his gaze focused on the several prints carefully arranged on the dining room wall, copies of antique herbs framed in old gold-tone frames. Formal. Safe.
I don’t know.
Catherine’s answer echoed in his ears. A safe answer. Like everything else that surrounded her. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying not to think about how fast she had given that answer. He refused to believe she really didn’t know what was between them. He couldn’t believe it. Not after everything that had passed between them in their time together. Not after yesterday morning.
He took another deep breath and turned back to face her, studying her for any reaction or sign of emotion. “So what is this all about, Catherine? Why the sudden change of heart?”
“There hasn’t been any change of heart.”
“Really? There wasn’t anything wrong yesterday.”
Catherine again folded her arms across her chest and studied him, making him feel like an intruder under that analytical gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t? What’s going on, Catherine?”
She pursed her lips, blew out a breath and suddenly waved her hand, dismissing his question. Or dismissing him. Maybe both. “A skateboard, Nathan?”
Nathan ran a hand through his hair, wondering why she seemed to be overreacting so much. “Okay, I’m sorry. The skateboard was a stupid idea. I didn’t think. I’ll take it —”
“He was trying to jump a ramp last night! His leg is bruised from where he jammed it against the prosthesis.”
Nathan’s stomach flip-flopped in fear. “Oh, God. Is he okay? Was he hurt?”
Catherine paused, studying him. He thought she was going to reach out for him, reassure him, but she pulled back at the last minute and looked away. When she turned back, her face was an expressionless mask, devoid of all emotion. “He’s fine. But giving him the skateboard wasn’t a very responsible thing to do, and it set a bad example.”
“I said I was sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll talk to him.”
“It’s not just the skateboard, Nathan. It’s you.”
“What?” Nathan ran a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to control the barrage of emotions simmering in his gut. Something was very, very wrong. He took another deep breath, trying to clear his head. “I don’t understand.”
“What kind of example are you setting for Matty by playing when you shouldn’t be? Do you think it’s healthy for him to see you risking yourself every time you go out on the ice? He looks up to you, Nathan, and he’s going to end up following your example. I can’t let him do that!”
Nathan stood still, stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact you shouldn’t be playing hockey anymore. Your knee can’t handle it.”
“Nobody said I should stop playing.”
Catherine stared at him, outwardly calm when inside chills raced through her at the sudden change in him. His voice was deadly quiet, his face a stony mask that hid emotions she could only guess at. She dug her nails into the palms of her folded hands and fought to keep her voice even.
“Who are you lying to, Nathan? Me? Or yourself? I know what Brian told you yesterday.” Not because Brian had told her, though. Because she had looked at the open files in the exam room. She hadn’t meant to, was only straightening the room when she happened to see them. So she had looked, driven by a strong need to discover the truth. Because Nathan would never tell her.
He couldn’t even admit it to himself. That much was obvious from the way his whole body stiffened. The dim light reflected the hardness in his eyes, mirrored by the coldness when he spoke. “Nobody said I should stop playing.”
Catherine studied him for a second longer then looked away, feeling lost and empty. She shook her head, her words almost a whisper when she finally spoke. “This is why it can’t work, Nathan. You can’t even admit to yourself that it’s time to quit. I need to think about Matty. He shouldn’t be looking up to someone who pushes himself to the point of irreparable injury.”
“Excuse me? You’re going to put this off on your son? Use him as an excuse?” He walked back to the kitchen table and fingered the bouquet of flowers, then gave a short laugh before facing her. “Now look who’s talking about admitting the truth to themselves. That’s the great Dr. Wilson for you. So noble and self-sacrificing. Maybe you should think about the example you’re setting, always holding yourself back.”
“How dare you!”
“No, Catherine, how dare you. I really thought we had something going. Christ, I was even starting to think of us as a family. Matty means the world to me, and for you to turn around and accuse me of setting a bad example…” Nathan’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “What a crock.”
A sudden piercing stabbed Catherine in the breastbone as Nathan’s words hit her with the force of a physical blow. She sucked in a breath that stuck in her throat. Her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. She imagined she could hear a rending tear coming from her chest when she noticed the naked emotion in Nathan’s eyes. “What…what did you say?”
“I said it was a crock.” Nathan stared at her, his eyes blazing with emotion. He continued fingering the flowers, then finally picked them up with one hand. It struck Catherine as an absent gesture, as if he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. “You know, you’re right. This won’t work. I’m not perfect. Too bad that makes me a bad example in your eyes.”
“Nathan —”
“Forget it.” His words came out in a whisper. He looked down at the bouquet of flowers in his hands as if he just realized he was holding them. A distant look flashed in his eyes and he shook his head before holding them out to her, a final offering she refused to accept. Nathan carelessly tossed them back onto the table. “Have a nice safe life, Catherine. I hope you find the perfection you’re looking for. Tell Matty I said goodbye.”
The silence between them was charged with unspoken words, accusations and denials. Catherine swallowed back her tears and thought about denying his words, couldn’t because she knew they held some truth. She thought about telling him how she really felt, what was really in her heart and how much that scared her.
The moment, and the chance, was lost when Nathan shook his head a final time and walked past her. His footsteps echoed in the unnatural quiet of the house, ringing with a finality that paralyzed Catherine with regret.
She heard the rattling of the doorknob, heard the whisper-soft creak of the front door opening. The noise broke her paralysis and catapulted her into action. Her feet moved of their own accord, dragging her out of the kit
chen. Uncertainty gripped her when she realized she didn’t know what she was going to say, didn’t know why she was running after him.
She was running after him because she loved him. But then it was too late. A closed door greeted her just as she turned the corner of the empty hallway. Nathan was gone.
Catherine reached for the knob, imagined she could feel the heat of his touch still on the metal, like a living thing. Nothing was stopping her from turning the knob and throwing open the door. Nothing was stopping her from calling out to him, telling him that he was right, she had been holding back.
Because she was afraid.
Because she loved him.
The sound of an engine turning over drifted through the closed door, followed by the squeal of tires as his car pulled out of the driveway. Catherine sagged against the door, defeated. She had come so close to chasing after him. Stupid.
It was better this way. Better for a clean break before things got too out of hand. Before she really lost her heart. She wiped the wetness from her face and kept repeating the words to herself, over and over, hoping she’d eventually believe them.
Chapter Seventeen
“You look like hell.”
Catherine looked up from the report she was trying to write, surprised to see Brian standing in her office. She hadn’t even heard him come in. “Thanks, Bri. I knew I could count on you to make me feel better.”
“Just doing my job.” He shut the door behind him, walked toward her then lowered himself into one of the chairs and propped his feet on the edge of the desk. Catherine raised her eyebrows but said nothing, just moved a pile of papers before he could knock them to the floor. She turned her attention back to the report, determined to ignore him.
“Somebody sent me three tickets to tonight’s game,” Brian finally said as he studied his fingernails. Catherine knew without asking that he was talking about the Banners’ playoff game. She pretended to ignore Brian.
“I thought maybe you and Matty —”
“No.”
“Catherine, Matty misses him —”
“I said no. No more, Brian. Just drop it.”
Silence filled the room. Her vision swam and she realized she didn’t even know what she was writing anymore. A sigh hitched in her chest and she finally tossed the pen down.
“How long are you going to make yourself miserable?”
“Who said I’m miserable?”
“Come off it, Catherine. Everyone can see you’re miserable. You haven’t been sleeping. You look like the walking dead.”
“Thank you, Brian. Thank you very much. I don’t need this from you, okay?” Catherine leaned back in the chair and ran her hands through her hair in frustration. “I’m fine. Matty’s fine. Everyone is fine so please, just mind your own business.”
Brian pinned her with a glare that was so unlike him she physically recoiled from it. “No, everyone is not fine. If you want to ignore how you’ve been lately, that’s up to you, but Matty doesn’t even look like the same kid anymore!” His features softened as he paused, thinking. “And Nathan is just as miserable as you are. Maybe more, if that’s even possible.”
Catherine blinked, hard and fast, then focused all her attention on the mess that had accumulated on her desk. She leaned forward in her chair and went through the piles, trying to organize everything, knowing it was hopeless since she couldn’t really see what was in front of her.
An image of Nathan the last time she saw him came to mind against her will. She remembered the haunted look in his eyes, the brief glimpse of raw emotion that she nearly missed seeing before he ruthlessly hid it behind an impenetrable wall. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to fill the emptiness that had been inside her. “Brian, it’s over. Not that there was anything there to begin with. Just let it go.”
“Catherine…”
She looked up at Brian and saw the sympathy on his face. She didn’t want or need sympathy. All she wanted was time. Time to get over everything, time for things to return to normal. Was that too much to ask?
“Then what about tonight? At least let me take Matty.”
“Brian —”
“It’ll be good for him, Catherine. In spite of what you think, the way you and Nathan are acting is tearing that poor boy apart. Is that what you want?”
“You know it’s not.”
“Then let him go. Let him have one night out away from everything. It’ll just be the two of us. He can even stay the night, let you have some time to yourself.”
The last thing she needed was more time to herself but she suspected Brian already knew that. If she said yes, she would be caving in, contradicting every reason she had for not seeing Nathan again. If she said no, she would look spiteful, like she didn’t care about Matty. It was a no-win situation.
Catherine suspected Brian knew that, too, and mentally cursed him for knowing her too well. She ran a hand through her hair again and let out a weary sigh. She didn’t have a choice.
“Fine. Take him to the game. But that’s it, Brian, just the game.” She pushed away from the desk and stood, jamming her pen into her coat pocket as she leveled her sternest glare at Brian.
“Now what else would we do?”
“Brian, I mean it. The game, and straight home. No stops afterward.” She held his gaze until he sighed and nodded.
It wasn’t until she was finished with the last patient that she realized he had never actually agreed with her.
Nathan sat in the locker room after the game, an ice pack held to his broken nose. He had played well, scored twice, had even hoped that Catherine was watching the game from home. Now, as he shifted on the padded table and winced as pain shot through him from at least a hundred different places, he couldn’t care less if she had seen the game or not.
“All right, lemme see.” A hand appeared in Nathan’s peripheral vision, moving forward until it grabbed the ice pack and took it away. Another hand tilted his head back until the face of the trainer came into view. “How many fingers?”
“Get lost, you moron. It’s a broken nose, not a concussion.” The words were nasal and tired, a direct reflection of how Nathan felt. All he wanted to do was go home and soak.
“Such appreciation. How’s the cut?”
Nathan fingered the small slice below his eye and shrugged. It was a cut. A few stitches probably wouldn’t hurt but there was no way anyone was getting near him with a needle. The butterfly bandage would do the job just as well. “Fine.”
“How about the nose?” The trainer squeezed the bridge of Nathan’s nose, causing him to wince. He batted away the offensive hand and put the ice pack back in place.
“It’ll be fine as long as you leave it alone.” And it would, Nathan knew from experience. They had one day off before flying to Pittsburgh to finish the series. One more win, and they’d move to the conference finals. Then the Cup.
There was no doubt in Nathan’s mind that they’d go all the way. That he would go all the way. All it had taken for his game to pick back up was that first goal tonight. Once he scored that, they had been unstoppable.
He had been unstoppable.
The trainer finished his poking and prodding then made his rounds through the battered and bruised. Nathan limped into the shower for a steaming soak that did little to ease his aches. He was in the process of buttoning his shirt and getting ready to leave when Sonny came over to him.
“Good game, Conners. About time.”
“Hmm.” Nathan didn’t bother replying, knowing that Sonny didn’t expect — or want — an answer.
“You got visitors. I’ll send them back.”
Nathan’s fingers fumbled on the last button and he drew his head up sharply but the coach was already gone. Damn. It had to be Brian and Matty; he had seen them in their seats earlier. But he wasn’t sure if he was ready to deal with Matty one-on-one yet. What would he say to him? What had Catherine told him?
He didn’t have time to wonder more than that befor
e Matty’s excited voice broke through the grunts and groans that floated through the locker room. Nathan forced a smile on his face and turned to greet Matty and Brian; the smile turned real at the laughter in Matty’s voice when he ran up to him and stopped just short of giving Nathan a hug.
“Geez, Nathan, you look like somebody whupped you good!”
“Yeah? Then you must not have been watching very close.” Nathan reached out and ruffled Matty’s hair, surprised at how good it was to see him again, surprised at how much he had missed him. It wasn’t a good sign. He drew his hand back and met Brian’s eyes, trying to read the expression hidden behind the doctor’s glasses. “Doc. Nice to see you again.”
“Nathan.” Brian nodded a short greeting then inclined his head to Nathan’s leg. “Looks like things got a little rough out there tonight. How’s that knee holding up?”
“Fine. Good.” He shifted uncomfortably, unsure about what to say. “So, um, how were the seats? Everything okay?”
“The seats were cool. The best ones yet,” Matty answered. He tilted his head and fixed Nathan with a curious gaze. “Mom didn’t want to come, though.”
“Matthew!” Brian’s harsh whisper echoed around them. Nathan guessed that Matty had been told not to bring up his mom but it was inevitable. Nathan waved Brian’s correction away.
“No, it’s okay.” He turned to face Matty, trying not to squirm under the kid’s clear gaze. “I didn’t really think your mom would come, even though I hoped…well, I didn’t think she’d be able to make it. She’s probably busy and all.”
“She’s not busy, she just didn’t want to come.”
“Oh. Um, yeah, well, you know how it goes.” Nathan took a deep breath, surprised at the pain that sliced through him with the brutally honest words. “So. Your mom knows you’re here?”
“Yeah. But Uncle Brian had to really talk her into letting me come. And she didn’t want us to come back here, either, but I made Uncle Bri bring me.”
“Matty, I think we should probably leave now —”
“No. No, it’s okay.” Nathan straightened, tearing his gaze away from Matty’s, away from the confusion in the boy’s eyes. He shifted his attention to the gym bag on the bench beside him and absently shoved some things into it, needing a minute to sort through the jumbled thoughts whirling in his mind.
Finding Dr. Right (Contemporary Medical Romance) Page 20
