by Jess Dee
Amy was crying openly now. “As my friend. You were there as my friend. I could trust you then.” She wiped her nose on her arm. “But it’s different now.”
“Because we’re sleeping together? You trust me less because I’m your friend and your lover?”
“You leave your lovers, Dan.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You are. On Monday. With Janine.”
“Son of a bitch.” He slapped his leg. “You think I’m going to sleep with her.”
Her flushed cheeks turned even pinker.
“What the hell kind of trust do you have in me, anyway?”
“I trust you completely. And I know you’d never sleep with her while you’re sleeping with me.” She took a shuddery breath. “But I hate the idea that you might want to and can’t because I’m here, stopping you.”
Daniel stared at her, at a loss. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Your future. Your freedom.”
“My future’s with you, and I don’t want my freedom.”
“Maybe not now. But you will. Soon, and I won’t be the one to tie you down or place restrictions on you.”
“Jesus, Morgan, loving you is hardly restrictive. This is the most liberated I’ve felt in years.”
“I’ve had fun, too. It’s been good. But you’re moving on now. You’re away traveling for a month. The last thing you need is someone tying you down, limiting what you can do and who you can do it with.”
“I’m not interested in Janine. I have no intention or desire to sleep with her. The only woman I want is you.”
“It’s not about Janine. It’s about you. And me. Your need to dodge commitment, and my fear you’ll leave me. I can’t live like that. I can’t wake up every morning wondering if today’s the day you’re going to decide you’ve had enough and move on.”
“I’m not moving on. You’re it for me, Morgan. The only woman I want.”
“For now. But soon you’ll have had enough.” She held up her hands, as though trying to placate him. “Which is cool. I understand how you work. I know commitment’s not your thing. But it’ll be easier to end things before we get too…tangled up emotionally to go back to being friends.”
“I can’t go back. I won’t. I don’t want to be your friend.”
Amy jerked her head like she’d just been slapped.
“Friendship isn’t enough anymore. I want the whole bang shoot from you. I want us to have it all, together.” Why couldn’t she see that?
“It’s temporary. It’s always temporary for you.”
Damn it, how could she have so little faith in him, in them? It was pissing him off. “You want to know what I think? You’re being a hypocrite. And a coward. You’re the one who’s running, the one who’s scared of commitment. Not me. You’re leaving me before I can leave you.” He shook his head in contempt. “We could have it all. We could have our friendship, we could be lovers… Hell, somewhere down the line we could have a family. But you’re so scared I may hurt you or leave you, you refuse to give us a chance.”
“If I gave you a chance, it would destroy me. My fears are justified. When was the last time you had a meaningful relationship?”
Daniel shoved his hand through his hair. “Have a bit of faith.”
She shook her head sadly. “I can’t take the chance. In the last two years, you’ve had umpteen girlfriends. I won’t be one of those women. I can’t live like this, waiting for the inevitable day I become a statistic. It’s tearing me up inside.”
He shook her arms. “I never loved any of them. I do love you. We have a history, a friendship that will secure this relationship. I’ll never, ever leave you.”
“Don’t say things like that. It makes it more difficult for me to end this.”
“Why would you want to end it?”
“Because I don’t want to be hurt again.”
“You haven’t heard a word. I won’t hurt you. I love you.”
“You love the idea of me. You love me as a friend and you love making love to me. That doesn’t mean you’re in love with me.”
“What more do you want me to do? How else can I convince you I’m serious? I know what I mean when I say I love you.”
He watched her face ice over, her shoulders stiffen, and her back straighten. Before his eyes, she turned into a stranger.
Then she uttered the words that made him sick to his stomach. “It’s time to call it quits. If we continue sleeping together, I’ll start to resent you, and I’d hate that. I’m ending it with our friendship still intact. So our memories of this…time aren’t twisted and bitter, so that tomorrow when we wake up, we can be friends again.”
“Don’t do this. Don’t destroy us.” Anguish tore at his gut.
“It’s too late.”
Pain. So much pain. How was it possible to feel so fucked-up from one conversation?
“Please go,” she begged. “For now. While I still have some dignity left.” She crossed the room and opened the door.
The set of her shoulders told him it didn’t matter what he said now. He could promise her an eternity together, and she wouldn’t believe it. He could swear he’d love her until the day he died, but she wouldn’t hear him.
It didn’t matter how true those words would be, in Amy’s mind their relationship was over. Whatever doors had opened to them, she’d just slammed shut. She’d ended any possibility of the two of them ever building a future together because she didn’t believe it was possible.
Daniel stared at her for a very long time, the agony of her rejection searing through his ribs and frying his heart.
It was over. Everything he’d worked so hard to achieve lay in rubble at his feet. His plan had failed.
Walking away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and the soft click of the door closing behind him as he left reverberated throughout his hollow body.
Chapter Thirteen
When Simon cheated on her, Amy thought she’d never get over it. She believed she’d be miserable and alone for the rest of her life. Time had taught her the truth. The heartache she’d dealt with then was nothing compared to what she was going through now. It was like comparing a blister to an amputation.
She’d ripped Daniel out of her life. One minute he was there and everything was fantastic. The next he was gone and her world was one big screwup.
Without Daniel, she had nothing. Life lost meaning.
When he’d walked out of her apartment, he’d walked out of her life.
There were no negotiations, no “I’ll see you tomorrow,” no last-minute change of mind. He was gone. It wasn’t just their sexual relationship she’d brought to a crashing halt. It was their friendship, too.
He hadn’t called the next day, or the one after that. He’d made no contact at all. Not even to say good-bye when he left on his trip for National Geographic.
It had been the most awful month of her life. Over thirty days of silence. She didn’t have a clue whether his assignment was over or if he was home. She hadn’t heard a word from him since that hideous night. Not a visit, not a call, not even a text. She hadn’t heard from Lexi, either.
Not that she blamed Daniel. She’d kicked him out. What did she expect? That he’d come groveling back to her? Or send his sister to do his bidding for him?
Her brilliant plan had failed. She hadn’t saved herself from the hurt of his ultimate rejection, and she hadn’t saved any part of their friendship.
Without meaning to, she’d fulfilled her own prophecy. She’d lost her lover and her best friend. All because she’d sent him away out of fear.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full night’s rest. She’d lie in bed and ache for the warmth of Daniel’s body pressed against hers, the sound of his voice in her ear as they made love.
When she did sleep, her dreams were troubled. They were always about Daniel, but she could never talk to him in them, never touch him. He was always too far away or had ju
st left when she arrived. She would yell, try to catch his attention, but her screams found no voice. When she tried to run after him, her legs were weighted and useless. He’d always walk away.
It was easier not to sleep.
Food lost its appeal. It stuck in her throat, gagging her. In the passing weeks, she’d lost nearly five kilos.
It was easier not to eat.
Then there were those terrifying moments when she couldn’t remember what he looked like. She could feel his silky curls, smell his aftershave, even see his dimples and devilish smile, but she couldn’t put the image together to make his face whole.
She was lonelier than she’d ever thought possible. When she stood in the middle of a crowd, she was alone. Her best friend was gone.
How could she have coordinated this terrible sequence of events? How could she have calmly stood in her lounge and ordered Daniel out of her life? The reasoning that once seemed so solid now seemed ridiculous.
Without Daniel, life held no purpose.
She loved the man. Wanted him back. She couldn’t live without him. Her sorry state of mind bore testament to that fact.
A knock on the door disturbed her despondent musings.
“Come in.” She blotted her eyes and blew her nose, clearing her throat as she stared at the door.
Maggie walked in with Miranda, one of the other fertility counselors.
“Ame, we need your help, if that’s—” Maggie broke off midsentence to stare at Amy.
Amy shook her head, hoping Maggie would understand she didn’t want to say anything right now, especially in front of Miranda. “Hay fever,” she lied.
Maggie looked uncertain for a moment, even opened her mouth a few times to say something, but in the end, she gave a short nod. “We were hoping to get your help with this case, if you have the time.”
“Of course.” She shoved her misery aside, figuring she had about four minutes until the pain came crashing back down. “Please, sit.”
Maggie handed her a folder. “I know you’re familiar with the basic details of the case. But there’s been a new development.”
Without glancing at the notes, Amy knew they were talking about the gay couple.
“Maggie and I had a meeting with them,” Miranda said. “They’ve decided to go ahead with artificial insemination through the clinic. They’re using a known donor, a gay friend of theirs.”
“Are they aware of the legal rights the man will have once the child is born?” Amy asked.
“Fully. So is the donor. That’s why we’re here. We’d like him to receive counseling before he makes his donation. He’s indicated his willingness to give up parental rights, but both women want to make sure he’s 100 percent okay with his choice.”
“And you’d like me to counsel him?”
Miranda nodded. “It wouldn’t be ethical for me to work with him, not when I’ve seen the couple. He needs someone objective.”
“I’ll do it with pleasure.” She’d wished she was involved in this case, and now here was her opportunity. Besides, it would give her something to focus on apart from Daniel. “What time frame are we looking at?”
“The sooner you see him, the sooner we can start the treatment,” Maggie said.
“All the details are in here?” She held up the file.
Miranda nodded.
“I’ll read through it now and give him a call. Is he expecting to hear from me?”
“He knows someone’s going to contact him.” Miranda stood.
“I’ll let you know what happens,” Amy promised as Miranda left. Maggie didn’t move.
With Miranda no longer in the office, Amy’s defenses dropped.
“Still feel shitty?”
“Worse. And don’t be nice. It’ll only make me cry.” It was too late, though. Her tears were already starting.
“Call him. Tell him you made a mistake and want a second chance.”
“I can’t. He’s not interested in hearing from me. If he was, he’d have contacted me.”
“Bull. You kicked him out right after he told you he loved you. Why would he try get in touch?”
Her heart heaved again, and she blotted her eyes. “I’m sure he’s relieved. He’s free. I bet he’s having the time of his life.” The last sentence resonated with bitterness.
Maggie frowned. “You dealt Daniel a shitty hand. You’ve been bloody unfair to him. I know you’re hurting, but how do you think he feels? His closest friend suddenly decides she doesn’t want to see him again. The woman he loves kicks him out. He lays his heart on the line and you say he’s talking crap. Exactly how much rejection do you think one guy can take?”
“How much rejection can I take? I can’t risk it happening again, especially with someone who means so much to me.”
“So without giving him a chance, you dump him.”
“You’re not being very sympathetic.”
“You’re not being very logical. For weeks I’ve comforted you, but there’s another side to the story—Daniel’s side. I suspect he’s as miserable as you are. If you weren’t so stubborn, you’d see that.”
“He’d have hurt me, Mags. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You’re already hurting, and Daniel had nothing to do with it.”
“He has everything to do with it.”
Maggie stood. “You’re miserable. The only way you’ll feel happy again is if you and Daniel get back together. Do yourself a favor and phone him.”
“That’s it?” Amy stared at Maggie as she opened the office door. “You’re giving me orders and walking out?”
Maggie shrugged. “I have a patient, and you’re being stubborn. You love him, phone him.” She closed the door behind her.
Yeah, and risk hearing him say she was right, he was better off with his freedom? She’d rather stick toothpicks in her eyes.
Amy opened Miranda’s file and a notebook and proceeded to make detailed notes of the case as she read.
The patient, Annie Brauer, a journalist with one of the local newspapers, had made contact with the clinic, requesting details about artificial insemination using donor sperm. Maggie had seen her and her partner for the first time about three months ago and made thorough notes about their meeting.
Annie and her partner…
Amy gaped at the sheet in her hand, sure she’d misread vital information. She shook her head, snapped her jaw closed, and reread Annie’s partner’s name. Then she went over each detail of the case with meticulous care, reading the file from cover to cover. When she finished, she leaned back in her chair and spluttered in disbelief.
Miranda would have to pass the case on to Olivia. Amy couldn’t do the counseling.
It was unethical to get involved in cases where she knew the patients personally. Annie Brauer’s long-term partner was a pediatric oncologist at Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs Hospital. Her name was Leona Ramsey.
Amy left work, bewildered.
Daniel’s married admirer was a lesbian and thus not interested in men. Not even hot, sexy, and devilishly handsome men like Daniel.
He’d concocted a whole convoluted plan to throw Leona off his back when she was never on his back in the first place. No woman planning to start a family with her female lover would seduce a man. Sure, it was almost every straight man’s fantasy to seduce or be seduced by a lesbian—and hopefully her girlfriend as well—but that’s all it was. A fantasy.
So what the hell was Daniel thinking? Why had he insisted Amy kiss him when there was really no reason? According to the notes in the file, their relationship wasn’t secret. Friends and colleagues were well aware of their orientation. Leona and Lexi were friends and colleagues, so Lexi would know about Annie. If Lexi knew, it stood to reason Daniel did, too.
So why had he insinuated Leona was married to a man?
He’d concocted a whole scheme to get rid of Leona, using Amy as the decoy.
Everything had changed the night Daniel kissed her. That first kiss had set off a tidal wave of reac
tions. And need. And lust. And sex. All it had taken was one kiss, and Amy was hooked. She’d no longer just wanted to be friends. She’d wanted to be her best friend’s lover, and she’d wanted it bad.
What if Daniel did know Leona was gay? What if he’d made the whole story up? And what if Leona was in on the conspiracy?
Leona must have been privy to his plans all along. She might have even enjoyed playing the seductive doctor.
Amy had fallen for the whole ploy. She’d instinctively come to Daniel’s rescue, kissed him right back when he’d kissed her. He must have known she’d never kiss him under any other circumstances, so he’d planned the whole damned thing.
Bloody hell.
She tapped her nails on her steering wheel in irritation. Why hadn’t he come right out and told her how he felt? Why hadn’t he just kissed her?
Because she’d never have taken him seriously. She would have stopped him before he ever got the chance to start. She’d have been too amused or too perplexed, or even too damn afraid to let him finish, and she’d have fiercely protected their friendship, refusing to allow any other factors to interfere.
So he’d sneakily insinuated their romance into her life, edging it in so she would think it had crept up on her and taken place naturally. He’d made sure his feelings and the changes in their relationship posed no threat to her.
Yet nothing had occurred naturally. All the changes had transpired from Daniel’s backhanded planning.
“Not okay, Tanner. Not okay on any level.”
A wave of anger and exhaustion made her shake.
She was suffering from information overload. What was needed was a caffeine infusion. She headed for her favorite coffee shop in Coogee, refusing to think about Daniel until she was halfway through her extra-large, double-strength latte.
