“I know if I had a pretty young woman’s heart I’d be with her.”
He didn’t have Darby’s heart.
Well, actually, he did, but that was just plastic.
Blake froze. Darby’s words hit him, pinging through his thick skull and sinking home.
Darby had given him her heart, had said her heart belonged to him.
After a lifetime of abstinence, she had given him her virginity.
She loved him.
He’d been too blind to realize.
Too blind to see.
But how could he have seen when he’d been too blind to even see his own feelings for Darby?
While in Alabama, pretending to love her, he’d realized he wanted her, that he’d always wanted her, but instead of acting upon that realization he’d run scared, wanting to hold on to the safe rather than risk getting hurt. To hang on to the tried and true rather than venture into unknown territories. In the process he’d lost her.
Blake set down his stethoscope, stared at Mr. Hill, and gave credit where credit was due. “You’re a wise man, Nathan Hill.”
The man smiled his toothless smile. “Looks like you’re wisening up, too.”
“That I am. Let’s hope I’m not too late.”
“I just can’t believe you’re really home.” Rosy waved her paintbrush, droplets of paint splattering onto the plastic lining the floor. Her gaze lowered to the paint. “Oops.”
Darby wiped the back of her hand across her sweaty brow, a smile on her paint-dappled face. Part of her couldn’t believe she was home either.
“I can’t believe you didn’t bring that scrumptious doctor with you,” Mandy said, glancing up from where she’d taped off a corner of the room they were painting.
The room where Darby would soon be seeing patients.
In Alabama.
In her own practice.
Far away from the scrumptious doctor in question.
“Blake is busy finding someone to replace me in Knoxville.”
Mandy’s gaze met Darby’s, then lowered to the painter’s tape. Darby hated her friend’s sympathy. They’d all commiserated when she’d told them she and Blake had broken up. If not for her pregnancy, she would have told them the entire weekend had been nothing more than a pretense.
“In the office or in his bed?” Rosy eyed Darby curiously. “Because, as much as I want you home, I want you to be happy, too, and he made you happy.” She gave a considering look. “Understandably so. Just looking at him made me happy, too.”
“Whatever.” Darby shook her head at Rosy. Her sister-in-law was as in love with her husband as the day they’d exchanged vows. Still, Rosy had a point. “I am happy.”
Mandy glanced up at her, eyeing her even more curiously than Rosy had. “You’re sure?”
Did her friends think she was depressed? Was that why they visited so often? Mandy had even fussed over Darby’s lack of kempt hair and make-up that morning. What did her appearance matter for painting? But she appreciated their concern, so she forced a smile to her face. “I’m sure.”
It was the truth. Mostly.
Sure, she cried herself to sleep at night, missing Blake, but she was happy, was confident she’d made the right decision to move home and raise her baby surrounded by her family’s love.
She hadn’t to