“I thought you weren’t leaving.” Her heart kicked against her ribs. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve changed my mind. I probably should leave.” He sounded tired.
“But—you— I just told you I don’t love you.”
“I heard you.” His voice was level. “You’ve told me how you felt, so we’re good.”
Good? He didn’t seem good. She’d hurt him. She’d really hurt him. And knowing that made her feel physically sick.
“So—am I ever going to see you again?”
“Of course. We’re friends. Friends don’t stop being friends just because they don’t agree on everything.” He stooped to stroke Valentine and then strode to the door. “It’s been a long night. Get some sleep, Molly.”
Sleep?
She watched as he closed the door behind him. How was she supposed to sleep? There was a weight crushing her chest and she felt as if someone was squeezing her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus.
She rubbed her chest with her palm, trying to ease the ache. The last person in the world she wanted to hurt was Daniel, so of course she was going to feel bad about that.
That’s what the pain was. Guilt. Nothing else. What else could it be?
Twenty-One
“She broke it off. The first t
ime I have ever said ‘I love you’ to a woman, and she virtually threw me out of her apartment.” Daniel paced to the window of his sisters’ apartment. Was this how it felt? All those people who had trailed through his office, devastated at the end of their relationship—had they felt as bad as this? If he’d known, he might have been more sympathetic. On the other hand he was paid for legal advice, not sympathy. He felt as if something vital inside him had been torn. Internal injuries, not visible from the outside. “Now what?”
He never should have said those words to her. At least not right then, when her brain had been occupied trying to process everything else that was going on.
He’d picked the worst possible time.
On the other hand their relationship had been one long sequence of secrets and misunderstandings. He’d thought it was time to put the truth out there and see how it went down.
It hadn’t gone down well.
Harriet spoke first. “Was that a rhetorical question or are you actually asking us for advice?”
“I’m asking. I need help.” He turned and looked at both of them. His sisters. His family. “I’ll take anything you’ve got.”
Visibly awkward, Fliss rubbed her toes on the wooden floor. “When it comes to relationship advice, I don’t have much. Harry?”
“Not personal experience, but I’ve read a lot.” She rescued one of the kittens who was about to dive from the sofa. “Quite a bit of what I’ve read was written by Molly.”
“That could be a good thing, and in any case, I’m desperate.”
Fliss exchanged glances with her sister and shrugged. “Not that I’m an expert, but I would say your timing sucked.”
“I know my timing sucked!”
“Hey, you asked for advice! You said you’d take anything we’ve got, and that’s what I’ve got.”
“I’m sorry.” His head crowded with emotions that were unfamiliar and uncomfortable. If this was love, he wasn’t sure he liked it. He felt helpless, and he’d never felt helpless in his life before.
Fliss sighed. “Molly was having a really bad day. She was all freaked out that people would be talking about her again, and if you’ve looked online you’ll know that wasn’t a picnic last time, and then suddenly in the middle of all that emotional crap you tell her you love her. She was already set to panic stations and you sent her into meltdown. It’s like everything going wrong at once. And she’s a kind person. She probably hated hurting you.”
“You’re saying that if I’d waited, she might have given me a different answer?”
“I don’t know! Maybe.”