They’d married less than a year ago in Las Vegas. For the briefest, sweetest time he had been her man, and her love for him had been shocking in its intensity. Everything else had retreated. He had been everything.
But almost immediately there had been warning signs. The cut short honeymoon. His laptop always open, its screen glowing day or night because he worked all hours.
Work came first.
Maybe she should have said more, but to have done so would have been to admit how much she loved him, and she still found it hard to be open about her emotions. Like opening Pandora’s box, she was both tempted and terrified at the same time. And Omar had always apologised so profusely for the long hours and the working weekends.
Her mouth twisted. He’d had a whole repertoire of apologies.
But after London she’d finally accepted that nothing—certainly no apology—would change the facts. She and Omar had been a real fairy tale—the original, old-fashioned kind, where the Little Mermaid didn’t win the heart of her prince but was discarded and turned into sea foam.
She’d had to leave, and the next and the only logical step had been to make things official—which was why she’d filed for divorce a week ago...
Her head snapped up.
Two, maybe three voices, all female, were screaming obscenities. There was a crash of something metallic, followed by the hurried thud of footsteps, and then the curtains parted with a flourish, as if it was the opening night of a Broadway show.
‘Hi, Delphi.’ It was Carole, frowning over her shoulder as the screaming got louder. ‘Sorry about that. Just some Fourth of July family fireworks. How’s everything feeling?’
‘A bit sore, but basically okay.’ As if to test the truth of her words, Delphi moved her wrist from side to side. It hurt a little, but now it was more of a dull ache. ‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly two.’ The nurse smiled. ‘Now, as you know, things might be a little painful for a day or two.’
Running her good hand through her short, pinkish blonde pixie cut, Delphi nodded. As the X-rays had shown, it wasn’t the first time she’d injured her arm. ‘But it’s best if you try and keep doing what you normally do. It will speed up the recovery and—’
‘So can I leave now?’
Watching the other woman’s smile stiffen, she felt like a jerk—and not for the first time. She wished she had her brothers’ easy charm. But she wasn’t a people person. It was one of the reasons she had chosen a career working with horses. But this was an ER, so obviously there were lots of people here, and people made her nervous.
Her gaze rested on Carole’s face. Logically, she knew it was highly improbable that some nurse at a small hospital in rural Idaho would connect her with that little girl whose face had once been all over the internet. But it was hard to change her behaviour. Difficult to take people at face value. She had learned the hard way that kind words and a smile could distract from all manner of hidden agendas.
Her pulse fluttered. She could still remember the first time Omar had smiled at her. Not just the way it had lit up his face and turned him into a living flame, but also her panicky moth-like response. She had been stunned, disorientated, mesmerised. Torn between wanting to keep on staring at his fascinating curving mouth and a need to turn and run.
She glanced through the gap in the curtains to where the phantom Omar had stood by the coffee machine. It would have been better to run. It was always better—safer—to run. And if running wasn’t possible, then the next best thing was to keep people at arm’s length.
‘Yes, you’re good to go,’ said Carole.
Delphi nodded. ‘Thanks.’
Carole gave her the practised smile of a busy nurse. ‘You’re welcome. Any other questions?’
‘Just one.’
Delphi shifted cautiously forward. As her feet touched the floor she stood up, swaying slightly in her high-heeled sandals, the hem of her dress flaring around her ankles.
Earlier, standing at the side of the road, staring at the crumpled back of her car, her first thought, as always, had been to avoid any drama. Drama might lead someone to put two and two together and make four, and before she could blink there would be a whole pack of paparazzi slavering on her doorstep with their long lenses and shouted questions.
That was why she had called her housemate Ashley on the way to the hospital and left a message telling her not to worry, and that she would make her own way back.
Only now she could do without having to wait around for a bus back to Creech Falls.
If this had happened nine months ago she would simply have rung home. Thanks to Omar, that wasn’t possible. If she rang home she would have to explain why she was living on her own in Idaho and not in New York with her husband, and it had been agonising enough to admit to herself that her marriage was over.
To admit it to her family would be an entirely new level of pain.
Her heart squeezed with homesickness again, and with love, too, for the man who had adopted her and raised her as his own.
Dan Howard was the best man she knew. He was her pole star, and her brothers, Ed, Scott and Will, made up the compass points that kept her steady and safe. Telling them the truth was going to break their hearts, but particularly her adoptive father’s. It was Dan who had introduced Omar to the family. Dan who had encouraged her to trust her instincts and her feelings. To let those feelings show rather than keep them buried.