Michael's Discovery - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,54

mean?”

“It means that I’m starting to care too much, not just about you, but about all of this,” she said, gesturing around the table at the gathering of Devaneys, Havilceks and Maggie’s relatives. “Right now, I’m your therapist. That’s the only relationship that’s real between us, the only one you’re allowing to be real.”

Michael looked genuinely bewildered by her claim. “Those kisses felt damn real to me.”

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the sensation of pure longing that suddenly swamped her. “I know,” she said softly. “But they’re not enough. Not anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

She drew in a deep breath and faced him evenly. “I’m going to start seeing other people, and I won’t be hanging out here anymore.”

His expression turned hard. “Your choice.”

A tide of hurt washed over her. If only he’d objected, fought even a little to change her mind, but he didn’t. And that said everything. It said that whatever they had, he didn’t think it was worth fighting for.

Kelly stood up, grabbed her coat and spun away from the table before anyone could see the tears that were starting to slide down her cheeks. As she raced for the door, she heard several people call her name, but she pretended she hadn’t. She needed to be alone, needed to tell herself—probably a million and one times before she believed it—that she had done the right thing.

She was also going to need every single second between now and tomorrow morning to brace herself for having to face Michael at the rehab clinic, because even though it would be the smart, safe thing to do, she had no intention of abandoning him in the middle of his therapy.

Michael still wasn’t entirely sure what the devil had happened the night before. One minute Kelly had been looking a little thoughtful, the next she’d been announcing that she was through with him. Maybe he was only a clueless male, but it didn’t make any sense. He honestly had no idea what had triggered her announcement or her abrupt departure, not even after every single person in all of the combined families had tried to pry it out of him.

That had irritated him most of all, that Kelly had walked out, and he’d been left to answer an endless barrage of questions about what he’d done to make her go. Clearly everyone assumed that she couldn’t possibly be the one at fault. He intended to have quite a lot to say about that when he saw her this morning at the clinic—if he saw her at the clinic.

He arrived with his heart admittedly in his throat as he scanned the mirrored therapy room for some sign of her. He spotted Jennifer, the teenaged patient who had inspired his own renewed dedication to his therapy, but she was working with someone else. His heart sank.

“Looking for Kelly?” Moira inquired, her tone every bit as cool as it had been the night before when she’d assumed that he had somehow driven Kelly from the pub.

He nodded.

“She’s in a meeting with Dr. Burroughs. She should be free soon.”

Michael couldn’t describe the feeling of relief that spread through him. “Thanks.” When Moira would have turned away, he caught her hand. “I didn’t do anything to upset her last night. I swear it.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. I’m as confused as you are.”

“If Bryan or I find out differently, there will be hell to pay,” she said fiercely. “You know that, don’t you?”

He had to admire that kind of loyalty, even if it did make him feel as if he’d been unwittingly targeted. “Everyone should have friends as protective as you are,” he said. “I’ll wait over there.”

He felt Moira’s gaze on his back as he wheeled himself across the room. He turned his back to the mirrored wall. He hated those mirrors. When he looked into them, he couldn’t ignore his condition.

A few minutes later, he heard Kelly’s laughter before he actually saw her. She emerged from an office with a man dressed in carefully creased slacks, a designer dress shirt and a lab coat. He was the epitome of everything Michael wasn’t at the moment—suave, sure of himself and physically fit. Michael hated him on sight. Watching the way the man looked at Kelly set Michael’s teeth on edge. If he’d been in any shape to do it, Michael would have slugged the man on the spot just as a matter of principle.

Even as the desire to punch the guy’s lights out

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