In Name Only (Pine Falls #2) - Jennifer Peel Page 0,82

a smile. I know that’s a little thing, yet the little things help make up who we are. My parents also taught us about the big things. That the more we are given, the more we should be expected to give. It’s why my law firm’s caseload is ninety percent pro bono work. And each case has taught me to see the world through a different lens. Through the eyes of a single mother working four jobs to make ends meet, or a man who’s about to have his house foreclosed on because he was unjustly fired by his employer. Those are the people I promise to fight for.” His passion rang true.

I let out a heavy breath. “I hate that I’m keeping him from his calling in life.”

“Dani, you’re not. This goes beyond you and the baby. If anything, you’re helping to liberate him. Besides, Brant forgot to mention one thing that we taught him—to always do the right thing no matter the consequences.”

The question was, What were those consequences going to be?

Chapter Twenty-Five

I paced the hardwood floor of my bedroom, staring at the phone, waiting for Brock to call. He had been in therapy for over two weeks now and had emailed to say he would be calling tonight. I found myself anxious to hear how he was doing. I had researched the treatment center he was in, and I liked their approach. They used several different therapies, from cognitive, behavioral, and exposure therapies to eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. They also used medications for anxiety and depression, and even sleep aids, as necessary. Though I doubted Brock was a big fan of taking any type of drug, which was silly since he was a doctor and should know better. But he thought it was great for everyone but him.

I sat on the full-size bed that had been mine since I’d moved in with Brock back at the end of August. So much had happened since then. The room, though lonely, didn’t seem like such a prison anymore. Staying in the house with Sheridan had helped it feel more like home. Probably because she had made me decorate it for fall. The woman was a master online shopper. The house was now filled with plaid blankets and throw pillows, pumpkin centerpieces, and candles galore. We were HGTV certified and ready for the Thanksgiving holiday at the end of the month.

It wasn’t only the decorating, though. Sheridan and I also took short walks on the trails near the house; at least when it wasn’t bitterly cold. It had already snowed a couple of times. During our walks, we talked about everything from her childhood and mine to silly things like my love for Frosted Mini-Wheats cereal. I would eat the little biscuits straight out of the box. We never really talked about our husbands. I believed we both did that on purpose. Sheridan knew I had to make my own decision about Brock, and I knew I couldn’t say anything to take away the obvious pain she was in being separated from the love of her life. I could often hear her at night, crying or roaming the house, even watching TV. She didn’t seem to be herself without him.

I wanted to tell her that she didn’t need him. She knew that, though. The problem was, she wanted him. Not the man who he had hidden and become, but the man she’d married and raised her sons with. She was waiting for that man to show up. I was beginning to wonder if he would. He’d been on a business trip this past week overseas. He had called Sheridan, and though I hadn’t heard what was said, the tears at night told me it wasn’t what Sheridan wanted to hear.

My phone buzzed and startled me. I composed myself before answering.

“Hello.”

“Dani,” he said my name with such tenderness and longing. “How are you?”

“The question is, How are you?”

“Please, tell me how you are first. How are you feeling?”

“Physically, better.” The bleeding had all but stopped.

“How’s the rest of you?”

I thought for a second. “I have my moments. It seems so surreal, like it didn’t happen, but then there’s this emptiness that never seems to be filled no matter what I do.” I lay back on the mattress. “Anyway, let’s not talk about me.”

“No. I want to talk about you and . . . the baby.”

I sprang up. “You want to talk about the baby?”

He cleared his throat. “I do. Patrick,

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