at all that he was a man whore with a cliché woman. Men like him usually had big egos and liked women to fawn over them. She wasn’t into those types of games. She’d thought he was different from how much he’d supported her so far — she’d obviously been wrong.
Carl called out, but the blonde stopped him, and Avery was able to make her escape. She fled quickly, hailing a cab, leaving the pier and Carl behind. She wished she could feel a whole lot better about the situation than she did. Unfortunately, all she felt was crappy.
She’d lost her job that day, and even though it had been her choice, it still was frightening since she didn’t have a new one lined up, and now she’d lost the guy she’d been pretty dang attracted to. She’d known her time with him wasn’t going anywhere so it shouldn’t cross her mind again. She feared it would though — she feared she’d be thinking of him for quite some time.
There was only one place she wanted to go when she was feeling this blue. She gave the driver the address then sat back. She wouldn’t allow herself pity for long — not long at all. Her new life had begun, and nothing was going to bring her down.
Chapter Thirteen
It had been twenty-four hours since Joseph had been with his wife, and his temper was peaking. He’d been patient, but he needed to hold her, needed to see her face. The hospital was being overly cautious, and he respected that, but enough was enough.
He rose from the chair in the waiting room, his body aching as he walked out to the corridor and moved to the end where a double door was closed. He pushed the button and moved through it, finding himself in a wide hallway with huge windows at the end. He moved toward them, seeing the lights shining down below. The sun had set, and there were a couple of people below, either sneaking in kisses or smokes. He wanted to be outside the hospital walls himself, but he wouldn’t leave his wife.
He’d always enjoyed the night when the streets emptied and a person could hear their own thoughts. But right now he couldn’t imagine feeling joy. Normally, his favorite time of day was the morning, the breaking dawn of a new day. Anything was possible with a brand new day. Problems from the night before vanished, and the morning light gave a person a new perspective.
He was certain tomorrow’s dawn wouldn’t be any better than tonight’s dusk. That was a humbling and sad thought. For right now he simply felt hopeless. He needed his wife. Yes, that was something most people said, but in his case, it was so much more than words.
Before Katherine, he’d been a lost man. He’d been arrogant and stupid, and had no understanding of love and devotion. Before Katherine, he’d cared only about his next big deal, his next project to conquer. He hadn’t wanted to be a family man. He hadn’t thought to help the world. He’d been lost without knowing he’d needed to be found.
But from the first moment he’d spotted Katherine he’d known he had to have her. While they might’ve had bumps in the road, the next time he’d seen her he’d known she’d be his wife and the mother of his children. From that moment on, he’d known his world would never be the same again. To lose her was unacceptable.
Joseph felt someone beside him, but didn’t turn. Somehow he knew he didn’t want to hear whatever it was they were going to tell him. Though he wasn’t normally a man to run from news, or danger, he didn’t want this person to speak, didn’t want to look at them. He was scared — a completely new emotion for him. He was downright terrified.
“Joseph.” Dr. Whitman’s voice was quiet, reassuring, and kind — too kind. Joseph knew that tone of voice.
“You promised me,” Joseph said, not recognizing his own voice. It was broken, raspy, and didn’t have anywhere near the booming quality he was known for.
There was a pause as Dr. Spence Whitman gave Joseph a moment. Joseph appreciated him for that. Normally he was a man to want the bandage ripped off. But the longer he lived in denial, the better off he was — at least for this horrible period in his life.
“I don’t like to make promises for this very reason. Before I explain,