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“I’m so happy for you. See you soon.” It’s sad she had to question whether I’d reject her maid of honor request. But I get it. I mean, it’d be awesome to think one day someone would come along and I could get engaged.Heck, at this point I’d settle for one hot date. I need to face reality. I’m inching closer to thirty, and there’s no man in sight. I’ve met no one I can trust not to let me down. If this is the life I’m choosing, I simply have to deal with it and not make it anyone else’s problem.

Almost as if the universe hears my reverie, my phone buzzes.

10:22 p.m.

Nick Barnes

Nick: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I consider whether it’s smart to reply. I haven’t forgotten how he made me feel.

10:35 p.m.

Nick Barnes

Nick: What can I do to get you to forgive me?

I hesitate. Do I answer? Will this open Pandora’s box?

10:50 p.m.

Kat: I can forgive, but I won’t forget.

10:53 p.m.

Nick Barnes

Nick: That’s fair. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.

But I’d try hard to make you forget.

Okay, this almost sounds suggestive. Maybe I should cut this off before I fall back into the rabbit hole I was in before. I don’t want to lose control with him again.

11:05 p.m.

Nick Barnes

Nick: Is it too late?

Too late for what?Is he asking about the hour, or something else? I can feel my resolve weakening, and know it’s a mistake. I’ve never come across the kind of feelings I have when I’m with him. Sure, I could just be desperate for a man’s touch. But there’s an electricity with him I’ve never experienced before. A charge that’s beyond physical. This man has the potential to really hurt me, and I fear what would happen should I be burnt again. I’m a strong woman. I don’t need this. Deciding to put a lid on this tonight, I text back once more before turning off the light.

11:10 p.m.

Kat: Goodnight, Dr. Barnes

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Present Day

Nick

“Hello,” I answer, only half awake. Man, that call I received at midnight to assist in the ER really messed with my sleep. I think it might’ve been 2:30 a.m. before I finally got in the bed.

“Happy Birthday, Son!” my dad croons into the phone.

“Thanks, Dad,” my voice squeaks. No wonder I’m having a harder time dealing with awakening after little sleep. I’m old as hell. I really don’t know how people survive daily struggles with insomnia.

“Got any plans for the day?” he asks.