Page 83 of Miss Fortune

I helped her to her car, impressed with how she was able to fit everything into her Prius. But then came the inevitable silence with her earlier unanswered question between us.

She blew out a long breath. “Why can’t you talk to me, Caleb?”

My own sigh was full of regret. “I talk to you more than to most people.” It wasn’t enough, but I needed her to know how significant it was.

“Can you tell me what happened last Monday? I realize me staying over disrupted your routine, but—”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “It’s just the way I am, Daisy. And at some point, everyone in my life gets tired of dealing with it.” My parents had shipped me off, and my wife had left me. And no matter how much work I put into trying to be normal enough for other people, it never made one bit of difference in the final outcome.

She stepped closer to me, laying her hand on my chest. “I’m not tired of it. I just want to understand.”

“I know you do.” I pulled her into me, hugging her tight.

She leaned back, her expression as sad as I was feeling. “Why do I feel like this is goodbye?”

I retreated from her, emotion clogging my throat. “Because I knew I’d eventually make you unhappy. It was just a matter of time. I was meant to be alone.” Telling her about my disorder would accomplish what? Call attention to all of the things she hadn’t noticed yet but soon would, like my ex? It would be selfish to burden her with my secret because, no matter how I played out the scenario, she would leave me in the end.

“My grandmother always said whether you believe you will or you won’t, you’re right. If you believe you’re better off alone and you don’t deserve happiness, then it’ll always be true. Goodbye. I wish you well.”

Her words knocked the breath from me and hurt more than I ever could’ve imagined. It took every ounce of strength to let her go, but in the end, I knew I had to.

* * *

It had been a week since I’d last spoken with Daisy. It felt like a year. I found myself running by her apartment each morning in the hope—what? I’d bump into her and pretend I wasn’t a pathetic stalker? I didn’t remember being this upset after my ex-wife left me.

Doris had pried several times, trying to figure out what was wrong, but I’d shut her out. I shut the whole world out. I went through the motions at work, underneath it all completely in a funk.

I answered Doris’s call on Monday evening as I was ready to pack up and head home. “Yes, Doris.”

“Tabitha Owings is here to see you.”

It had been months since I’d ended our association, so why the hell would she come to my office? “We don’t have an appointment.”

“She says it’s urgent. You should probably see her before she makes a scene in the lobby.”

Just what I needed. “Can you find a conference room?”

“Surely. I’ll put her into conference room D.”

The first thing I noticed when I walked in was Tabitha’s smudged mascara and unkempt hair. Typically she was polished and put together. “Hello, Tabitha. Everything okay?”

Her mouth wobbled. “Um, no, not really.”

My eyes wandered down to see her resting her hand...on her very pregnant belly.

“I see things have significantly changed for you?” I tried to keep it light.

“You could say that.” She licked her lips, her gaze darting around. “Don’t worry. It’s not yours.”

“I wasn’t worried. I had a vasectomy ten years ago.” After my ex had made it so clear I wasn’t fit for starting a family, I’d agreed and done something about it. “Who’s the father?”

Instead of answering, she burst into tears.

Shit. I grabbed a box of tissues from a nearby table and handed them over.

“He’s the managing partner at my firm. And because he’s married, he wants absolutely nothing to do with me or the baby. It’s made things stressful at work.”

“I’m sorry. Regardless of how he’s acting, he’s responsible financially.”