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“It?” he repeated, trying to understand.

“Us,” she clarified, waving a hand in a vague gesture that included them both.

This just kept getting worse.

“Madison—are you breaking up with me?” He didn’t know how else to phrase it.

She seemed to draw even more tightly into herself, if that were possible. Again, she spoke without actually looking at him. “I would hardly define it that way. Breaking up would imply we had something more than—well, than a weekend fling. Even though it was technically a few days more than a weekend.”

The extent of the pain that shot through him in response to her use of the word fling let him know just how hard he’d fallen for Madison, no matter how brief their time together had been. Apparently, he’d inherited the full Walker capacity for tumbling into love almost overnight—but unlike his fortunate relatives, he had fallen for someone who clearly didn’t return his feelings.

“So, it’s over?” As much as he’d hated to ask, he needed the answer.

“I just think it’s best for now,” she muttered with a nod. “The timing just couldn’t be worse.”

That sounded like an excuse if he’d ever heard one. Hadn’t he assured her earlier that he wouldn’t interfere with her career plans? He would have been content, for the most part, to see her when it was convenient for them both, hoping those encounters, no matter how brief, would eventually lead to a future together. He hadn’t promised it would be easy to maintain a relationship under those circumstances, and he had no doubt it would have been frustrating at times, but he thought they could have made it work, if Madison had been willing to give it a try. Apparently, she didn’t think it was worth the effort.

“Then I won’t interfere with your busy schedule any longer,” he said, heartache erupting in cool temper. “I’ll just get my bag and clear out of your way.”

“Perhaps that would be best,” she repeated.

The fact that she didn’t even attempt to detain him just cut even more deeply. He stalked into the bedroom and grabbed his bag, still finding it hard to believe it was ending this way between them.

“Take care of yourself,” he told her gruffly as he moved toward the door. “I wish you the best of luck in your future.”

“Thank you. Good luck to you, too.”

He didn’t even know what to say to that. Looking over his shoulder one last time, as if to imprint her face in his memories, he let himself out, closing the door with a sharp snap behind him.

Chapter Eleven

Madison lasted all of three minutes after Jason left before bursting into tears.

She had handled that whole scene abysmally. For a psychiatrist, she had no skills at all when it came to dealing with her own emotional crises. Maybe she should have chosen another specialty, she thought with a miserable sniffle.

She paced the living room for an hour, alternately crying and cursing herself for being an idiot. Every time she almost got a grip on her tumultuous emotions, the thought of never seeing Jason again set the tears flowing again.

Her hands were shaking when she poured herself a glass of water and carried it into the living room. She sat on the couch, sipping the cold liquid without even tasting it, staring blankly at nothing while she tried to think rationally.

She had certainly gotten herself into a mess this time. Why did she always have to be the one in the family to do things so differently? Her siblings had very traditionally fallen in love and married before starting their families. Meagan and Mitch had always predicted that Madison’s predilection for impulse would get her into trouble someday. Looked as though they were right.

Pregnant. She drew a shaky breath, still trying to come to terms with the word several hours after seeing the results of a home test. She knew she would have to have the results confirmed, that there was a chance it was a false positive…but deep in her heart, she knew it was true. What she didn’t know was what she would do next.

She would have to talk to Jason eventually. It was only fair. And she knew exactly what his overdeveloped sense of responsibility would lead him to do. She couldn’t bear the thought of him making some big, noble sacrifice for her sake.

He had viewed her as the opposite of all the people depending on him, making demands on him, expecting him to take care of them. She had a lot of decisions to make in the near future, but she was fully capable of making them and dealing with the consequences on her own. She could take care of herself—and this new life, for that matter, if that were her ultimate decision. It wouldn’t be easy, but she could figure it out.

Maybe she didn’t need Jason in her life, but she certainly had grown accustomed to having him there in a very short time, she thought sadly. Maybe they could have had a special relationship in time, but this development had changed everything. She would never know now what might have unfolded between them naturally.

The ringing of a phone made her start and almost spill her water. It wasn’t her ring tone, she realized abruptly, searching the room for the source of the sound. She spotted Jason’s phone on an end table just as it buzzed again.

Groaning, she stared at the device in indecision. She wouldn’t feel right answering his phone, especially under the circumstances. But what if it was an emergency? She had no idea where he’d gone or how to reach him. How long would it take him to notice his phone was missing? Would he come back for it, or would he simply get a new one to avoid having to see her again?

She could hardly blame him if that was his decision. He’d looked angry when he’d left. He must think she’d lost her mind, the way she’d acted that evening. With no warning, she’d all but thrown him out of her apartment, and after they’d had such a lovely breakfast together that morning.

What was wringing her heart in painful spasms was the memory of his expression when he had looked at her just before he’d walked out. In addition to confusing him and angering him, she was pretty sure she had hurt him. And that had never been her intention.

His phone stopped ringing, and she assumed the caller had been transferred to voice mail. She would have to return his phone to him, of course. He’d mentioned his uncle’s name, Dr. Nick Grant, a local pediatrician. Madison didn’t know him, but she could find him. Tomorrow, maybe.

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