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“Me too,” Catherine said, getting angry all over again.

“I don’t know if it helps, but Dean planned to tell you. I know that for a fact. And when I talked to him just now he sounded . . . pretty beat-up.”

She didn’t want to get into whether Dean had intended to tell her. As far as she was concerned, when he went to Jonas to get information on her would’ve been the time to tell her. Still, the thought of Dean suffering made her heart ache. “He told me he loved me, and God help me, but I believed him.”

“He went about this all wrong, Catherine, and I’m not going to sit here and defend his actions,” Wade said. “Still, Dean doesn’t say those words to a woman unless he feels them deep down in his soul. If nothing else you can be certain of that much.”

“What does it matter?” She shrugged. “I’m leaving today. I’ll be in Georgia, and Dean’s life is here. The honeymoon is over.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Wade bit out. “If I know my brother, he’ll give you some breathing room, but don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s just going to let you walk out of his life.”

“The Harrisons are stubborn that way,” Gracie said with a smile that lit up her entire face.

Catherine’s hopes lifted a measure. Would Dean forget her after she left or would he come for her? And what would she do if he did?

Unwilling to ponder that frustrating quandary, Catherine stood. “Well,

I probably should head back to the hotel. I need to get packed and get to the airport.”

“I wish you’d let us see you off,” Wade said as he hugged her close.

“No, those types of big good-byes just make me cry. I’ve cried enough for one day.” She smiled and took Gracie into her arms next. “Thank you, for everything.”

Gracie sniffed. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll be back for the wedding though,” Catherine said, feeling a fresh bout of tears coming on. “And you and Wade are more than welcome to visit me anytime you want.”

Gracie pulled back and asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Catherine pasted on a smile. “I’ll be fine, really.”

After they said their good-byes, Catherine got back into her car and drove away, tears welling up in her eyes. “The flight home is going to be damned miserable,” Catherine groused.

28

Catherine had been depressed for days. Her website design business, which she usually loved, seemed tedious now. She couldn’t stop thinking about Dean. He was on her mind 24/7. At random moments throughout the day, she would get bombarded with thoughts of him. He was everywhere. She couldn’t even bring herself to sleep in her own bed because it felt empty and cold without Dean holding her close. Since arriving back home two weeks ago, Catherine had been sleeping on her parents’ couch.

Mary had called her several times, but she’d avoided her. Catherine didn’t want to have to put on a false front. She didn’t feel like pretending she was fine. That she wasn’t hurting and missing Dean like crazy.

It was Thursday night, and she found herself sprawled out on the couch, sucking down a beer. She didn’t even like beer all that much, but wine made her think of Dean so she avoided the stuff like the plague. Her hair looked like crap, her clothes were wrinkled, and she couldn’t even bring herself to deal with the rest of her parents’ things.

Catherine was angry at herself for falling for Dean. Angry that he’d called her every single day since she’d arrived back home. Angry that he’d sent her flowers—three times. “Men are trouble,” she grumbled.

When the doorbell rang her heart stuttered. She knew it couldn’t possibly be Dean, but she couldn’t help hoping he’d come for her, ready to profess his undying love. When she heard her friend Mary call out to her, Catherine rolled her eyes. “Go away!”

“Open up or I’ll pick the lock.”

Catherine frowned, but deep down she was glad to have her friend’s company. Leaving the couch behind, Catherine went to the door and unlatched it. “You know how to pick locks?” Catherine asked as she opened the door.

Mary merely pushed her way inside and said, “Yes, now what the hell is going on with you?” She looked around at the mess and screwed up her nose. “Uh, it looks like shit in here. What have you been doing for the last two weeks?”

“Working, what else?” Catherine growled as she headed back to the couch. When she picked up her beer to take a drink, Mary arched her brow and plucked it right out of her hand.

“Enough already. Get your butt in the shower before I have to drag you there myself. You look horrible.”

Catherine didn’t take long to think over Mary’s threat. She knew her too well. Mary was always as good as her word. Besides, she was right, she did look like hell.

“I’ll be back.”

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