What good would it have done? She wouldn’t—hell she couldn’t—change her mind. She had to stick with her decision.
And the reason for that is…?
Independence.
God she hated the word. Why
was it she’d decided to be an independent woman right before Damian entered her life?
So, what the hell are you going to do about it?
“Shut up.” She didn’t realize she’d said it aloud until the two people in front of her who had been carrying on a lively conversation turned and glared.
“Sorry. I wasn’t…well, I’m really sorry.” She looked out the window and groaned when the bus pulled away from her stop.
The trek back to her car and the ride home was uneventful. She stopped at the small supermarket near her house and picked up some salad fixings, yogurt, fruit, and, at the last minute, a large package of chocolate chip cookies. Another night in front of the television with nothing to watch, but comfort food by her side. If this kept up, she’d be fifty pounds heavier in no time.
What confused her was the sense of loss surrounding her. Sure, she missed her old neighborhood and co-workers. And if she were honest with herself, she did miss Cody’s parents. A bit. But this was something else. For some bizarre reason, she felt as if she left a body part in Amarillo.
Your heart?
After unlocking the door and storing her purchases in the kitchen, she entered the living room and plopped on the couch with a deep sigh. A tear slid down her face, and she brushed it away. Her gaze roamed the room where everything still sat in boxes. She’d had no interest, or energy, to do anything with the condo, except unpack the absolute necessities of towels, wash cloths, one dish, bowl, fork, knife, and spoon. She hadn’t even used her pots and pans. If it didn’t come in a microwaveable package, she didn’t buy it.
This didn’t feel like home. Her house in Tulsa had been comfortable, but not one she would have bought if given the choice. Cody and his parents had decided on it while she was at work one day. But she’d done a lot in the short time she’d lived there to make it her own.
Maybe on her next two days off she’d finally unpack some stuff and begin to make this place her home. She wandered over to the window and stared at the asphalt parking lot toward the neighboring condos, where the residents didn’t have the luxury of their own driveways. Great view of that, followed by another parking lot for the neighboring condominium complex, cars all neatly slotted in their little spaces. If she opened her window and leaned out far enough to almost tumble to the ground, she could get a glimpse of a few bushes. So different from the tree lined street she’d moved from.
The people at the hospital were friendly. She’d been invited out for drinks and to join a bowling league, but her heart wasn’t in it. The one time she accepted an offer to meet a few co-workers at a local bar, she’d spent the entire time listening to a recently divorced male nurse commiserate about child support payments.
Most times, her reasons for craving independence eluded her. She blew out a large breath and tugged her scrubs off as she headed for the shower.
****
Damian ran his palms up and down Dorothy Lee’s arms. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I really can’t.”
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” She moved back and scowled at him, her eyes narrowed.
They’d been in her apartment for about twenty minutes. No matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t going anywhere. Her perfume was overpowering. Her body pressed up against him didn’t feel right. Her hair was the wrong color and length. Hell, she was even too tall.
Dammit, she wasn’t Kerry.
“It has nothing to do with you, believe me.”
She straightened her low-cut tank top and edged her brightly painted toes into flip flops. “Well, I know that. I don’t ever have a problem. But you,” she wagged her finger in his face, “have a problem.”
Damian ran his fingers through his hair, and picked up his hat from the couch. “Yes, I do. And I’m really sorry for…this.”
She broke into a smile. “It’s okay, cowboy. I’m willin’ to bet you got yourself all tied up in knots over that girl who was in town here a while ago.” She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t look so surprised. Most everyone knows you’re sufferin’.”
He snorted. “Suffering. Yeah, well, that about covers it.”
“Let me give you a bit of advice, honey. If you want that woman, go git her.”
“Not that easy.” He lowered his head, and rested his hands on his hips. “Believe me, not that easy.”
He left to the sound of her comment. “It never is.”
Chapter Ten