She read the card one more time; only this time she studied it. She usually avoided examining the handwriting of those closest to her. It had gotten her in trouble before, costing her more than one relationship when she saw things the other person didn’t want her to. But her gut, or maybe it was self-preservation, told her to analyze Danny’s.
Protection leaped out at her first. He wanted to protect her. She shut her eyes for a moment and held the card to her pounding chest. His protective instincts were unmatched, but he believed protection only came in the physical form. God, how she wanted to make him see that wasn’t the case.
With a heavy sigh, she focused again on his penmanship. He was a thinker, and took things seriously. He also needed to be true to himself, first and foremost, and resented being pushed for more than he was willing to give. The spacing between his words indicated he needed breathing room.
But.
His handwriting consisted of more than one style and her heart beat harder when she realized what emotion jumped out the most: love. He loved her.
Which made everything worse.
Because she couldn’t make him see he loved her. She couldn’t get him to accept his disease without conditions. Or trust her when she said she didn’t care if he could see for miles or see nothing. He had to come to those conclusions on his own.
No single handwriting feature proved something absolute, but combined with how well she personally knew Danny her head swam with what-ifs.
His absence spoke volumes, though, and hurt more than she wanted it to. He’d always blame himself for every little bum thing that happened to her or the baby.
Could they go back to being best friends?
Her head said yes, but her heart couldn’t muster the same response. Not yet. Not when he’d broken it. With time, though, she’d be okay. And that’s when they could be friends again. Next week. Next month. She’d have to wait and see.
She put her hands on her stomach and silently thanked the blessings she did have right now.
Tomorrow she’d begin again.
Chapter Fourteen
The second Danny walked into the house on Friday afternoon, the stale air, unwelcome quiet, and lack of scent told him Liv had moved out. He dropped the bags of clothes he’d bought in L.A. on the kitchen floor and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. It took all of two seconds for loneliness to seep into his bones.
Thank you for your card, her text had said. She told him she needed some time and space and ended with the fact that she and the baby were good, like the two of them were an afterthought. It stung like hell for her to feel that way.
He’d replied, Okay.
Okay? What the fuck was wrong with him? Could he be any more of a dick?
He wandered into the garage where the familiar and much needed smell of wood, sawdust, and stain greeted him. All of his meetings had gone exceptionally well. Between the hotel and the Downey job, ten to twelve-hour days loomed before him for the coming months. The Vanity Fair article was slated for March. Jennifer predicted another boom in interest after that.
By nine p.m., his hands were tired, his back sore. He congratulated himself on looking at the finished crib in the corner only a couple of times while he’d worked, then he hit the sack.
Saturday morning he rose early, opened the garage door to a cold, but sunny day, and got busy again, happy he didn’t have to risk running into anyone in town. Solitude had always been more his speed. Over the past few months with Liv around, he’d forgotten that.
A few hours later a text sounded on his cell. He wiped a hand across his brow and quickly reached it for, thinking maybe… But it was Bryce inviting him over for dinner. Danny declined. The newly engaged couple didn’t need him playing third wheel. As he set the phone down another text pinged. This time it was Zane sending a picture of himself holding Hannah upright, her tiny feet touching a small surfboard on a beach in Hawaii. Their first full day on Kauai looked to be perfect. Hannah wore a bathing suit with bright red flowers, a floppy white hat, and a toothless smile. Zane wasn’t just smiling. He was grinning like he’d won the intergalactic lottery. The caption “first smile” accompanied the picture.
Danny sat down on the end of the sawhorse and stared at the photo on his cell for a long time. He was thrilled his friend had found so much happiness, but his chest burned with envy. Last year, Zane had almost lost Sophie, letting his self-doubt get in the way of the best thing to ever happen to him. Didn’t Danny’s situation boil down to the same thing? Uncertainty. Thinking the other person was better off with someone else.
Not for the first time, Danny wondered about Will. Had Liv gone back to him?
“She’s gonna break hearts one day.”