Page 52 of So Close to You
“Why don’t we have a drink to take your mind off things?” Daphne’s voice carries through the cold night air.
Nerissa lets out a long sigh, watching the steam from her own breath.
“It’s been an extremely difficult day, Daphne. And I don’t think I’m good company.”
“What do you mean? You’re always good company. Come on, have dinner with me,” Daphne suggests, her smile an unambiguous offer of peace. “Just a little time for us.”
There is a brief silence in the parking lot. Nerissa stares at the cup she’s holding, weighing the offer. Behind the column, Seraphina feels an unbearable tightness behind her breastbone. She understands with perfect clarity what Daphne represents to Nerissa at this moment: a safe haven, a Saturday dinner thatdoesn’t end in flight, a legitimate relationship she can show to the world without the weight of guilt.
“I don’t know if this is the best idea, Daphne,” Nerissa murmurs, though the resistance in her voice is minimal.
Daphne smiles with that infinite patience Seraphina has never been able to muster.
“Okay, on second thought. Instead of a boring dinner, let’s go to the pub for a few drinks. You need to disconnect from all this noise.”
The selfless tenderness of the suggestion hurts Seraphina more than any threat Adrian could have made. Because Daphne cares for her—it’s a kind of protection Seraphina is unable to offer Nerissa because of the walls of her own life. After a few seconds of hesitation, Nerissa nods very slowly, letting her shoulders drop in a sign of surrender.
“All right. Let’s go get those drinks.”
Seraphina closes her eyes, pressing her back against the cold concrete of the column. She knows she’s the one who caused this; she’s the one who publicly humiliated Nerissa at the reception and erected the wall of ice to save her from ruin. And yet, the confirmation that the surgeon is retreating to safe ground tears a piece of her soul away.
Chester is dead for good. That brief window of time when they shared laughter, wine, and walks without looking back has been buried by Adrian’s blackmail and the terror of exposure. Seraphina finally gets into her car, her hands trembling uncontrollably on the leather steering wheel. Inside her pocket, her cell phone emits one last notification. This time she doesn’t need to check the screen to be absolutely certain it isn’t Nerissa.
Chapter 18
“I don’t know what I’m doing here…”
Night has fallen over the Northern Quarter, as if Manchester had decided to shut itself away in a silent exhaustion that soaks the streets and blurs the neon lights. Nerissa Ashcombe stands motionless for several seconds in front of the pub’s fogged-up window before deciding to push open the door.
As soon as she crosses the threshold, the scent of aged whiskey and beer completely envelops her. The music playing in the background barely muffles the constant murmur of scattered conversations around her. And that is precisely what she is looking for—the noise of others, a refuge where no one recognizes her as the brilliant orthopedic surgeon who saves athletic careers, nor as the woman who, once again, has just been shut out of Seraphina Chapman’s life.
Although no one knows about that last part. No one, according to her, of course.
Daphne is already waiting for her at the back, seated in one of the private booths. She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater and her hair is hanging loose. As soon as she sees her walk in, she looks up.
“I thought you were finally going to change your mind,” Daphne says as she approaches the table.
Nerissa drapes her coat over the back of the chair and sits down across from her. She sighs before answering.
“Well, I almost did. I had a horrible day at the clinic, and I didn’t feel like doing anything.”
Daphne studies her closely for a few seconds, noting the dark circles under her eyes, the tightness of her lips, and the shadow of exhaustion clouding her expression.
“Well, it was just a bad day,” Daphne says.
Nerissa looks away toward the bar and gives the bartender a discreet nod.
“Give me a straight whiskey, please.”
Daphne sighs and orders the same. Then she waits for the bartender to walk away before speaking again.
“Maeve called me this afternoon. She’s worried about you too.”
“Sure, of course. Because now my ex and my best friend are close. Damn it.”
Nerissa feels the exhaustion growing inside her.
“Maeve lives in a constant state of worry about everyone.”
