Page 234 of The Professor's Wife

It didn’t mean he wasn’t there.

Stupid, Daisy.

I had mistaken a few unpunished minutes for courage. I had walked into the restaurant feeling almost brazen, as though lowered alarms and a crowded patio had somehow placed me beyond his reach. But now every doorway looked like somewhere he might appear, and every stranger seemed capable of turning toward me with his eyes.

Uneasy, I looked back at Tristan.

His brows had drawn together, as though he could sense what I was about to do.

I didn’t want to leave, but the fear was too great to ignore.

I looked away, not wanting to see his reaction.

Then I stood and abandoned my table, hurrying out of the restaurant.

His song stopped immediately.

I didn’t turn around.

I kept my face down, terrified I had made a terrible mistake. Oliver might already be at the clinic, asking where I was.

My stomach turned at the thought of waking in the cabin the next morning.

Was this worth it, Daisy?he would ask.

Sweat broke across my face as I hurried down the street toward the clinic. My ribs ached because I hadn’t had any real exercise in so long.

I wrenched the clinic door open, panting hard.

I stood there with my hair plastered against my sweaty skin, looking frantically around the waiting room.

At every face.

“Are you all right?” the receptionist asked.

I swallowed, trying to catch my breath.

“I…I was worried I missed my turn.”

“You’re not even close, hon.”

I walked farther into the waiting room and spun around, searching every patient.

Then I returned to the desk.

The receptionist was watching me warily now.

I schooled my panicked expression. “Did my husband come asking for me?”

She shook her head. “No one has asked.”

“No suited man came through? Tall and broad with jet-black hair?”

“Not that I’ve seen.”

The look she gave me was almost pitiful.

“Are you truly all right?”