1
Nina
I'm pretty sure this qualifies as rock bottom.
I pull into Joel Hartford's driveway just as the sun starts its descent behind the Connecticut hills, painting everything in shades of pink and gold that would be beautiful if I wasn't such a goddamn mess. My eyes are swollen from crying for the past three hours, my nose is raw from the cheap gas station tissues, and I'm wearing the same leggings I slept in last night because I couldn't bring myself to care about anything as trivial as getting dressed this morning.
The house is gorgeous—of course it is. Joel's an orthopedic surgeon, and this place screams success with its stone facade, perfectly trimmed hedges, and those expensive-looking wreaths on every window. White lights are strung along the roofline, twinkling in the fading daylight, and through the front windows I can see a massive Christmas tree, beautifully decorated.
Great. Even his house is perfect.
I cut the engine and sit there, gripping the steering wheel, trying to pull myself together. Alexis and I were supposed to arrive together tomorrow afternoon—my parents won a Christmas cruise and left last week, so spending the holidays with my best friend and her dad seemed perfect. But then my ex dumped me yesterday, and Alexis texted this morning that her flight from LA got delayed until tomorrow because of some production emergency. I couldn't face another night alone in my apartment, surrounded by my ex’s leftover things and the ghost of our failed relationship, so I just... left. Not with all of that stuff still there. Not with the ghost of his voice telling me I need to be "more his type."
Fresh tears burn behind my eyes and I squeeze them shut, pressing my palms against my eyelids.Don't cry. Don't cry. You've cried enough for that asshole.
But apparently my body disagrees, because the tears come anyway, hot and furious and so damn exhausting.
I don't know how long I sit there, but eventually there's a tap on my window that makes me jump so hard I bang my knee on the dashboard.
Joel Hartford is standing beside my car, concern etched across his handsome face.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
I roll down the window, trying frantically to wipe my face with my sleeve. "Dr. Hartford, hi, I'm so sorry, I know I'm early, Alexis said it was okay if I—"
"Nina." His voice is warm, gentle. "Come inside. You look frozen."
I am frozen. I've been sitting here crying long enough that the car has gone cold, and now that I'm aware of it, I'm shivering. I grab my purse and overnight bag from the passenger seat and stumble out of the car on numb legs.
Joel takes my bag without a word, his hand settling on my lower back as he guides me toward the front door. It's just a polite gesture, the kind of thing any friend's dad would do, but heat blooms where his palm presses against my coat and I feel it radiate through my entire body.
Stop it. This is not the time for your ridiculous crush to make an appearance.
Inside, the house is even more beautiful than I expected. Warm hardwood floors, a staircase with garland wrapped around the banister, and that tree I saw from outside dominating the living room. It smells like pine and cinnamon and something baking.
"I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow with Alexis," Joel says, setting my bag by the stairs. "But you're welcome here anytime, you know that."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
His blue eyes study me and I can see him taking in my tear-stained face, my rumpled clothes, the way I'm barely holding it together. "Let me make you some tea."
"You don't have to—"
"Nina." He says my name again, and something about the way it sounds in his deep voice makes my throat tighten. "Come sit down."
I follow him into the kitchen, which is all white marble and stainless steel with copper pots hanging from a rack above the island. He pulls out a stool for me and I sink onto it gratefully, watching as he fills a kettle and sets it on the stove.
Those hands. God, I've always been a little obsessed with his hands—broad and capable with long fingers, the hands of a surgeon. Hands that save people. I watch him measure loose-leaf tea into a strainer.
"When did you get into town?" he asks, not looking at me.
"About twenty minutes ago." My voice comes out scratchy. "I drove straight through from the city. I know I should have called first, but Alexis said—"
"She told me you might come early. She's worried about you." Now he does look at me, and the kindness in his expression nearly undoes me all over again. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really." I press my lips together, trying to hold everything in. "I mean, it's stupid. Breakup stuff. Everyone goes through it."
The kettle starts to whistle and Joel pours the water over the tea, the steam rising between us. He sets the mug in front of me and leans against the counter across from me.
