Heart Conditions (The Breakup Doctor Series Book 3) by Phoebe Fox Page A

sustain my current pace, and I had resigned myself to being maxed out where I was.
    If I could do more, reach more people…The idea held massive appeal.
    But any enthusiasm I felt was overshadowed by anger—and hurt. Michael hadn’t come back here to ask my forgiveness, or tie up our badly frayed loose ends, or even to try to get me back, as I’d narcissistically convinced myself.
    He’d simply seen a business opportunity.
    “No,” I said flatly, forcing myself to stay planted in my seat and take a casual swig of my beer. Leaving in a wounded huff would only show Michael that he could still affect me—and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
    Michael blinked. “No? Just no?” He stared at me intently, eyebrows bunched together, and then shifted his gaze down to the table. “Oh. This is because of me, isn’t it,” he said quietly. “Because of what I did.”
    I gave a humorless laugh. “Believe it or not, Michael, it isn’t. My practice is quite different from what I used to do as a therapist when you knew me. I don’t know how to explain it to you in a way you’ll understand. It’s about personal connections. Heart. It’s not something I’m willing to turn into a Jerry Springer sideshow or some reality-TV garbage. Yes, I’m sure you could pimp the idea out and reach more people—but minus the soul of what I do.”
    One corner of his mouth turned up in a rueful grin. “I deserved that. I didn’t mean to come on like a bulldozer. I guess…I’m just nervous.”
    “Nervous about what?”
    That half grin ghosted away. “About you, Brook. What else?”
    The words sent an odd jolt through my chest—the intimacy of the way he said “you.” The way he spoke my name.
    “Nervous about what ,” I repeated, but this time my voice was thready.
    He didn’t look up, shredding the ragged edge of his coaster with a fingernail, and I realized I’d been so distracted I’d missed his “tells”—fidgeting, breaking eye contact, the anxious busywork of his hands. I could see his Adam’s apple lift and fall as he swallowed and then finally answered.
    “I really do admire what you’re doing, Brook. For the reason you said—it’s personal, it has real heart. And I think there’s so much opportunity to widen your reach, give more people the chance to take advantage of what you’re offering. But that’s not why I’m here.” He looked up, and the impact of his green eyes shooting directly into mine stopped my heart for a flash of a second. “I’m here for you . Because it took me much too long, and I’m scared as hell I’m way too late. But if I don’t try I’ll never be able to live with that.”
    Every drop of saliva seemed to leave my mouth like a tide retreating before an oncoming tsunami.
    “Try…what?” I croaked out after the long silence had grown suffocating.
    “Us.”
    For a second I forgot to breathe. It was exactly what I’d feared…and exactly what I’d once wanted most.
    The most universally cherished breakup fantasy is this: that one day the person who dumped you will come crawling back, professing that he made a mistake, begging you to give him a second chance.
    But now that that fantasy was here, I didn’t feel like crowing my triumph and rubbing Michael’s nose in all he’d thrown away. Nor did my pain magically feel erased. If anything, a supernova of sorrow exploded in my chest at his single, chest-quaking word. This felt almost…worse. Michael loved me. He wanted me back. The last two world-shattering years didn’t ever have to happen.
    I ached with it.
    But none of this exited my mouth in the form of words; I just sat staring, my head shaking side to side as if of its own accord.
    “I’m not so stupid that I think we can pick back up where we left off,” Michael went on, oblivious to the whirlwind of thoughts crowding my head. “I blew that. But maybe…maybe we can start over? Slowly—I’m not pushing you. Let me date you. Let me know you again. Get