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

to know me now, Brook—I’ve changed.”
    I knew he had. Or I desperately wanted to believe it from what I’d seen since he came back. I’d changed too. For the better, I thought.
    Was there a possibility that all we’d needed was time to grow up a little more?
    He didn’t wait for me to come up with a reply, but reached across the table and took my cold hand in his, my fingers curling into his through sheer subconscious muscle memory.
    “There’s still something here, Brook,” he said, his warm thumb stroking the back of my hand. “Please give me—us—another chance. I swear to God, I will not screw it up this time.”
    It was hard to breathe, and Michael’s face had grown blurry where tears had clouded my vision.
    The two years with this man had contained some of the best moments of my life. The two years since had encompassed some of the worst, after everything I’d thought was certain had been yanked out from beneath me. Because of Michael I’d hit lower than any rock-bottom I’d ever known before. I’d turned into someone half-crazed I barely recognized, frozen in place in my relationships to the point where I’d finally had to step completely away from them.
    Wasn’t it just last night my heart was leaping at the thought of Ben and me getting back on track? How could I be thinking of Michael in the same way?
    He was right, though. There had been something real between us. Something rare.
    I wasn’t willing to completely shut that door.
    But I wasn’t ready to throw it wide-open either.
    I eased my hand out of his grasp, and reached into my purse to lay a ten on the table. Michael’s expression clouded.
    “It…” My voice faltered, and I swallowed and started over. “It took me a long time to survive getting over you, Michael. I’m scared to risk having to do it again.”
    “I can understand that,” he began. “But—”
    “No—don’t say anything yet.” I pushed myself up out of the booth and stood looking down at his painfully, achingly dear face.
    “I am willing to try for a friendship,” I said. “If you were serious about working with me to expand the Breakup Doctor practice we can try it. Slowly ,” I added quickly when his face brightened. “And I have final approval on anything you do. Don’t give me your answer yet,” I said, holding up a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “You have to swear you won’t try to win me over in the meantime. I’m too vulnerable where you’re concerned, and I have to know that I can let you back into my life a little bit without being frightened that you’ll take me over.” I looked down, blinking away moisture, and then met his eye again. “Give me some time to think about this. To get used to it. I can’t promise you I’ll be able to…to try again.”
    His eyebrows drew together, and a wounded look crept into his eyes—only to clear like a passing storm at my next words:
    “But I can’t promise you that I won’t.”

ten

      
    I did not call Sasha.
    I had to actually physically stop myself from doing it—by hiding my cell phone from myself just as I would after a breakup—but I already knew her feelings about Michael. I needed a little space to figure out mine. And yet after lying awake long into the night thinking about what he’d said, I still had no idea what I wanted.
    At group therapy the next morning, I felt a little bit like a hypocrite.
    Chrissie Tomas finished sharing and set the claw—the garden cultivator I’d brought in when I’d first started the group sessions to signify that whoever was holding it had the floor and was not to be interrupted—back in the center of the circle. She had been telling us for the last ten minutes why she was still constantly calling her boyfriend who’d dumped her two weeks ago—because he was also her best friend and she needed him to help her get through the breakup.
    “You can’t be friends with your ex,” slipped automatically out of my mouth, and a few heads