Free A Man of Honor by Miranda Liasson

the feeling that she was in the wrong place, leading the wrong life. Everything had felt wrong. Her heart had started racing, and she’d started hyperventilating. Next thing she knew, she’d walked right out of the building and into her car.
    She’d never done anything so unprofessional. What if word got back somehow to her family? Shit, what had she done?
    Restless and hot in the car, her blouse sticking to the skin of her back, she walked into the office building. Preston had said he’d text her when he was finished, but surely he wouldn’t mind if she sat in the waiting room. Maybe by the time he came out, she’d calm down.
    She walked into a bright, sunny room painted a cool tone of blue with a small tabletop fountain near a window surrounded by plants. That seemed very Zen, so she headed to a nearby seat and flipped mindlessly though a magazine. Her stomach grumbled loudly. She hadn’t eaten much breakfast due to her nerves, and it was close to one o’clock. Despite being upset, she was suddenly very hungry.
    The receptionist station was shuttered. A door opened and a kindly looking woman holding some paperwork called back the one other person in the waiting room. What kind of office was this with only one patient and a shuttered desk? She wandered up to the counter in front of the receptionist’s window and took a business card off a pile. It said Anita Garandi, M.D., Psychiatry .
    She froze. Preston was seeing a shrink? Oh. Well, she’d definitely go back out in the car and wait, protect his privacy. Not for the first time, she wondered what was really going on with him. Somehow, she sensed from the beginning that it involved much more than his wounded leg. What the hell had happened to him over there, and was it the reason he’d pushed her away?
    Despite her resolve to get over Preston, she felt a faint glimmer of hope. She still couldn’t stop indulging the fantasy that he’d pushed her away for reasons that had more to do with what was going on inside him than outside.
    There she went again. Dreaming things were different. Grow up, Cat , she scolded herself. Being dumped has made you pathetic . It seemed, surprisingly, to make her cling even more ferociously to her belief that true love conquers all. But sooner or later, she would have to stop fantasizing about a fairy-tale ending and get on with real life.
    Her phone suddenly dinged with a text. Where are you? From Preston. She immediately ran to the door and pushed it open. Maybe she could make it back to her car before he saw her.
    She ran right into the hard wall of muscle that was his chest. He reflexively placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her, and for just a moment, a desperate desire hit her to stay right there, rest her head against his solid body, feel the comfort of being in his arms like she’d dreamed so many times during the time when he was away. Tell him everything that was on her mind, like they’d done last fall. Tell him how much she’d missed him—missed what they had—and make his barriers come down.
    For the thousandth time, she had to remind herself that he had thrown their relationship away. Had thrown her away. She had to move on for her own self-respect.
    “What were you doing in there?” His voice was a low growl.
    “Waiting for you. What are you doing out here?”
    “I left through the separate exit. You shouldn’t have gone in there.”
    “I—I’m sorry. I was getting sweaty waiting in the car, so I thought I’d come inside.” She’d keep the details of her shitty day to herself.
    They walked in silence to the car. He limped around to the passenger side and got in, his shoulders set in a rigid line. She started the car and let it idle, let the air-conditioning flood in.
    It offered little relief. Cat didn’t know what to do. It was too late to pretend that she didn’t know what kind of doctor he was seeing. He was a proud man, and he’d always hated to show any sign of weakness. She wondered how