Nothing Else Matters (Romance on the Go Book 0) Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Peri Elizabeth Scott

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-929-4

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  My thanks to my go-to beta reader Karen Hawk for her input on Nothing Else Matters! You're one of those people I can always count on.

  NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

  Romance on the Go ®

  Peri Elizabeth Scott

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  The doctor stepped inside the office, slinging his stethoscope around his neck, hands then tugging on the ends. His white coat was pristine above a pair of dark, pressed pants and shiny, black shoes. He was very different from old Dr. Jacobs.

  He met her gaze. “Claire Booth?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Dr. Salinger.” He strode to the desk and settled in, staring at the computer monitor. “You’re here for a pregnancy test.”

  “Yes. I mean, I’ve taken two over-the-counter tests a day apart, and one was positive, the other negative.” To say her mood had swung from euphoric to devastated in a twenty-four-hour period was an understatement. “So I made this appointment.”

  “Hmmm.” He scrolled through a bunch of typing on the screen. “Dr. Jacobs concludes you’re in good health.”

  “Yes.” That meant she could manage a pregnancy, right?

  He turned his head to look at her, and she noted how young he seemed. And unfamiliar. He said, “Single?”

  “What?” Was he asking about her marital status? Hitting on her? His stare was unnerving. Or maybe her brain was still in chaos.

  “Are you still unmarried?” he asked.

  “Why?” Lord, Dr. Jacob’s adolescent replacement was a traditionalist.

  He blinked. “Uh, just keeping the records updated.”

  Right. She stared at him, and he typed rapidly before printing out a form. “Here’s a requisition for the lab.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Once you’re done, take a seat in the waiting room.” The sounds of his footsteps and rustle of his white coat diminished as he went through the open door.

  Regardless of the test results, she was finding another physician.

  Back in the waiting room, having supplied the necessary samples, she leafed through a parenting magazine. She wondered what it said about her that she was so desperate for the test to confirm a pregnancy when not only was she single, she had no idea where the father was or why he’d dumped her.

  A cheerful female voice directed her back to the doctor’s office, and Claire smiled her thanks.

  “Dr. Salinger will be back a moment.”

  Initially perching on the edge of the chair, she then slouched back and put on a nonchalant face, the entire time willing Salinger to return, bearing good news. Otherwise, she might shoot the messenger. When the doctor strode back in, she tried to read his face.

  “It’s negative, Claire.” His deep voice seemed carefully neutral.

  No. Just no. “But I haven’t had my period, and I’m very regular. And I’ve been sick several mornings in a row.”

  He shook his head, a hint of surprise in his eyes. Had he thought he was delivering good news? “I’m sorry. There are a variety of things to explain false symptoms.”

  The last several months of her life had been nothing but false. “I see.”

  “Sometimes women who badly want a child can convince themselves—and their bodies—that it’s true. Other times, it’s hormonal, brought on by a change in circumstances.”

  Great. Now she was a nut case. She faked a deprecating smile even as tears pricked the back of her eyes. She fought them back. She’d hadn’t allowed herself to cry, not even behind closed doors since Liam left, hiding her heartbreak, hanging on to her pride. Now, that was all she had left, and it was imperative that it remain intact.

  “No reason not to try again,” he said.

  A burst of hysterical laughter nearly escaped. If only he knew. Or maybe he’d seen past her mask and was reaching out. She always tried to see the good in people, but she needed to go hide and lick her wounds.

  “Thanks for your time.” She gathered up her purse and hustled to the door, ignoring his concerned look.

  She held herself together, crushed with disappointment, all the way to her car, and managed to drive home safely despite the scalding moisture blurring her vision. She no longer had the love of her life, and she had to accept there wasn’t a part of him carried in her womb, either. What else did she have that mattered?

  Entering her house, it felt as though she was stepping out of the real world as she closed the door on it. She was really, really tired.

  Her phone jangled in her purse, the ringtone belonging to her best friend, Joanne. Thank goodness Jo had been too preoccupied with her precocious twins to pick up on Claire’s angst since…

  She shut down that mode of thinking. There was the before, and this was now, and if she was to exist in the future, she had to let the past go. If she’d convinced everyone else, then she’d simply convince herself. No reason not to—now.

  “Hey, Jo.”

  “She lives!”

  What the hell did that mean? “Uh…”

  Her friend laughed, but there was something serious behind it. “You’ve dropped out of sight. I thought it was just me, but everyone says so.”

  Dropped out of sight. Huh. She must have been taking lessons from the man who should never be named again. “I wouldn’t say I dropped out of sight.”

  “Hey, I might not be the social butterfly with the terrors tying me down, but you’ve been incognito, period. What’s going on?”

  Knowing her friend as she did, worse than a dog with a bone, Claire sighed. She really needed to wrap this up and get some rest. Her body was as heavy as lead and her brain like mush. But Jo deserved an explanation. “I might have taken Liam’s … abdication harder than I let on.”

  “Bastard.” Jo’s immediate, heartfelt support didn’t make a dint.

  Claire set a hand against her belly—her empty belly—and pondered the label, her mouth twisting. “It’s fine, Jo. It really doesn’t matter. I’m over it now.”

  “You are not over it.”

  “I will be. Soon. Listen, I’m too worn out to talk, okay?”

  A moment of silence stretched out, but her friend wasn’t put off or hurt. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Let me in, okay? Accept what you’d give others without a qualm.”

  “Okay.” She had no idea how she’d comply, but she needed to be alone.

  Hanging up, she found herself unable to lift her shoulders from their exhausted slump. On autopilot, she locked up and pulled all the blinds. A shower might clear the cobwebs, but she couldn’t drum up the energy, so she went to bed. The dimness of her surroundings suited her, no matter the time of day.

  Liam’s handsome face haunted her until she banished him, struggling to shove away the memories they’d built. Maybe if she’d tried just one more time to reach him… Maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe… She corralled her whirling thoughts and strangled them, onl
y to have them rise up and torment her again.

  She’d made a desperate last-ditch attempt and located a man living in Liam’s housing complex who advised Liam came and went on a regular basis. And his attitude suggested she wasn’t the only woman asking. If she was truthful with herself, that was the moment her pride kicked in. Except by then, she’d believed herself pregnant, and it was easier to maintain, easing some of that bone-deep loss.

  Ah, but she was a survivor, and she just needed to recharge.

  Her cell shrilled, and at times her doorbell rang, annoying intrusions into a kind of stasis she finally acquired. Those interruptions went away until a hand landed on her shoulder, and insistently shaking, dragged her to the surface.

  “Claire.” Joanne’s face loomed, forehead furrowed with concern, her eyes shiny with tears, and pushed past Claire’s lethargy.

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s past noon. On Sunday! Days after you came home. I had to track your landlord down for a key. I might have gotten you evicted. He thinks you’re on drugs. Overdosed.”

  Did she care? Not enough to lift her head.

  “Honey, there’s your job to think about too.”

  A vague memory of a long weekend flitted through her brain.

  “You’re depressed or something. I’m not leaving you to this.” Joanne’s tone was infused with the firmness she took, on occasion, with her children.

  It was the thought of her friend’s twins that spurred Claire into action if that action consisted of opening her eyes and pushing up on one elbow. Her head spun, and she blinked the room into focus. Her nostrils twitched, and she winced, knowing the unpleasant odor came from her.

  “I’ll get up.” Not that she felt refreshed.

  Joanne considered her, visibly weighing the words for truth, or maybe for motivation. “I’ll fix you something to eat. You’re visibly dehydrated.”

  She stumbled to the bathroom, secretly shocked at her weakness. When had she last eaten, drunk anything? What was wrong with her?

  Using the toilet, her humiliation was complete—she’d started her period, freed from the wishful thinking by her doctor’s visit.

  She avoided her reflection until after a hot shower and handfuls of shampoo and body wash. Wrapped in a towel, she chanced a look. Aside from a sunken look around her eyes and below her cheekbones, she appeared much the same, though she couldn’t detect a great deal of emotion in the woman looking back at her. Kinda … flat.

  Dismissing the observation, she drew a comb through the damp strands of hair, concentrating on all the routine instances to get through the next while. Moisturizer, deodorant, judicious use of toothpaste and floss. She’d pass for human, anyhow.

  She tugged on her soft, well-worn robe before trudging to the kitchen, the smell of eggs and toast drawing her there.

  Running an assessing look over her, Joanne nodded. “That’s better, but sit down before you fall. I made herbal tea. Peppermint. I’m not sure how your stomach is faring.”

  “It’s fine.” She stared down at the poached egg on toast her friend set in front of her, along with a steaming cup of tea. She wasn’t hungry at all. This was crazy.

  “Eat a little. Your appetite will wake.”

  Obeying the suggestion, she sliced a small portion and chewed, surprised Joanne was right as the food went down easily. A sip of tea was also welcome.

  “This is some kind of delayed reaction to Liam. Like you overworked your brain trying to deal with it all by yourself and needed a really long nap.” Joanne announced the diagnosis with the aplomb of a certain television shrink Claire despised.

  “Maybe.” She drank more tea. “Can we not talk about it?”

  “And have you slip back into whatever that was? Honey, no man is worth that.”

  Her friend probably didn’t realize it, but that inferred there was something wrong with Claire for falling apart. Obviously, there was. She was weak. The paltry amount of food she’d swallowed curdled in her belly.

  Joanne asked, “You know that, right? He’s not worthy of you. You’re better off without him and—”

  “I thought I was pregnant by him.” Claire’s abrupt interjection silenced her friend who stared, blue eyes wide. “I found out it was a wishful pregnancy, complete with all the symptoms. That’s how much he’s worth to me. How much I loved him.” How crazy I am.

  “Wow.”

  “Crazy, huh?”

  “I… I wouldn’t say crazy. I just can’t believe how well you hid all this!” Jo grabbed her hand, rocking the teacup as she did so. “And I didn’t mean to crap all over your feelings. I’m so sorry. I should know better. You’re not there yet.”

  Where was she supposed to be? Over him? Probably. Hadn’t she thought that very thing—survival—right before she took her two-day nap? There was a phase where women badmouthed their exes, and everyone assured them they were the lucky ones to escape. She hadn’t found that phase yet. Could she, with no closure?

  “Do you have any idea what happened between you and Liam?” The query dropped between them, Joanne trying to regroup and have her talk it out. Shades of Dr. Fake. Who apparently had nothing to say about phantom pregnancies.

  Claire knew she wasn’t like other people and tried not to take offense. “No idea whatsoever. He left one morning and … nothing.”

  “Aren’t you concerned something happened to him?”

  “No.”

  “Um … because?”

  “His neighbor says he travels often and I wasn’t the only woman looking.”

  “Bastard.” She wished Jo would come up with another denigrating description. “And to think I liked him. And liked him for you. He seemed so … entranced. I was shocked when you said you guys broke up but then you were so cool about it. I should have known better.”

  “Your life doesn’t revolve around me, Joanne.”

  Face softening, her friend said, “I love you, Claire. We’re complete opposites, yet we’re best friends. I plead mother brain, but I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” She was tired of the conversation, tired period.

  “You really wanted a baby, huh?”

  His baby. Which spoke to the state of her mind. Whacked. A sad case. “I did. But now it’s time to let go.”

  She really wished no one knew the truth, not even Jo. And she hoped no one else found out, not the rest of her friends. Her pride lay in splinters around her feet, and she’d counted on that to go forward. Determinedly independent. And if that didn’t say something about her ability to nurture relationships, nothing would. No wonder Liam had walked out of her life.

  Wry acceptance washed through her, and she finished her toast. “Honest, Jo. I’m fine. Moving on.”

  “For shit’s sake, Claire.” Her friend shoved her cup away, tears standing in her eyes. “You’ve got the biggest, most giving heart of anyone I know. Everyone in our circle has depended on you at one time or another. It was only me understanding your need for privacy that they aren’t all here.”

  Alarm made her skin prickle. She couldn’t bear the idea of people fawning over her, seeing how weak she was. “I appreciate that. Seriously.”

  Her face softening, Jo sniffed and said, “You don’t have to do everything yourself. It’s okay to depend on others at times. Especially when you don’t have any family.”

  She’d allowed that once and look where it got her. Should’ve known better. But she made herself nod and smile. “I know.”

  “Uh huh. You let it sink in because I’ll be reminding you. A lot.”

  “I might have to come live with you, if I’m evicted, so you’ll have lots of opportunities.” Maybe if she tried a little humor, this would all just stop.

  Eyes widening, Jo said, “Oh, not to worry. I just said that to encourage you. Your landlord thinks you’re ill and was only too happy to hand over a key. I could hardly talk him out of coming with me and had to text him about your status. He thinks the world of you. Says you’re his model ten
ant.”

  It should have been a relief to hear that she still had a roof over her head. But a move, a fresh start had its appeal. She’d think on that sudden thought.

  Standing, she gathered up the dishes. “I’m going to clean up and get organized.” She glanced at the calendar on the fridge. “I’ve apparently lost a couple of days, and I have work tomorrow.”

  “You promise not to go back to bed?”

  “I promise.” She offered a pinky swear, and Jo drew her in for a hug. She allowed the fond embrace for a moment, terminating it when heat pricked the back of her eyes.

  “Come for dinner. Sid’s mom is visiting, and I’d welcome another layer of distance.”

  She couldn’t entertain the idea of seeing Joanne’s two perfect boys. “Not today, sorry.”

  Understanding gleamed in her friend’s blue eyes. “Okay. Another time. But you call me. Tonight.”

  “I will.”

  As soon as the door closed after Joanne, followed by the sound of her van reversing down the drive, Claire sank into a chair. She was tempted to go straight back to bed, but she’d promised.

  There was nothing to say she had to rush, though, and it was some time before she pushed to her feet and doggedly began to clean the house and do laundry. All the while, she wrestled with and consigned inconvenient thoughts somewhere that they couldn’t be easily accessed and flirted with the idea Joanne had inadvertently inserted into her head.

  Staying here would continue to remind her of Liam at every turn—she missed him so much, if she allowed herself to think about it. Moving would surely make it easier. And she might escape this feeling that she’d gone over the edge, let love destroy her mental health.

  Chapter Two

  He’d never been so glad to be stateside—ever. The flight was as comfortable as any overseas flight could be, but knowing he was on the homeward stretch caused each second to crawl by excruciatingly slowly. At times he’d thought he could fly faster, so great was his need to get home.