Moonlight over Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 6)

personality larger than the Empire State Building. I thought that if I worked harder at it, if I tried to please him, he’d love me. He didn’t. The more he yelled, the more I stammered. I blamed myself. Thought I must be difficult to love. I twisted myself into a pretzel trying to win his approval, but it never happened.” She didn’t mention the one, defining incident that had happened when she was eleven years old.

“Is he alive?”

“He had his first heart attack a few years ago, but yes, he’s alive.” And even when he’d been in hospital, rigged up to machines, he hadn’t wanted to see her. There had been no signs of regret or change in his feelings. That was the moment Harriet had learned that wanting someone to love you wasn’t enough. You couldn’t will it to happen, or change in order to make it happen. If they didn’t love you, the way you were, they were never going to love you.

“Do you see him?”

“The last time was in the summer. I won’t be going again.” And that would be a different kind of challenge. The challenge of choosing reality over hope. Of allowing illusions to be replaced by disillusions. “I kept trying. It felt like the right thing to do, but it makes me feel terrible and he doesn’t want to see me, so I’m done with it. And I’ve learned to handle that.” That wasn’t strictly true, but she’d already told him more than she’d ever told anyone, so she decided enough was enough. “Now tell me about your parents. Judging from the photos around your apartment, you seem to have a regular family.”

“I’m not sure there’s any such thing as a regular family, but yes, I’m lucky with mine. My father is a doctor and so is my mother. My grandfather is a doctor. The conversation around the table can be pretty ‘gross’ according to my niece, and it’s often lively, but it’s a friendly type of arguing.”

“And you wanted to be a doctor from when you were a little boy?”

“No, I wanted to be a champion downhill ski racer like my friend Tyler.”

She laughed. “So why didn’t you?”

“I grew up in a town in Connecticut and skied twice a year if I was lucky. Tyler grew up in Vermont and skied every hour of every day when there was snow. I had to rethink my dream.” He leaned forward, his hands wrapped around the mug. “I grew up assuming I’d be a doctor. I remember once asking my mother if there were any other jobs a person could do, because everyone I knew were doctors.”

“Debra is the only one in your family who isn’t a doctor?”

“She bucked the trend, but she’s shared in enough conversations that she could probably run the emergency room single-handed.” He put his mug down. “Returning to our original conversation, don’t you think you’re a little young to be done with dating?”

“I’m definitely done with the online version. Obviously if I happen to bump into someone gorgeous while I’m walking one of the dogs who turns out to be wonderfully easy to talk to, then that’s different.”

“Does that happen?”

“Not usually, but it’s how my brother, Daniel, met Molly.” She laughed. “In fact that’s not strictly true. Daniel saw Molly walking her dog in the park and decided he wanted to meet her, so he borrowed a dog from us. So although they met while walking dogs, it wasn’t strictly Daniel’s dog.”

Ethan was laughing. “I think I like your brother.”

“I like him too, although there are times when I could strangle him. But to be fair he now owns that dog and Molly is the best thing that has ever happened to him, so I’ve forgiven him for being manipulative.”

“So happy endings all round.”

“Yes. They’re getting married.” And she wasn’t used to the idea yet. “So is Fliss.” She imagined holidays together where everyone was a couple except her. And soon the children would start arriving. She’d be Aunty Harriet.

Envy, she decided, was a truly uncomfortable emotion. It said things about you that you didn’t want to hear. She didn’t want to be someone who was envious of the people she loved most.

“And that feels strange?”

“I’m thrilled for them. I really want them to be happy.”

“Of course you do.” He watched her steadily. “But you can be thrilled and happy for someone and still feel disappointed for yourself. And that’s harder to cope with, because you don’t feel that you’re allowed to feel that way.”

She sighed and finished her chocolate. “How do you know so much?”

“I spend my day around people in trouble.” His gaze held hers. “You’re going through a difficult transition. A major life change. And you’re not happy.”

Was it that obvious? “I have no reason to not be happy. It’s not as if I’ve lost my job or had my heart broken.”

“But in a way you have. You’ve suffered a loss. Loss of a sister you’d lived with for almost all your life. Loss of a lifestyle you loved. And loss of comfort, because everything you’re doing right now feels uncomfortable and that’s stressful. Constantly pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone means we’re in a constant place of fight or flight.”

“The irony is that of the three of us, I was the only one who wanted the whole home and family thing. I guess life is weird that way. I feel pathetic,” she confessed, “because I haven’t really lost her. I can call her anytime.”

“But that’s not the same, is it?” He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t touched her. And yet the tone of his voice was so comforting it felt as if he had. She wouldn’t have thought the man who had shouted at her on that first evening could have been capable of such sensitivity.

“No, it’s not the same.” Her throat thickened. “It’s all the small things. We used to talk about everything all the time. I was the person closest to her. Now that’s Seth. I feel—” She swallowed. “Replaced.”