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“Darling?” My mother comes to stand next to me. Her arm slips around my waist.
“I thought I was prepared to see him.”
“And were you?”
“Not even close.”
She turns me to face her. “Do you love him?”
“Despite everything, I’m not certain I know how to stop. I just can’t get the memory of what he said out of my head.”
“Memories are like dreams, Laura. Something will happen in your life to shift them so they seem bittersweet instead of just bitter.”
“Does anything replace the pain?”
“Of course.”
“What?”
“Love.”
“How did I know you were going to say that?”
“But when you love, replacing them—even when you’re so livid with them you want to strangle them with your bare hands—”
I can’t help but choke out a laugh at her description of how furious she was at my father.
“—isn’t an option. They’re a part of you. Trying to tell yourself lies to get through the pain of living without them just makes things worse.”
She kisses my cheek before reminding me, “You’re the guest of honor. Don’t brood for too long.”
“I’ll be in soon,” I promise.
But it’s still a while that I stare at the water before I click the link Liam sent me. Then all I want do is sit down on the deck and read.
But I can’t. I have a celebration to return to with people I know who love me.
And I’m not certain if that includes Liam.
From the Journal of Dr. Laura Lockwood
They say we get what we deserve, but if that’s the case, why did you have to show up tonight? Are you serious about a second chance, or is this your opportunity to punish me forever? You said you want me to be happy, but how is that supposed to happen when what I want isn’t but a few minutes away?
I listened to your sessions with Alice. What you went through—the fear and adrenaline pulsating through you, the similarities between incidents, Ashleigh’s lies, and my withholding information. I get it now. Now, I’m crying all over again.
Chapter
Seventy-Three
I never thought the chaos of the ER would ease the turmoil still roiling around in my mind, but it has.
“Take him to trauma room two,” I order as I jog next to the gurney. When I feel a hand flail against my arm, I change to a sashay so I can focus on the patient. “What’s your name, sir?”
“Hen ... dricks,” he manages just before he passes out.
I feel the life drain out of him and let his hand drop. Calmly, I order the team around me, “On my count, one, two, three ...”
We transfer Mr. Hendricks from the EMT’s board with ease.