Page 26 of Merry Fake Bride

“Thank you.” Larson steps closer to me while maintaining a friendly distance. “How is the fatigue? Did you sleep alright?”

“No, but that’s just me. I can’t sleep in unfamiliar places.”

“Will your fiancé be collecting you today?”

I can almost hear the dollar signs tallying behind his eyes. “No, my mother’s coming to pick me up.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” Larson rubs at his jaw as his blue eyes lock down onto the cast I hold against my body. “Well, I also wanted to remind you of some of the services that are covered by your plan. The break was thankfully clean, as you know, and it should heal swiftly after our care, but if you have any concerns about the incision that was made to clean up the jagged edges of your wound, then be sure to give me a call.”

I glance down at my cast. “Concerns? Like… infection?”

“Oh, well obviously, yes, if you have changes in temperature or a recurring itch that won’t fade. That’s all indicators of an infection, but I was thinking more of the scar.”

Our eyes meet. “My scar?”

“Of course. A woman of your standing, I’m sure, takes her appearance very seriously, and there is an array of cosmetic procedures that I offer that can reduce the visibility of the scar or even remove it altogether.”

Does he not see how funny it is to comment on how much I care about my appearance when I’m sitting before him in jeans and a stained T-shirt while my hair is scraped messily back into a rough bun just to keep it out of my face?

“You can do that? Just… remove scars?”

“Why, of course!” He presses his palms together and flexes his fingers. “Only the best for our top-tier clients.”

“That’s kind,” I reply as I stand, looking down at my phone as a message pops up from my mother. “I can’t ever see that being an issue, though. Thank you for all your care. I have to go.”

“Well, you have my card and your fiancé knows how to reach me.” Larson barely conceals his disappointment behind his smile. “Until next time!”

“Which is hopefully never.”

Smiling politely, I pocket my phone, grab my bag, and edge out past him.

Never in a million years would I have considered that there was surgery to remove scars.

I have my fair share and there are times when I stare in the mirror and try to picture what my body looked like before, but forking out thousands for surgery to mask them?

Maybe if I were as rich as Kairo seems to be.

“Devon!” My mother throws her arms around me the second I reach the hospital entrance. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come up to greet you. I couldn’t find a parking space so we’re actually on borrowed time.”

She jerks her thumb back to where her car is awkwardly parked near the curb. “How are you feeling?”

She pries my bag out of my hands as I kiss her cheek. “I’m fine, Mom. I promise.”

“Goodness, I can’t believe you were so badly hurt a stone's throw away and I didn’t even know!”

“In fairness, my rescuer swept me off to the hospital almost immediately after I was hit. There was no time to tell anyone. Please don’t beat yourself up about it. And look!”

I lift my broken arm and wiggle my new, freshly dressed red and green cast. “This one is much more festive than the pink.”

Mom rolls her eyes as we reach the car, and she tosses my bag into the back seat.

Then, she turns and cups my face with both her hands. “I’m so glad you’re okay. When I got the call, I was so worried.”

Her face twists and she blinks rapidly. “Life is short, you know? Too short.”

She pats my cheek, and I want to say more to comfort her, but she’s already ushering me into the car. The moment passes.

Life is short.