Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“The more it hurts, the more you know it was real.”
“Why doesn’t he think that?”
“I’m sure he does, sweetheart.”
“I felt like he totally misinterpreted my intentions, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I think you misinterpreted each other.”
I looked at my dad again.
“If he’d said, ‘The only children I ever want to have will be adopted,’ then you wouldn’t have even entertained this idea. Maybe if he’d made that clear, you wouldn’t have kicked the hornet’s nest.”
“I don’t know…maybe.”
The waitress came over and brought our food. He had the quinoa bowl with black bean puree and roasted vegetables and coconut rice, and I had a stack of waffles and everything else that would make my dress fit too snug.
I would normally tease my dad for that at brunch, but I kept my mouth shut this time.
Because it meant the world to me that he was there at all.
We sat on my couch in the living room and watched TV.
“Dad, you really don’t have to stay with me. I know you have a lot going on at the office.”
He sat beside me, one arm over the back of the couch. “Atlas can handle it.”
“No matter how good he is, he can’t do what you do.”
He crossed one ankle on the opposite knee. “You’d be surprised.”
An anxious knock sounded on the door.
“That’d be your mother.” Dad was off the couch and to the door in a couple seconds.
When the door was open, she ignored him and came straight for me. “I’m sorry, honey. I got here as fast as I could.” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close, cocooning me in her love.
“Mom, I’m fine…”
She rubbed my back, creating a bubble of warmth around us, a protective shield that couldn’t be penetrated by anything.
Dad silently let himself out.
She continued to hold me, continued to love me, continued to be everything that I needed.
The tears came, left my eyes, and I got the shakes. “Mama…”
It was early afternoon, but there were several bottles of wine uncorked, our lipstick stained the rims of our glasses, and we sat together on the couch with the TV on in the background, talking.
Mom sat with her legs crossed, her back straight and unsupported, maintaining the kind of posture that suggested she was still on the clock, when she was definitely off the clock, judging by the amount of wine she’d had.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the Trinity Building is on fire because you’ve been here for an hour.”
She smiled. “Matt’s there. It’ll be fine.”
“Matt is your understudy.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s perfectly capable. He’s just not as popular with the clients because he doesn’t wear a skirt.”
“With an ass that looks like a peach.”
“Daisy, stop.” She waved me off, but I knew she actually liked it when I said stuff like that.
My tears had been shed, my heart had been sliced like a block of cheese on a cutting board, and I felt a little better, just a bit dehydrated now. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Always.” She gave me that mom look, like I’d just made an ugly-ass finger painting, but she thought it was a work of art.
“I know it’s not really Dad’s thing.”
“It is. It’s just harder for him when it’s you. The men are usually the ones who do the stupid stuff, so with Derek, it was about reprimanding him and teaching him to get his shit together. Dex, too. But with you…it’s hard to watch you be on the receiving end of a man’s stupidity.”
“I don’t know if it’s stupidity…”
“I think it is. He’s letting his insecurities get the best of him.”
“It’s complicated.”
She shook her head. “Maybe I’m just biased, but I’m not a big fan of him right now.”
“Mom.”
“He broke my daughter’s heart. I’m entitled to my rage.”
“Well…maybe if I’d just kept my distance, none of this would have happened.”
She shook her head. “You were trying to help him, and you should never have to apologize for that. Ever.”
It wasn’t the same without Atlas there.
Didn’t realize how good of a boss he was until he was gone.
I’d wanted the director’s position so bad that I didn’t realize the full extent of the responsibility the role entailed. There was less time for patient care because I had to make room for paperwork and administrative bullshit. I got to hand-select the clients who came into the clinic and assign them to the best physician for the job, even taking first-pick for myself, but I didn’t have the same time that I used to, so I could only handle one at a time.
I sat at my desk and looked through the glass windows, seeing everyone else working in their offices, the assistants answering phones or checking patients in to the rooms. The desk that once belonged to Atlas now belonged to me.
And it came with very big shoes to fill.