Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 723(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 482(@300wpm)
“It’s password protected,” he assured me. He patted the narrow bed. I slid onto it beside him, one foot dangling on the floor as I rested my head next to his. He hit play on the video. “I’ve watched this a hundred times.”
The girl on the screen seemed like a stranger. She pushed her long, dark hair back from her forehead and gazed confidently into the camera, totally unashamed to be on lewd display.
“You’re right. I really, really like this one. Can I use it all the time?” Sophie-on-the-screen asked, rubbing the two-pronged vibrator between her legs.
He smiled at that.
We watched, me through my fingers, embarrassed and turned on at the same time, as Sophie in the video came closer and closer to orgasm, backing off every time. Strangely, the longer I watched, the more I began to appreciate what he saw. I really was beautiful on the screen, sweating and moaning, not caring that he was watching me. Carefree and enjoying myself; what wasn’t to like?
I looked up at Neil’s face, and saw a sheen of tears in his eyes.
“Sophie... I have never been able to be myself with anyone the way I’m able to with you.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder. “Remember the night after the abortion?”
“I do.” His tone was a little sad. Maybe he was just tired, and I was reading more into it than I should have.
“We listened to that song, about the people in the boat, and you translated it for me?” I heard the tears in my voice. I hoped he didn’t.
“Yes?” He looked away from the iPad to meet my eyes.
I shrugged. “It’s been a hell of a storm, hasn’t it?”
I knew that he understood, because he didn’t say anything more.
It had been a hell of storm. But we’d come through it, just like he’d promised me we would.
I don’t know why I’d ever doubted him.
At around four, Neil was finally asleep, so I decided I would duck out for home. I checked with Erin, one of the night nurses, before I left, and let her know where I would be.
I’d meant to sleep until seven, and then head back. The hospital wasn’t far from home, so it made it easy for me to slip in and out. I couldn’t imagine how people handled a long-term hospital stay for a family member if they had to drive from out of town. I was counting my blessings as I dozed off, and for the first time in a long while, I snuggled Neil’s pillow and thought happy thoughts, rather than sobbing myself to sleep.
When I woke up, I knew something was wrong. I knew it the instant my eyes flew open and I realized I had overslept. My phone was on the nightstand beside its dock, the screen dark. I had set the alarm but forgotten to charge it.
I looked to the alarm clock on Neil’s side of the bed. It was nine-forty. They would have already woken Neil up for blood tests and breakfast. He would be wondering where I was.
I plugged the phone in to charge while I quickly showered and dressed, and when I picked it up again, I checked my recent calls. Seven of them, all missed, all from the hospital.
Neil wouldn’t have called me seven times. The only reason anyone would have called this much was if there was an emergency. My heart seized, and my lungs ached with every breath I took.
“No, no, no,” I repeated to myself under my breath. I tried to dial, but my fingers were shaking so badly that I had to try twice. By the time I got on the line with the hospital, I ended up on hold. I hurried downstairs and flagged down Matthew-the-pseudo-butler. “I need a ride. Like, immediately.”
“I’ll call Stephen, madam.”
“Don’t call me—” I made a noise of frustration as he walked away, but the nurse picked up before I could finish.
“This is Sophie Scaife, calling about Neil Elwood,” I said breathlessly as I pulled my jacket from the closet in the foyer. “Someone called me?”
“We’ve been trying to reach you all morning,” the nurse said, sounding put out.
“I didn’t mean to miss your calls,” I said though gritted teeth. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Mr. Elwood has had a complication. Dr. Grant would like to speak with you as soon as possible.” How could she sound so freaking testy and impatient when I was hearing the worst news of my life?
Okay, not the worst news. The worst had been, “I have cancer.”
Would it be worse news when I got there?
Stephen raced me to the hospital, blowing through stops when he could chance it. I took the stairs up to the fourth floor, and I was panting by the time I reached the waiting room, where I found Emma clutching a paper cup with a tea bag label hanging over the side, and Michael pacing.