Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“She loves you,” Brad says just as the doorbell rings.
“That hasn’t been good luck today.” I lay my head back on the couch, fighting off the crying-induced headache.
“It’s pizza,” Brad says as he comes in the room. “From Drake. There’s a note on the box that says he hopes you’re feeling better.”
“That was sweet.” My stomach growls, and I realize I’m hungry. “I guess it’s good timing.”
“Do you enjoy pineapple on your pizza?” Brad asks after opening the box.
“Oh yeah.”
“Maybe we have to rethink this whole living together situation.”
“You mean, you don’t love pineapple on pizza?”
“It’s too sweet,” he says, but then smiles. “But it’s just on half. Drake’s not stupid.”
I grin and watch him walk into the open kitchen to get us plates, and wouldn’t you know it, the tears start again.
I can’t fucking turn them off.
My eyes are ridiculous. They’re puffy and purple, and I look like I went a round with a heavyweight champ. I keep rubbing them because I can’t turn the tears off.
It’s a vicious circle.
“I don’t even know what I’m crying about anymore.”
“It’s your body cleansing itself,” Brad assures me and passes me a plate. The aroma wakes Sadie out of a dead sleep, and she’s immediately ordered onto the floor.
“Are you the doctor now?” I ask.
“No, just guessing.” He takes a bite and watches me. “I don’t like seeing you like this.”
“I know, it’s pretty bad.”
“No, I just don’t like to see you cry.”
We’re about halfway into our pizza when the doorbell rings again.
“This time it’s flowers,” Brad says, carrying them into the living room and setting them on the table next to me. I pull the card out and open it.
“Hannah,
By the time you read this, we hope you’re feeling much better!
Love,
Grace and Jacob”
“That was nice.” I wipe the tear from under my eye, and then the doorbell rings again. “I can’t take much more of this.”
He laughs and goes to answer it. He’s gone longer this time, but then returns with a bag from my favorite ice cream shop and a card.
“Huckleberry?” I ask.
“Of course.”
I read this card.
Hannah,
Just a reminder that I love you!
Jenna
“Is everyone trying to make me cry today?”
“I don’t think that’s hard to do, sweetheart.” He sets the ice cream in the freezer and returns to his pizza. “I think your friends are just worried about you.”
“It’s amazing. I’ve always known that I belong here. I don’t know how to describe it, other than I knew I was home when I got here. But over the past few months, I’ve finally begun to feel like I’m a part of the community. I have an amazing network of friends, and your family makes me feel welcome.”
“They all care about you.”
I nod and take another bite of pizza, then set it aside and crawl into his lap. “I think that at first they cared about me because they love you. But now they love me too, and it’s a really good feeling.”
His arms tighten around me. The fear and anger from earlier are gone now, and I’m left with so much gratitude.
Love.
I straddle him and settle against him, feeling him harden.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you back,” he whispers in return, making me grin. I wiggle out of my sweatpants, unfasten his jeans and set him free, then lower myself onto him, making us both sigh in pure delight.
“You make me feel things, Brad. Big things.”
“It is impressive, isn’t it?”
I blink at him, then let out a big laugh. I wrap my arms around his neck and ride him, enjoying him. Soaking him in.
“Yes, perv, it’s impressive.”
Chapter Twenty
~Hannah~
Two Months Later
“HOW WAS YOUR DAY, dear?” Brad asks as I walk in the house from work. He beat me home today, and if my nose isn’t deceiving me, he’s made spaghetti for dinner.
Good God, I love this man.
“It was pretty good. I had two hysterectomies today, and I thought I was going to have to stay a bit late for a delivery, but it came about an hour ago.”
“That baby knew that you had a sexy guy to go home to.”
“Yes. That must be it. And then I saw my therapist for an hour, and I’m glad I’m going. He’s helping a lot.” I giggle and turn my face up for a kiss. He takes it from an innocent peck to a hot, searing make out sesh in about one-point-six seconds. “Mm, I missed you, too.”
He winks at me and returns to his work station, chopping up vegetables for a salad.
“I grabbed the mail on my way in,” I announce and sort through it, setting his mail to the side. There’s an envelope from the school of medicine that I graduated from, and I immediately open it. “Wow.”
“What is it?”
“A thank you letter,” I reply and read it out loud.
Dr. Malone,
It is with great respect and appreciation that I write this letter to thank you for your donation to the Yale School of Medicine. For generations, taking anatomy classes has been a rite of passage for medical students, and this integral part of becoming a physician would be lost without the opportunity that donors such as yourself have given us.