Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Her words resonate with clarity. I look down at my cup, the mostly untouched mocha now cold and unappealing.
“Angie,” Aunt Mel says, “this is a complicated issue. It’s important to understand that this isn’t just about romance or feelings. This is about ethics and professionalism too.”
I nod, biting my lip. My heart sinks as I realize that we have indeed crossed lines not meant to be crossed.
Of course, I always knew that. But every time that thought popped up, I relegated it to the back of my brain. Now that I’ve told someone else about it, the reality of the situation has come crashing down.
“Maybe you should talk to Jason, discuss these things openly,” Aunt Mel says.
“But what about Ralph?” I ask, blinking back tears. “He could ruin everything.”
“Ralph is attempting to blackmail you. That’s illegal. He’s the one who should be fearing consequences.” Aunt Mel leans back in her chair, folding her arms. “We’ll figure out a plan to deal with him.”
I manage a weak smile at her words. Aunt Mel always knows how to handle tricky situations with grace and tact.
“But before anything else,” she continues, “you need to have an honest conversation with Jason. Understand his perspective and make sure he understands yours. This isn’t just your problem. It’s his too.”
Tears prick my eyes as I nod. Despite everything, the weight of it all seems a little less daunting now that she knows.
“But promise me something, Angie,” she adds, her gaze sharp and serious.
“Anything,” I whisper, meeting her steady eyes.
“Promise me you won’t lose yourself in this mess. Hold on to your values, your dreams, and your future. Don’t let anyone—not Jason, not Ralph—dictate who you are or what you will become.”
I blink at her. “I promise. I won’t lose myself.”
I only hope I can keep that promise, because all I want to do is lose myself in Jason, in what I feel when I’m with him, in the passion and desire between us.
Aunt Mel smiles. “Good girl,” she murmurs.
We sit quietly together for a few moments, the hum of the coffee shop around us becoming muted background noise.
Finally, Aunt Mel breaks the silence. “And Angie,” she says calmly, “you must also remember that you’re not alone in this. You have a family that cares about you, a family that will help you navigate these waters.”
I nod. “Okay, Aunt Mel,” I say, wiping away the stray tear that has managed to escape from my eye. “But please don’t tell them about this. At least not right away.”
She nods. “I’ll keep this between you and me as long as your safety isn’t compromised. Lord knows your father and your brothers—not to mention your uncles and cousins—would speed down I-70 and kill Dr. Lansing with their bare hands if they found out about this.” She gives me another comforting smile. “But don’t forget. Sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones that need to be made. It may not seem like it now, but this will pass, and you’ll come out stronger on the other side.”
“Thank you, Aunt Mel,” I reply, finally managing to give her a genuine smile.
She raises her coffee cup toward me. “To strength, courage, and tough choices.”
I raise my own cup in response.
Strength.
Courage.
Tough choices.
I have to give Jason up.
And I just don’t want to.
Chapter Forty
Jason
Can my life get more fucked up?
I spend the rest of my Sunday drinking bourbon and feeling sorry for myself until I pass out on my couch.
I awaken to my phone buzzing.
“Yeah?” I say, not bothering to look to see who it is.
“Jason, hi. It’s Louisa.”
My heart lurches as I check the time. Eight a.m. Damn. It’s Monday morning. “Hey. What’s up?” My voice sounds groggy.
“I wanted to find out how your meeting with Dr. Steel went.”
I sigh. “It sucked.”
She pauses. “I…was afraid it might not go well. Dr. Steel is a tough cookie, but she knows her stuff.”
“So you agree with her, then?”
“I agree she knows her stuff. I know that she wouldn’t come to a conclusion without thinking it through rationally, weighing all the variables. What exactly did she say?”
“She didn’t say no to the surgery.” I rub at my forehead. “But she does recommend postponing it until I get some therapy. But I really don’t want to go back to therapy, Louisa. It cost me everything I had left.”
No response for a moment. Until—
“I may have a solution.”
My heart lurches again. “Don’t fuck with me, Louisa. Don’t give me more false hope. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m not fucking with you. There’s a state-of-the-art surgical center in Switzerland where Gita first performed the surgery with an excellent outcome. She thinks she can get you in there.”
I don’t respond for a second, my heart pounding. Part of me wants to get angry, to tell her to go to hell, that I don’t want any more false hopes. But the other part—the part that sees the opportunity, the glimmer of hope—can’t just push it away.