Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
The question caught Kent off guard. He wanted to say no because they were careful, but “careful” was a relative term. “We’re active” was all he could think to say.
Dr. Molina nodded and went toward Maeve’s room. She met the nurse in the hallway, they spoke, and then she disappeared into another room.
Isha came down the hall toward Kent. She stopped at the nurses’ station and gave him a once-over. “Need a ride back?”
“No, I’m going to stay and wait for Maeve to wake up. Someone should be here when she does, and I need to call her parents.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why I asked if you wanted to leave. Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Thank you. I mean it, Cortez, thank you. You and Damian stepped up when I couldn’t do my job.”
“No one expects us to work on our family members. It’s one thing if an accident happens at home, but when you roll up on one, it’s a whole other ball game. This could happen to any of us. We’re a team and we’re family.”
Kent choked up at her words. He nodded, unable to find his voice. Isha patted him on his shoulder and told him to call her or the house if he needed anything, and she’d make sure Damian showed up after his call. Once she was gone, Kent sat down in the waiting room and worked to keep his emotions at bay. He wasn’t a crier, although he thought he’d start crying once he could relax. Yet, the tears didn’t come.
Kent sat back and wondered. He felt worried and scared for Maeve—a normal reaction for someone he cared about . . . there it was. Kent cared about Maeve, but he wasn’t in love with her. That’s why he didn’t push on the dinner issue with her mom. Deep down, he knew there was a reason neither of them had professed their love for each other—neither of them was there. They were very much “in like” with each other, but that seemed to be as far as their relationship had gone.
He expected his heart to hurt, more than it did, at the realization that the woman he’d spent almost a year with wasn’t someone he was in love with. Kent was sad that Maeve was in that car, sadder even that he couldn’t help her. Despite the standstill in his feelings, he still wanted things to work out for them because he still had feelings for her.
After they’d brought Maeve back from her scan and she still hadn’t woken up, Kent made the trek downstairs to the cafeteria. He needed coffee and didn’t want to drink the stuff in the staff lounge, mostly because he needed some space away from the noise.
Kent’s stomach growled when he stepped off the elevator. The sweet smell of baked apples wafted in the air. He had no desire to eat, but the sudden onset of hunger pangs said otherwise. He got into line, picked the first available tray, and followed the person in front of him. Nothing looked appetizing, even when he came to the apple pie. Still, he placed one on his tray, paid for the slice and a large cup of coffee, and went to a table near the window.
He made eye contact with the woman one table away and grinned when he saw that it was Palmer. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said and then shook his head. “Probably something I should say when I see you at the bank.”
Palmer smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked lost in thought. “Thank you again for helping me the other day.”
“Of course, I’d say it’s my job, but it’s more than that. I sincerely enjoy helping people.”
“Well, you’re very good at your job, Mr. Wagner.”
“Kent,” he said. “Call me Kent.”
She gave Kent a shy nod, and he noticed that her smile never went away, but it had finally reached her eyes.
“You’re not a patient still, are you?”
“Not really. I had to have some testing done,” she said. “One more and then I’ll go home. Why are you here? You don’t really eat . . .” Palmer paused and glanced at his table. “Is the pie good?”
Kent laughed. “It looks like it, and yes, you’re right. We don’t normally eat here. My girlfriend is upstairs.” He left it at that. He didn’t want any sympathy and definitely didn’t want to answer more questions about the car accident. “Do you mind if I ask what’s wrong?”
“I don’t mind.”
Kent moved seats and sat across from her. Palmer straightened and faced him. She tugged the cardigan she wore closed and set her hands in her lap. She cleared her throat and focused on the table. “I have a tumor, frontal lobe.”
Realization dawned on Kent. She’d definitely had a stroke when he was at her workstation the other day. A million things went through his mind as he second-guessed his actions. He should’ve taken her to the hospital when he saw the signs, but he’d chosen to believe her when she said she was okay.