Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Forty-five seems to be pretty f*cking old to be trying to find myself. And yet, that’s exactly where I’m at. Tired of my life as a top cardiovascular surgeon in LA, I packed it all in and took over my former mentor’s general practice in Emerson, Tennessee. Talk about a f*cking culture shock. I guess I’ve spent my time here looking for purpose. Looking for meaning.
And I found it when she walked into my life.
Elodie is half my age, but she makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Things I never thought I could feel. What was supposed to be casual and fun has turned into something that’s consuming me whole.
I want Elodie.
I want her with everything in me. But when her past comes calling, it intersects with mine in a way I never saw coming. It clashes with my own past in a way that threatens to destroy everything I’ve been trying to build with her.
Too bad because letting her go isn’t an option.
Elodie
Getting a scholarship to go to school in LA was my ticket out. I fled Emerson, the small town in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains I grew up in, and never looked back. I’ve built a life for myself in LA and love life on the West Coast.
When my grandmother’s heart attack pulls me back, I’m more than happy to flee Southern California to escape a borderline abusive relationship. I have to admit, for all the drawbacks of small-town living, being home again is kind of nice.
Coming off a horrible relationship, I was done with men.
But when I meet Ethan, he rocks me to my very core. He opens my eyes, my mind, and my heart in ways I never expected. And despite my vow to swear off relationships in light of my past, Ethan opens me up to the possibility of love again.
But when my past unexpectedly comes crashing down on my present and I learn that Ethan and I share the most shocking of connections, it turns my entire world upside down.
It threatens everything Ethan and I have been building together.
In light of this astonishing connection we share, how can I possibly be with Ethan?
How can he possibly be with me?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
ELODIE
“No, I understand,” I say. “I’ll be on the next flight out. Thank you.”
Disconnecting the call, I drop my phone on the bed and press my hand to my forehead, trying to stop the wild churning in my skull. It’s not helping that my belly is roiling like a pot of boiling water at the same time.
“I can’t believe this. This can’t be happening,” I mutter.
I force myself to stop the frantic pacing and take a deep breath. This isn’t the time to be freaking out. I can’t afford to lose my shit. No, right now is when I need to be thinking clearly. She needs me, now more than ever, and I have to keep my shit together.
“Okay, think, Elodie. Think,” I say. “What’s first?”
In a slower, more controlled way, I pace the living room of my small apartment, putting together a mental checklist of what I need to do. I prefer order to chaos and making lists always has a way of calming me down and getting my mind right. Once I get a rough idea of what I need to do to organize this impromptu trip, my heart stops racing quite as hard and I’m able to focus on the situation a little more clearly.
“Plane ticket. That’s first.”
Dropping down at my desk, I open my laptop and spend the next hour plus searching for the cheapest ticket I can get for a flight out today. I finally find a flight that leaves in a few hours, and it costs a lot more than I’d like to spend—more than I can afford to spend really—but I book it, anyway. There’s no way I’m not going to be there.
Okay, that’s done. I’ve got a little time to pack now before I have to book an Uber to get me to the airport. My eyes fall on the framed photo sitting on the corner of my desk, and I’m hit by a wave of emotion so thick, it pulls me under. My vision wavers and my eyes sting as they well with tears. I sniff them back and use the cuff of my hoodie to wipe them away. I can’t afford to fall apart right now. I can’t. Not when there’s still so much to do. But trying to hold back the tears and emotion rampaging through me is like trying to keep the sun from rising in the east.
I pick up the picture and somehow smile through the tears. The photo is of me and my grandmother, Maryanne—Mam to me because I had a hard time pronouncing her full name correctly when I was a kid. Our cheeks pressed together, we have our arms wrapped around each other, eyes glittering with the same happiness in our wide smiles. It was taken on her front porch the day I moved out of her home and headed west after getting a scholarship to attend UCLA.
That was almost five years ago, the summer before I turned eighteen, and I’ve been here in Southern California ever since. I love it out here. I love the sun, the beach, the laid-back lifestyle. Although I’ve built a life for myself out here, Emerson is always going to be my home. Mam’s house is always going to be my home. After my folks passed away when I was barely old enough to walk, she was the one who raised me. She’s more than simply my grandmother. She’s practically my mother. And she needs me.
Setting the photo back in place, I wipe my eyes and let out a long, steadying breath. She needs me. Which means I need to pull myself together and get out there. I clear my throat and take one last moment to gather my wits about me.
“Get it together, Elodie. Let’s go.”
Rushing into my bedroom, I find my large rolling suitcase in the back of my closet. I have no idea how long I’m going to be out there—I’m assuming it’s going to be a bit of an extended stay rather than one of my usual quick visits—so I start packing as if I’m going to be at Mam’s for a while. I need to be conscious of the stupid luggage fees the airlines charge, so I’m only going to check one bag. I can do laundry at Mam’s, plus I know I still have some things still out there. I swear to God, with all these new fees, traveling is a freaking mob racket anymore.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
A sharp squeal bursts from my mouth as I jump out of my skin. With my hand to my chest, I wheel around to find my boyfriend standing in my bedroom doorway. He’s leaning against the jamb, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a curious yet confused expression on his face.
“What the hell, Ben?” I screech. “What the hell are you sneaking up on me like that for?”