Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I put my head into my hands. “Oh my God.”
“Excuse me?” a voice says. I glance up. “I’m here for my post-surgery consult.”
The girls are all on lunch and I am covering reception. “Oh, yes.” I fake a smile. I glance through the booking list. “Mia, is it?”
“You should know me by now. I’ve been in three times this week.” She snarls.
Okay, rude bitch. I type into the computer. “Sorry, I’m not normally on reception.” I frown. Why has she been in three times this week? “Is there something wrong with your wound?” I ask.
“There’s nothing wrong with my wound. The entire procedure was a disaster. I asked for this picture. I wanted them bigger, more natural looking.” She shows me a picture on her phone. It’s of an eighteen-year-old girl with perky, natural breasts. Not that I can tell, because she’s had so much work done, but I think this woman is in her late thirties. She’s never going to look like this.
Henry is a surgeon, not a miracle worker.
“And I can tell you now, my boobs don’t look like this. I want a redo or a full refund.”
“I see.” I force another smile.
Seriously…fuck off, cow. I am not in the mood for your shit. I’ve got way bigger problems than your tits.
“Let me go and see Dr. Morgan, and I’ll be right back.”
She sits down on the couch and folds her arms in a huff. I walk up the hall and softly knock on Henry’s door.
“Come in.”
I open the door. “Hi.” I close the door behind me. “Mia Schofield is here.”
He exhales with an eye roll. “Yes.”
“She’s carrying on about her surgery.” I wince. “Sorry.”
“I know. This is the second time I’ve done them. I did them two years ago. She wanted them bigger and complained then, too.”
“She showed me a picture of a—” “I’ve seen the picture. Nobody is that talented.” He exhales heavily and sits back in his chair. “Send her in.”
“Okay.” His eyes linger on my face. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks softly. “You’re not your happy self today.”
“Yeah.” I fake a smile.
“Still fighting with Nathan?”
I shrug. I feel so fragile that I may just burst into tears any moment.
“You know, you can talk to me at any time.” He places his hand on top of mine on the desk. “I’m here for you… as a friend. I’m an excellent listener.”
I smile, grateful for his kindness. “We’ll be okay, it’s nothing serious,” I lie. “Just teething problems. It will be fine.” I give him a smile and make my way back to the crazy woman in the waiting room.
“Just go in, he’s waiting for you.”
I watch her march up the corridor and close the door behind her.
I exhale heavily. This job sucks. I miss nursing. I miss looking after children—beautiful, sick little children who need me and are grateful for every smile. If I get offered this job at the private hospital, I’m going to take it.
I’m not cut out for cosmetic surgery. This isn’t my calling.
* * *
I stand in the kitchen and sip my tea. I called Nathan and he said he wouldn’t be long. He was short with me, and it’s clear he’s still furious. I don’t even know what he’s going to say when he gets here… or if I want to hear it.
I’m nervous as hell, and I still don’t have my period.
Where is it?
I hear the key in the door before he comes into view. My eyes instantly well with tears at the sight of him. He looks like shit, and it’s obvious that he didn’t get any sleep last night, either.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” His eyes hold mine.
“I’m sorry, Nathe. I just wanted to talk to someone, and I know it should have been you.” I watch him as my stomach swarms with butterflies. “You know, I was just scared to share my fears with you.”
Empathy wins, and he exhales heavily. “Don’t cry.” He sighs as he takes me into his arms and I press my face into his shoulder as he holds me.
“I don’t want this to come between us,” I murmur.
“Let me have a shower and we’ll talk, okay?” He brushes my hair back from my forehead and he looks down at me.
I nod, hopeful for the first time, all day. He begins to walk off and I cling to him. “Can you just hug me for a moment, please?” He holds me tightly, and we stand in each other’s arms for a long time. I’m feeling so fragile and clingy.
“I love you,” I whisper.”
“Do you, Lize?” he asks softly. “Or do you just think you do? Because from where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like it.”
I close my eyes in sadness. “Nathe, I only told the girls what had been said to me, not that I believed it. Zavier rattled me, yes, I can’t deny it. But put yourself in my shoes for a moment.”