Page 90 of Sloane

I needed to find a way to forget about him and move on, like he said to do.

That was going to be easier said than done.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Ashley

“The big appointment’s today, huh?” Dan asked when I appeared in the PT room where he was stretching.

“Yep. I’m going to find out how many laser treatments I’ll have to go through to make this,” I pointed to my made-up face, “a permanent look for me.”

“You’re not going to have to be off work, are you?” he grumbled.

“I don’t think so. I mean, I’m expecting bruising and swelling, so my plan is to schedule my treatments on Fridays to give me the weekend to rest and start to recover.” With a grin, I added, “But I probably will be sore, so you’re going to have to be nice to me.”

“Hmph, I am nice.”

That made me laugh out loud.

“Have you always been this nice, or have you gotten nicer in your old age?”

“I know you’re not going to believe this, but l have become nicer and a lot more mellow since my accident. I mean, it took me a while—I was pretty pissed off at the world for the first few months, but I eventually got it figured out.”

“What was your a-ha moment?”

“When June told me to straighten up and fly right, or she was gone. I realized I needed to man up and be the husband she deserved.”

I nodded thoughtfully.

“How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-nine years in July.”

No comparison to the blip in time I’d had with Sloane. I couldn’t hope for him to have an epiphany like Dan had. If anything, Sloane had wanted me gone. He wasn’t going to suddenly decide he needed to get his shit together to keep me.

“Congratulations. You two are an inspiration.”

“You’ll find the right guy someday, kid.”

I appreciated that’s all he said. Once I told him Sloane didn’t want me to come to Germany, he never mentioned him again. And neither did I.

Probably because I still didn’t trust myself not to cry if I talked about him out loud.

~~~~

Sitting in the comfy chair as I filled out the paperwork at the dermatologist’s office, it felt more like I was at the spa than the doctor’s. Between the Zen music, sconce lighting, fresh flowers, and water feature in the corner of the room, I almost forgot I was there for a laser treatment consultation and not a massage.

I’d answered all the usual questions about my name, address, insurance, emergency contact and was going through the checklist of questions about my medical history.

Date of last period.

I paused, trying to remember, but couldn’t so I pulled out my Fitbit to look at my menstrual health tracker.

Scrolling through the calendar, I didn’t come across a pink line of dates until the beginning of November.

That can’t be right.

Although, I had been under a lot of stress and lost a lot of weight, so I guess it was possible.

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