Page 8 of One Pucking Heart

I left.

Alex didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby I carried. Sure, he would’ve married me because our fathers would’ve demanded it, but I refused to live in a loveless marriage. I didn’t have to be psychic to know what a marriage to Alex would’ve been like because I had a firsthand example for sixteen years.

For my entire life, I watched my father screw around and cheat on my mother. I suppose they had agreed on a partnership, for my sake, but shared no real love between them. I knew the power of true love because I felt it from my mother. Her love made me feel invincible and shaped the woman I am today.

When I left, my father cut me off completely. I was his biggest disgrace, an embarrassment. My father has done much worse than having sex before marriage, but he considered me unredeemable. I haven’t received a penny from him since. Admittedly, some days were rough, extremely tough. I tried to hide how much I struggled from Ari, but of course, she always knew.

We were poor but happy, and I raised an amazing young woman. I’d do it all again to reach the same result because my daughter is the best thing I ever did.

There are much worse things than being poor, and I know this all too well.

I can’t say I’m not relieved that the struggle is finally ending, though. Ari is in college and happy. I’m finally a doctor with a good job. We’ve made it. In three days, I’ll start receiving regular paychecks, and I can leave the life of struggle behind.

Behind the wheel, I pull on my seat belt, start the car, and my phone dings from within my purse. Retrieving it, I read the text.

I have a question.

I can only assume it’s Beckett.

Yes?

You never told me your favorite color.

That’s not medical or a question.

Will I need kinesiology tape during my recovery?

You might.

Okay, so if I wanted to order kinesiology tape in your favorite color, what color should I order?

Have a good day, Mr. Feldmore.

Come on, Elena. Give me something. Birthday? Favorite animal? Do you live alone or with a significant other?

I was serious about only contacting me if you needed medical help. Please respect my boundaries. Rest up.

Have a good night, Elena.

With a roll of my eyes, I toss my phone into my purse and drive home.

I live in an apartment twenty minutes outside of Ann Arbor where the rent is cheaper. It’s not much but as soon as I pay off some debt, I’ll get a better place. For now, it’s just fine.

A white van pulls into the parking spot next to me, and a chubby, ginger-headed man steps out. “I’m looking for apartment 1B,” he shouts over the hood of my car.

My brows furrow, and I take a step back.

He chuckles and removes one of his earbuds. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. Do you know where an Elena Cortez lives, apartment 1B?”

I swallow. “I’m Elena.”

His eyes light up. “Oh great. I have a delivery for you.” He walks around to the back of the van and pulls out two packages wrapped in paper. They have the shape of bouquets, and I assume they’re flowers. Maybe a Crane welcome present? “Why don’t you go open your door, and I’ll take them inside.”

I squint, eyeing him up and down.

He laughs. “Okay, then. Or, I can leave them on the ground outside your door. They’re just a little cumbersome to carry and top-heavy. I don’t want you dropping one when you’re trying to unlock your door.”

The logo on the side of his van looks legit, as does his uniform. Not to mention, the guy is five feet five of squish. I could take him easily. Chalk it up to a baby daddy who hasn’t met his daughter in twenty-one years or a father who disowned me, but it might be fair to say I have trust issues. My skepticism runs high when a man is involved.

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