Page 65 of Fractured

“Oh. My. God. Are you serious? You should have seen that boy fly down the steps and run out the front door to look for you once I told him you’d decided to leave for the night. Jake and I just looked at each other and said, ‘he’s got it bad!’ Kat, he really is a good guy. I hope you two can finally get things on the right track.”

Taking a large white coffee cup in hand and sipping from the Columbian nectar, I exhale my joy. “I feel pretty good about it after last night. But I still want to meet with Dr. Miller to iron out everything with the pills and the texts from Mark. I need to figure out how to handle the Rohypnol test if it comes back positive. It’s a lot to ask someone new to take on. I have enough past romantic life drama I don’t need to give him any other demons to deal with.”

“Well, speaking of drama. What was all that about with Dr. Lee? I’d never met him before. Holy crap, is he hot, by the way!” I just nod because there’s no arguing that fact. The man looks like a model with that dark hair and blue eyes.

“Jake told me who he was. He said he’s kind of a smug surgeon, and apparently, Dr. Lee and Nick have had run-ins before. Jake said Nick tried to warn him not to let Dr. Lee anywhere near you.”

I almost choke on my coffee. “What?”

“Yeah. Nick told Jake Dr. Lee was a terrible player and didn’t want you getting hurt by the likes of him.”

“Oh.” I cover my lips with my index finger, relishing in Nick’s macho, overprotective ways.It’s kinda hot.“I don’t know much detail. And I don’t ever want Nick to think I’m sharing his dirty laundry…”

“But…” Melanie prompts, hopefully.

“That blonde. She’s Nick’s ex-wife.”

“Holy shit! No?”

“Yeah.” I take another sip of my coffee. “He didn’t want to talk about it, and I certainly understand that scenario. I don’t completely understand their situation. He seems to not have any love lost for her, but the last time I saw her… well, she and Nick were hugging in front of Julio’s restaurant.”

“Wow. It’s hard to imagine that after what I saw last night.”

“I know. I don’t completely get it either. I couldn’t place her when I saw her with Dr. Lee. But once Nick addressed her, and I looked back and forth between the two of them, I remembered seeing them together. I hadn’t known him long at the time.”

“I wonder if Dr. Lee is the reason they broke up?” Mel adds, taking a slurp from her cup. We are starting to sound like two old hens. My curiosity is killing me, but he has been so respectful of my needs, I’m certainly not going to push him to share anything until he’s ready.But he needs to do it before the wedding.I giggle.

“What’s that laugh for?”

“Nothing. So, when are you opening those bags?”

* * *

An hour later, we’ve enjoyed good coffee, scones, and gossip worthy of aReal Housewivesepisode. I ask Melanie if she’s ready for me to drive her home and grab my bag in response to her nod. We make idle chatter on the way to her home, but with each silence in the conversation my mind drifts back to Nick.

“Thanks for bringing my car. And the scones. You’re the best,” I shout out the open window as Melanie ascends her front steps.

“Yeah, I know,” she bats her eyes playfully.

Heading for home, I listen to various love songs on the radio and bask in the glow of the evening before. A wild grin takes over my face at the recollection of his words.“I’m going to marry you, and you’re going to have all my babies.”How long I’d waited for someone to say something like that.

Suddenly, I feel my phone start to buzz in my pocket. A grin inhabits my face before I can even see my cell. I’ve missed Nick today. After last night, I just wanted to be reconnected somehow. Yet, I didn’t want to impose on whatever he and his father had going on. As I bring the screen closer, I instantly realize this text is not from Nick.

11:42 a.m.

Unknown number

Unknown number: Image

There’s no text, just a picture. A picture of me. A picture of me wearing that thong and those black boots, covering my naked breasts with my hands, dollar bills raining down upon me.

Nick

I walk up to Dad’s front door and take in a deep, fortifying breath. This day is hard every year. We try to make it positive, but it’s hard all the same. Dad is usually here with the door wide, waiting on me with each visit. But I know he’s feeling as downtrodden as I am this morning. Even if he’ll try to put a brave face to it.

Because of the solemn nature of the day and his recent pelvic fracture, I try the doorknob instead of knocking. It’s open, as I’m sure he’s expecting me. I don’t see him in the den or the kitchen as I peek in. Turning, I head down the hall toward his bedroom and find his slumped form seated at the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands.

“Dad?”

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