Page 10 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“The fact that you apparently saved my life certainly doesn’t make you responsible for me. You don’t have to be nice to me or stick around for hours in a hospital room.”

She sounded stuffy and ungrateful, she realized with a qualm. “As much as I appreciate it,” she added.

She knew some of those who worked with her at the company considered her remote and unapproachable and perhaps even arrogant. She wasn’t, at all. June had just learned through hard experience to rely mostly on herself.

“I don’t feel any obligation toward you,” Alison insisted. “It didn’t seem right to leave you alone here. I wanted to be sure you had someone in case you needed anything during the night. My mom spent a few weeks in the hospital before she died and I remember her saying how much she hated waking up alone in a hospital bed. I don’t want to be intrusive, though. If you think you’re okay, I’ll get out of your hair and let you rest.”

“I’m fine. Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome.” Alison suddenly looked young and uncertain again. “Would you mind if I came back later to check on you?”

She should tell her not to bother, but somehow the idea of someone being so concerned about her felt... comforting. She didn’t feel quite as alone.

“No. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great. I’ll be back this afternoon. Try to get some rest.”

She nodded. After Alison left, June closed her eyes and wondered how her carefully organized life had fallen so completely off the rails.

Chapter 6

Alison

Five days after she saved Juniper Connelly’s life, Ali again walked into the hospital and took the now-familiar elevator up to the cardiac unit. She had spent more time here the past five days than she had in her borrowed apartment, but she didn’t regret a moment.

At first, she had visited because she felt sorry for the other woman. The normally confident, brusque June Connelly had seemed so frightened to be alone, especially after doctors talked about putting in an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator to shock her heart if it stopped again.

For all her success and wealth, June seemed... lonely. Ali had seen friends stop by, accomplished professionals like June who dropped off flowers, small gifts, tasteful, luxurious slippers and throws.

All their visits seemed to Alison to be superficial. They talked around June’s heart health and rarely addressed it, focusing instead on things happening at Move Inc, about their plans for the summer, about how happy they were to see her doing so well.

Ali would slip away whenever visitors arrived and then would pop back into the room to make sure June didn’t need anything before she left for the day. June always seemed happy, almost relieved, whenever she showed up, though Ali wasn’t sure if she was projecting her own feelings onto the other woman.

The true breakthrough in their relationship had come after June’s second night in the hospital, after doctors had confirmed her diagnosis of CPVT and again had recommendedsurgery to implant the small device under her collarbone that would sense if her heart rate became irregular or, heaven forbid, stopped entirely again. It would provide a small shock to return it to its usual beat.

Ali had offered to stop at June’s apartment to pick up anything she might want or need after the surgery, scheduled for the next day.

“You don’t have to do that. You’ve done so much for me already.”

“I really don’t mind,” she assured her. “I know you terminated my internship but we never had the chance to fill out the paperwork so I’m still technically your intern. I’m happy to help. Make a list of what I can pick up for you and where to find it and then you can text it to me.”

June shook her head with resignation and began composing a text message on her phone to send to Alison with her list.

After her phone pinged, Alison read through the list to make sure she didn’t have any questions. Her gaze had stopped on the third item, after face moisturizer and before reading glasses.

“You want me to pick up a copy ofPurgatory River?” she asked, almost dumbstruck.

“Yes. It should be easy to find. It’s in my bedroom, on the bedside table.”

At Ali’s continued silence, June had frowned. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Not a problem. It’s just... I didn’t realize you were a fan of Carson Wells.”

June had given a rough laugh. “Who isn’t? He’s the best American novelist in a generation. Since his tragic death, I’ve been rereading my favorites. They’re my comfort reads.”

Her thoughts in a tangle, Alison had stared at the woman. What did that mean? Did Juniper know about her own connection to Carson? If she didn’t, why would she love his writing so much and call his work her comfort reads?

She had cleared her throat, trying to find the right words. “You know he’s our... my father, right?” she quickly corrected.

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