Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Honey, you were shot. I’m pretty sure you aren’t supposed to be okay,” my mom insisted.
“I think I’m a little… in shock about the whole thing,” I admitted. “It all just happened so fast. And then the pain…”
God, there was nothing in the world like that. Not in my experience anyway. The searing, stabbing, burning pain.
“You lost quite a bit of blood. Which is not good considering they believe you were already anemic,” she said, her voice taking on that tiniest bit of a mom-tone. We’d talked about the anemia. Ad nauseam. “You were supposed to be taking those blood builder pills.”
“I know,” I agreed. “And believe me, I will now.”
“Well, they have you on an infusion now, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry too much. How is your pain?”
“It’s… there. But I don’t want more drugs yet. How am I… medically?”
“You’re going to be just fine. You were incredibly lucky. The shoulder wound went through you. The police have the bullet they’d taken out of the wall. And your stomach, that was where you were the luckiest. It managed to avoid all your major organs and your intestines, which the doctor said would have been very serious. It got lodged in some fat on your hip.”
“What I am hearing is the doctors think my love of pasta and potatoes saved my life,” I quipped, watching my mom’s face as she laughed, then broke off on a little sob. “Hey, I’m okay,” I assured her as she bent forward over me, resting her forehead against my good shoulder. Gently. Barely touching me.
“I know,” she said, still crying, her hot tears landing on my gown, then slipping through the thin material. “I just need to let this out. I was so scared for you, honey,” she said, sniffling hard.
My mom didn’t get sad or stressed often. But when she did cry, she cried hard. And I knew better than to try to do or say anything to ease it. I’d been raised to understand how important it was to let your emotions and your experiences move through you, so they didn’t get stuck in you.
So I just let her cry, then pull herself back together.
“Okay. Well, now that is over,” she said, sneaking some tissues from my nightstand, then wiping her cheeks. “If you don’t mind, I was thinking of running out to get us some breakfast. They serve you here, of course, but…” she said, waving a hand out.
“Go ahead. Get us something decent,” I invited.
I wasn’t really hungry. Not yet at least. But I knew she had likely been up all day and night worrying about me and not eating. I needed to let her go and get some food, feed her cat, maybe take a shower and change her clothes.
“Take your time,” I added, giving her a smile. “I’m in good hands.”
“I won’t be longer than, maybe, two hours,” she assured me. “Is there anything I can pick up for you?” she asked, reaching down to touch my hair again.
“Maybe just my e-reader,” I said. “It’s on my nightstand. I don’t know how long I’ll be in here, but I will go crazy with just the TV to focus on.”
“Of course, angel,” she said, giving my leg a squeeze. “I’ll be back in a jif.”
With that, she was out.
I was helped into the bathroom by one of the nurses where I got my teeth brushed and my hair in some semblance of order, before collapsing back into my bed, cursing the thin blanket, and wishing I had a way to ask my mom to bring me something warmer.
There was a little tap on the open door, and I thought that maybe the doctor was coming to check in on me.
But then a man was walking into the room.
With a giant wildflower bouquet in one hand, a bag hanging off his arm, and an edible bouquet in his other hand.
Somehow, though, it wasn’t any of those beautiful sights that captured and held my attention.
Oh, no.
That was the man who had brought them in.
He’d been gorgeous in his tee and basketball shorts the day before, but he was godlike this morning in a black suit with a dark gray shirt under. No tie. Two buttons undone, showing a small golden amulet hanging there. Maybe a saint?
I couldn’t claim to have ever been drawn to men in more formal attire before. But Nino? Nino looked like he was born to wear one.
“Hey,” I said, giving him a smile as he stood there, looking uncertain.
“Hey, Savannah,” he greeted me, head tipping to the side as his gaze moved over me. “How are you?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “You brought me flowers?” I asked, finally letting my gaze move in the direction of the bouquet.
It was perfect.
Zinnias, cosmos, bachelor buttons, daisies, sweet peas, and several big, happy sunflowers. And the big yellow vase it was in seemed to brighten the room immediately.