My Forbidden Doctor - Stephanie Brother Page 0,6

to Disney World in Orlando. I took Spanish in school and went to Mexico for a week with my class.

Lo and behold, all it took was a particularly stressful day for us both to send her wrapping her car around a building. Bitterness stained my tongue, and I managed a fairly deep breath through my nose.

'It'd be nice if you didn't come home sloshed, you know.' Those were the last words I'd ever said to my mom, my voice tinged with disappointment. It'd become so infuriating when she'd stumble in from work already tipsy, a fresh bottle of wine under her arm. A daily struggle.

But I knew it was my dad's cheating that pushed my mom over the edge. I was seventeen when he stepped out on the screwed-up notion that I was too old to be affected like a little kid would.

He'd never even apologized, my dad. Never told me he'd be a better parent now that I only had one. Never expressed any guilt for the blow out fight that led my mom to drive drunk.

"Melissa? Are you okay?"

Even right now, his concern isn't the person's I hear. Lifting my blurry gaze to Carl, I sniffled through my clogged sinuses as I waved my hand in dismissal. His dark eyes darkened at my messy face, but I was just exhausted as I lowered my head onto my arms on the table.

"Do you want some company?"

"Sure— it's not like my dad will come apologize. He's probably already left because he's a coward." Scrunching up my nose in disgust, I forced my tight muscles to sit up while Carl slid into the opposite side of the booth. "You here for dinner?"

"Yes. I'm far too lazy to cook after the encounter I had at my car."

I was kinda glad for the distraction, and the waitress returned with a pitcher of ice water. She gave me extra napkins, and brown eyes cast me one more, concerned look before she pulled her little notepad out of her apron.

"What can I get you this evening?"

I knew the menu by heart, and in this moment, I was pretty glad the waitress handling most of the patio hadn't had a minute to take my and my father's orders.

"Yeah. Um— can I get the salmon and poached egg on whole wheat, please. To-go if it's not a problem."

The waitress bopped her head in a nod, casting a quizzical glance at Carl. He seemed a little flustered as he straightened, and I twiddled my thumbs under the table as the tremors in my hands started to die down.

"I actually ordered to-go as well..." Sheepishly, Carl spoke up.

I gnawed on my inner cheek absently. He's got nice lips.

"Yeah, sure. Not a problem. Your name?" She scribbled down his reply before slipping her handful back in her apron, flashing us both a smile. "I'll be out with your food shortly."

Skipping away, the waitress left Carl and me in a light silence, and I tapped my fingers against my bare knees.

"What did you order?" His eyes met mine, and fire licked up my neck when they flashed with something undefinable. Propping his elbows on the table, Carl set his chin on laced fingers as he scanned my face.

"I wish I had gotten here a few minutes before. As terrible as it sounds, seeing your attack would've given me something to go on concerning your treatment, Mel."

Surprise raised my brows, and Carl frowned as the cogs worked between his thick lashes.

"I don't want to sound insensitive, but if I had, it wouldn't have been for nothing, at the very least."

"I'll make sure to call you next time. Assuming I'll be dumb enough to agree to go out with my dad and he pulls this again. At least I knew enough to drive myself here." Today had been a rollercoaster from 11 a.m. on, and I lowered my head once again to blow out a ragged wheeze. "I'm tired. I'm not even hungry at this point. I just want to go home and sleep."

Carl didn't have a reply to that, and I really didn't expect him to. My dad, my allergies, my asthma attack... it all sucked the life right out of me. The only reason I ordered was because I had to eat something— anything.

The idea made me kinda sick, though.

Chapter 4

Carl

Mel: I'm home. I didn't crash or anything.

Smiling at my phone, satisfaction bubbled in my veins, and I circled my thumbs over the screen. Melissa's text sagged my shoulders, the leather