Return To You - Leia Stone Page 0,19

blue eyes are doe-eyed as she listens to Owen. He instructs her on where my mom wants to sit, and what treatment she'll be receiving. The entire time he speaks, Melody, the Beautiful Young Nurse, fidgets with her necklace, holding on to the gold cross pendant and dragging it along the matching gold chain.

"Got it?" he asks when he's finished.

"Yes, Dr. Miller," Melody, I want to fuck my boss nurse, says, her voice breathy.

She'd probably take off her pants and dance in a circle if he told her to right now.

The urge to cross my arms protectively in front of me is strong, but I resist, keeping them casual at my sides. See, everyone? I'm feeling nothing in response to this girl fawning over my ex. I'm cool. Super cool.

Melody leads us to the recliner beside Linda while my Mom and I follow. When we reach Linda, Mom grabs her free hand and gives it a squeeze. A look passes between the two women, a look of knowing, of disbelief, of Can you believe we drew the short straw again?

I suddenly feel like I don’t belong here. It’s my mom’s third time doing this and I’m only just now coming to help. I’m an asshole and I feel like shit for sending money when I should have been there to hold my mom’s hand.

Melody gets my mother set up, and the irritation I felt toward her for flirting with Owen ebbs as I watch the kindness with which she treats my mom.

"This is my daughter, Autumn," my mom says, introducing me to Linda. She extends an arm while she speaks, and Melody slips on a blood pressure cuff. "She came here from New York City to be with me."

My chest swells at the hint of pride in her voice. Maybe I could make up for not being there before; my mom certainly doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge over it. "Nice to meet you," I say to Linda.

Linda grins. One front tooth is crooked, overlapping the one beside it, and it's endearing. Imperfections are my favorite thing about people. Owen has a scar on his ribcage from hopping over a fence when he was younger; my favorite thing was to trace my fingertips over the rippled, white flesh.

I shake my head as that thought pops into it.

"Nice to meet you too. You have a pretty great mom, you know that? She's a hoot. She made sure I knew what to expect after my first treatment. Thank God for her. I tell you what, I'd have been scared shitless last time had it not been for Faith." She smiles again and takes a big breath.

I like this lady and I really like how much she likes my mom. "I'm glad you had her during a difficult time."

"We had each other," my mom clarifies.

"How's it going over here?" Owen's voice comes from behind me. "Are you getting settled in alright, Faith?"

"Sure am," she responds, tipping her head at Linda and smiling mischievously. "This broad's trying to get me in trouble already."

"Guilty," Linda says, holding up one palm.

Owen laughs, and I feel it, deep down in my core, sliding over my skin. I hate how much I still find his laugh attractive. It’s a bit wild and carefree, not the restrained laugh I use with people.

I look over at my mom in hopes of pushing these thoughts from my mind, and I'm just in time to see Melody slip the IV needle into her arm.

Shit. I hate needles. My eyes lose focus, my stomach turns over and all of a sudden, I’m falling.

Strong arms wind around my waist, then I'm pulled into something solid.

"Still afraid of needles, I take it." Owen's murmur vibrates against the side of my head as I realize he’s caught me from falling and now I’m flush against his body.

I nod. I can't speak. It might be the needle. Or it might be the fact that I'm being held by the person I've spent years trying to forget. A person who still has this ridiculous, unexplainable ability to make my body react.

It's probably the needle. It’d better fucking be the needle. I spent way too much in therapy for Owen to still make me feel this way.

I take a shaky step away from him. One of his arms is still wound around my waist to steady me. Three curious gazes are on me as well.

Well, two, anyway. My mom knows about my aversion.

"Needles," I say weakly, and my