Authors: Emma Heatherington
Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor, #Contemporary Women, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Sagas, #New Adult & College, #Inspirational, #Women's Fiction, #Literature & Fiction
“H
e
turn
s
m
y
live
r
sou
r
,
”
sai
d
Ruth
.
“I’
d
lov
e
t
o
kick th
e
shi
t
ou
t
o
f
hi
m
righ
t
no
w
.
A
goo
d
di
g
i
n
th
e
kidney
s
is
wha
t
tha
t
boy
o
needs!
”
“Don
’
t
eve
n
thin
k
abou
t
it,
”
sai
d
Poll
y
.
“On
e
o
f
us wit
h
a
n
assaul
t
charg
e
i
s
enough
,
than
k
yo
u
ver
y
much.
W
ai
t
unti
l
a
tim
e
w
e
ca
n
ge
t
hi
m
whe
n
n
o
on
e
els
e
is
looking
.
The
y
probabl
y
hav
e
CCT
V
here.
”
The
y
marche
d
toward
s
T
revo
r
an
d
Poll
y
painte
d
o
n
a
smile
.
“Grea
t
news
,
isn
’
t
it
,
T
revor
?
I
can
’
t
believ
e
sh
e
had suc
h a
goo
d
night
!
I
t
take
s
mor
e
tha
n a
bas
h
o
r
tw
o
t
o
the hea
d
t
o
bea
t
ou
r
we
e
Gina
,
doesn
’
t
it?
”
T
revo
r
stopped
.
H
e
droppe
d
hi
s
cigarette
,
stoo
d
o
n
it, exhale
d
th
e
las
t
mis
t
o
f
smok
e
an
d
looke
d
Poll
y
directly
i
n
th
e
eye
.
“Enoug
h
o
f
th
e
smart-as
s
comments,
”
h
e
said
.
“That
’
s
m
y
wif
e
an
d
so
n
i
n
there
.
Don
’
t
yo
u
dar
e
eve
n
thin
k
you ca
n
spea
k
t
o
m
e
lik
e
that!
”
“
Y
o
u
don
’
t
scar
e
me
,
T
revo
r
Humphries,
”
sh
e
hissed.
“
I
hop
e
yo
u
ar
e
prou
d
o
f
yourself
.
I
hop
e
yo
u
ar
e
crawling
insid
e
wit
h
guil
t
fo
r
al
l
th
e
year
s
o
f
agon
y
yo
u
pu
t
m
y
best frien
d
through
.
I
hop
e
yo
u
ro
t
i
n
hell.
”
T
revo
r
opene
d
hi
s
mout
h
t
o
defen
d
himsel
f
bu
t
h
e
was flummoxe
d
a
s
th
e
tw
o
ladie
s
marche
d
pas
t
hi
m
an
d
in throug
h
th
e
hospita
l
doors
.
T
es
s
sa
t
i
n
th
e
ca
r
outsid
e
th
e
schoo
l
buildin
g
and twiddle
d
he
r
phon
e
i
n
he
r
hands
.
Sh
e
wante
d
t
o
cal
l
Rob an
d
tel
l
hi
m
ho
w
il
l
sh
e
felt
.
Sh
e
neede
d
comfor
t
an
d
a
hu
g
an
d
a
cos
y
blanke
t
i
n
fron
t
o
f
a
n
ope
n
fire
.
Sh
e
was
blessed
to live so close to work but the thought of
driving
fel
t
lik
e
climbin
g a
mountai
n
an
d
sh
e
jus
t
couldn
’
t
muster u
p
th
e
energ
y
.
Sh
e
though
t
o
f
Gin
a
lyin
g
i
n
hospital,
criticall
y
ill
,
an
d
trie
d
t
o
pul
l
hersel
f
togethe
r
bu
t
th
e
deep
sicknes
s
sh
e
fel
t
insid
e
jus
t
woul
d
no
t
g
o
awa
y
.
Sh
e
woul
d
hav
e
t
o
ris
e
abov
e
it
.
Sh
e
woul
d
driv
e
home an
d
sh
e
woul
d
hav
e
a
lie-down
,
perhap
s
a
bi
t
o
f
a
snooze an
d
sh
e
woul
d
b
e
righ
t
a
s
rai
n
i
n
n
o
time
.
“Ar
e
yo
u
sur
e
you’r
e
no
t
pregnant?
”
he
r
colleagu
e
had aske
d
he
r
befor
e
sh
e
left
.
“Mornin
g
sicknes
s
ca
n
strik
e
at an
y
tim
e
o
f
da
y
,
yo
u
know?
”
I
t
wa
s
a
runnin
g
jok
e
wit
h
a
ja
g
tha
t
T
es
s
ha
d
faced
sinc
e
th
e
momen
t
sh
e
cam
e
bac
k
fro
m
honeymoon
.