Page 135 of Chasing Sparks

What did I expect? That he was calling to beg me back? No, all he did was beg me not to go out with another man.

Not that I had planned on dining with Kevin Duncan—though now, I might do it out of pure spite.

My phone rings again. Time for round two.

“What do you want?” I snap, my irritation carrying over from the last call.

“Is this Ms. Oriana Thorne?” an unfamiliar female voice asks.

Shit. I wince at my unprofessional greeting. “Yes, sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“No problem. This is Dr. Mazer’s office calling regarding your test results. Can you please come into the office at your earliest convenience?”

Double shit. My day has officially gone from bad to worse. I shudder, my mind already spiraling. What could it be? Something serious? Something incurable? God help me—it’s another glaring reminder that men, specifically Asher Hammond, are hazardous to my health.

“That bad, huh?” I ask, managing a strangled laugh.

“Ma’am, we can’t disclose any information over the phone.”

“Got it. I’ll be right down.”

With a sigh, I lower the phone and turn my gaze to the ceiling. How much worse can today get? Probably best not to ask that question.

I head for the parking lot and slide into the driver’s seat of my truck, my mind a tangled mess of worst-case scenarios.

I swear, this is the last time I let a man anywhere near me.

A soft knock sounds at my passenger window, and I jump at the unexpected noise. Glancing over, I see Lucille motioning for me to lower the window.

Universe, are you fucking kidding me right now?

I unlock the door, and she climbs in, her movements tentative, like she knows she’s not welcome. She offers me a soft smile, which only increases my anxiety.

“Hi, Ori,” she says, her voice hesitant.

“You seriously need to learn the meaning of boundaries,” I grumble, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ache.

“You can hate me later, but I need to say this.”

Huffing out a breath, I lean my head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t hate you. Either of you. There. Feel better now? Can I go?”

Lucille reaches over and touches my arm. Her hand is cool, almost trembling. “There’s nothing between Ash and me. Not for years.”

I roll my eyes. “Except for a baby, which, last time I checked, isn’t nothing.”

“It’s complicated,” she whispers, looking away.

“Right. He stuck his dick into you, and you got pregnant. Seems pretty damn simple, actually.”

“That’s not how it is.” Her voice tightens, and her hand retreats as she clasps her fingers in her lap. “Don’t hold Ash accountable for my mistakes.”

“You’re both guilty on this charge,” I reply, my voice sharp, “but don’t worry. He’s got plenty more issues that belong solely to him. If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Give him a chance,” she blurts out, her voice trembling. “Let him love you.”

I release a bitter laugh, the sound scraping my throat. “Let him love me? That’s the trouble. Heneverloved me. I should know. I told him several times, and his response was always the same—he couldn’t say it back. You’re the only woman he’s ever loved, even though you don’t fucking deserve him.”

Her face crumples, and for a moment, she looks like she’s about to cry. “I never did,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “And trust me, he doesn’t love me. He loves you.”

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