Page 76 of Doctor Mile High
Fiancée of Winston Warrick Flees.
“Oh my god. No. No, no, no.” I scroll the page, gritting my teeth together when there are photos of me walking through the crowd, crying. Even a photo of me leaning against the pillar to gather myself.
I slam my phone onto the seat and shake my head, ashamed of myself for running away without saying a word. Now, every person in the city knows what happened.
The city lights must have blurred together as we drove since we’re already pulling into the driveway of my parents’ house.
Hanson’s car is here.
“Thank you for getting me here safely.” I hand him the cash to pay for the ride and leave him a nice tip. “Have a good night.”
“I know your night sky has no stars right now, but you’re about to hold the brightest star in the world. How amazing is that?” he says with a bright, positive smile.
I give him a smile, closing the door gently. “Thank you for that.”
He waves with genuine joy, then reverses out of the driveway, the red taillights fading into the distance.
A long groan has the tension in my shoulders sag. I’d know that sound from anywhere. It’s the front door opening. I spin around to see my mom standing on the porch, my dad behind her holding Winston, and Hanson steps out too.
Mom holds out her arms for me and I run the best I can in these heels and tight dress. The heels are loud in the quiet night, the fast taps gaining speed with every step I take. When I climb up the concrete steps, I throw my arms around my mom.
She gives me a tight hug, patting my back. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go inside. Let’s get you into comfortable clothes. My grandbaby has been crying nonstop. He cries himself to sleep and then wakes up crying. He has no fever or anything.”
“It’s okay. I know what he needs.” I step forward, pausing in front of Hanson. “You’re here? I mean, that’s fine that you’re here.”
“I saw what happened. Your mom texted me to come over. She knew you’d be on your way. She told me you’d need your best friend, so I’m here.”
My bottom lip wobbles as I turn my chin to my shoulder. “Thank you, Mom.”
Hanson comes in and gives me a hug. It feels good to have him back in my life. I know so many people wanted us to be together,but even now, the only man in my heart is Winston. I love him and I know I need to call him. But I need some time to get my thoughts together. I want to know what I want to say when I talk to him about why I ran away so easily.
That isn’t fair to him.
My son begins to wail so loud, it has me flinching from how it echoes in my eardrum. “Goodness, baby. I have you. You’re okay.” I kick my shoes off, holding out my hands for Dad to give me Winston. Cradling him, I dance. Nothing fancy, just a slow and simple waltz around the room.
My son’s eyes find mine and he smiles, his cries stopping as if he never cried at all.
“How in the world did you figure out how to do that?” Hanson asks, recording me.
“When he gets real fussy, Winston does the waltz with him. I watched so I learned the steps.” I close my eyes when they begin to burn again with tears. Placing baby Winston down in the bassinet, I turn on the music of a slow waltz, the beat perfect to keep him asleep.
“Come on, let’s go change, sweetie. Hanson and your dad will watch him. You can talk to me about what’s going on.” My mom takes my hand, gently tugging me behind her into my parents’ bedroom and closing the door.
We don’t say anything at first. She unzips my dress and I hold my hair to the side so it doesn’t get caught in the zipper. I step out of the expensive gown, and Mom lays it flat on the bed, snagging a big T-shirt and sweatpants from her dresser. Slipping them on, I head to the bathroom to wash the makeup off my face.
“I saw the photos, Dove.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Mom.”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she leaves, and I hang my head, leaning against the vanity. The feeling of someone entering the bathroom has me lifting my head. It’s Hanson. He’s leaning against the wall, arms and ankles crossed.
Hanson is easy to talk to. Well, he used to be. I’m not really sure where our friendship stands, but him being here soothes me.
“Talk to me, Dove. I saw the photos. You can’t really believe he’d do that to you. Do you?”
I dab my face with a towel. “No. Yes. No.” I shake my head, tossing the towel on the counter. “No, I don’t.”
“Then, why aren’t you with him?”
