Page 6 of Let Me Love You (Excess All Areas 5)

“Nan,” he yelled. Face down on the cold tile, she didn’t move. Bacon sizzled to a crisp in the pan as the alarm continued to cry out.

He fell to the floor and tried to turn her over so he could feel her pulse. And shit, how did you do mouth-to-mouth again? “No, Nan. This is not the deal.” He managed to get her onto her back. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slack. “Come on, Nan,” he begged, feeling for a pulse by her neck. It was there…just. “Don’t do this to me.”

Glancing around the kitchen, he spotted her mobile and dialled 999 while turning off the gas beneath the bacon so the house didn’t catch fire. He reached for Nan’s hand. Tears stung his eyes, tightened his throat.

“Which service do you need? Police, fire, or ambulance?”

“Ambulance. Quick, please. My nan’s unconscious.”

Junior doctor Chaya Tobias looked at the list on her fridge and began ticking off items completed. The bris gift had been dropped off at her friend Gabbi’s house. Her hospital shifts meant she was on nights that day, but she hadn’t wanted to miss out on the important event in five-day-old David’s life. The caterer’s deposit for the wedding had been paid. And she’d dropped food off at her parents’ neighbour, Mr. Cohen, who had lost his wife the previous week.

She considered the threeFs Jews excelled at with a smile. Faith, family, and food.

Her phone vibrated on the counter, and a message from her dad appeared.

We’re leaving now. See you shortly.

Her dad was always half an hour early for everything, which meant she needed to hustle to Asher’s parents’ house to meet them there. It had been Asher’s mum, Rachel’s idea to host a joint celebration for the end ofPesach,Passover, and Asher’s great-grandmother’s ninetieth birthday for both families to get to know each other better ahead of the wedding. Her two brothers and her sister were invited with their families. And Asher’s two sisters were already there helping Rachel make the food.

As much as she wished she was still tucked up in bed instead of getting up four hours after she got home, she was glad she’d stayed late at the hospital and had been trusted to finish up a surgery.

Her long brown hair was thick and took an age to wash, dry, and straighten to perfection. And she’d needed to iron her dress. Then, she’d noticed a scuff on her shoes. While she’d have preferred to take an extra thirty minutes sleeping, she wanted to look good for Asher in front of his family. After all, they’d be her family soon enough.

When she stepped outside, Asher’s car was parked by the kerb.

“You look lovely,” Asher said when she opened the door. A summery song played on the radio, belying the mixed mid-April weather. “I hated the idea it might start to rain while you were walking over.” He leaned across the console to kiss her softly.

“Thank you. That’s really thoughtful,” she said with a yawn.

He placed his hand on her upper thigh and squeezed it gently before pulling away from the kerb. “Still tired?”

Chaya shrugged. “So is the life of a junior doctor. We can’t all be private consultants like you are.”

“Well, get a few more years under your belt and you can go private where the money is and the nights aren’t.”

“Unlike you, I’m not a mercenary. I happen to believe in the NHS and all our nurses and doctors.” Although, life as a junior doctor was akin to running a multiyear endurance course with only three months’ worth of supplies and fifty percent of the teammates you actually required. Long shifts, last-minute annual leave cancellations, and overwhelm came thick and fast.

Asher laughed. “I’m a mercenary, now?”

Chaya playfully gestured around the brand-new Mercedes that had crisp cream carpets and a fresh leathery smell about it. “I mean, you ditched equitable healthcare in favour of wealthy queue jumpers who paid for this.”

“Ouch.”

Her fiancé had expensive taste, and his career choices paid for it. Proof of it sat on her ring finger. He’d spent more time telling her about the ring’s cost for her house insurance policy than he had proposing. It was his only flaw.

“I don’t really think you are a mercenary,” she said. Late nights, long hours, testing patients had, well, tried her patience.

He grinned at her. “I know.”

She checked out his profile. Ten years older, at thirty-seven, he had his first few grey hairs at his temple, but it was the only sign of getting older. His father had gone grey prematurely too. Asher worked out hard. Ate healthily. And managed his schedule with a ridiculous efficiency that she envied. She tried to do the same. Life was planned meticulously so she could squeeze in everything she wanted to. It was a habit she’d learned early and had perfected during university when she had worked two jobs, as well as focusing on her studies.

Yet, despite finishing top of her year, landing one of the best jobs at one of the best teaching hospitals straight out of uni,andgetting a marriage proposal from a successful surgeon, she still felt like she was ever so slightly adrift. Like, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t anchor herself in purpose. Instead, she was anchored in an overwhelming to-do list that never seemed to reduce in size.

She’d prayed about it, listening for clues, but in their absence, she’d concluded it was just there was so much to achieve in her career and not enough time to do everything she wanted.

“I gavetzedakahto the shelter Iz works for as per your great-grandmother’s request,” Chaya said. The Jewish tradition of gratitude was one of the things she loved about her faith, along with the clear framework of rules it provided. “It was nice of her to suggest charitable donations instead of gifts.”

Asher navigated the West Didsbury traffic to his mum and dad’s house as the sky cleared. “She’s ninety and doesn’t really need anything. She lives in sheltered accommodation with limited space and she has mobility issues so struggles to go anywhere. It makes sense.”

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