Stay Awhile

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by Gia Riley




  Table of Contents

  Stay Awhile

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dear Readers

  About The Author

  Other Work by Gia Riley

  Acknowledgements

  Stay Awhile

  Copyright © 2016 by Gia Riley

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet without the publisher’s permission and is in violation of the International copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Editing:

  Nichole Strauss, Perfectly Publishable

  Cover Design:

  Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs

  Interior Design & Formatting:

  Christine Borgford, Perfectly Publishable

  Table of Contents

  Stay Awhile

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dear Readers

  About The Author

  Other Work by Gia Riley

  Acknowledgements

  To the past.

  Just because it’s over, doesn’t mean it’s gone.

  Megan

  AS I PUSH THE FRONT door open, I’m surprised the house is still lit up at almost eleven o’clock at night. My flight was late, late enough that Laney should be in bed by now. But as I lug my suitcase into the foyer, and can’t find my husband or my daughter, I assume they’re hiding from me, waiting to welcome me home as soon as I find them.

  “Laney,” I call out. “Where are you, baby? Connor?”

  A tall brunette in a business suit sits at the island in the kitchen, waving her hands around frantically as she talks into her cell phone. There’s a glass of white wine in front of her, most likely my favorite Moscato.

  My first reaction is to pull her off the stool and ask her why she’s sitting in my house, but I hang back by the doorway, listening to her conversation. “Connor has no idea, Mia. I promise there’s no way it’ll be a problem. He told me I can trust him, and this is my way of making sure I can.”

  Knowing she’s here for my husband, in my house, drinking my wine, only makes the rage inside me build. How could he bring her into our home? Better yet, how did she even get inside if he isn’t here?

  I’m scared enough that I’m shaking, and I as I tap her on her shoulder, my hand trembles. “Excuse me,” I say with more apprehension than venom.

  She turns around so fast, her extensions slap her in the face. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’d like to ask you the same thing, but I think I already have a pretty good idea. Where’s my husband?”

  She ends her phone call, slamming it down on the marble countertop. “Connor told me to meet him here at nine-thirty, after his daughter was in bed. You definitely weren’t supposed to be here.”

  “You know about me? And you don’t care?”

  “It is what it is,” she says rudely. “But I guess he had his facts mixed up.”

  “If Connor’s not here, how did you get inside?”

  “With my key.”

  My heart pounds so hard in my chest, I can feel my pulse thumping in both ears. Like I’m stuck under the water in a tunnel, I’m desperately trying to kick my way to the surface before I run out of oxygen.

  In the pit of my stomach, I had a feeling Connor was seeing someone else, but it hurt too much to imagine him romantically involved with another woman. He’s mine. He’s always been mine. And I have no idea why that’s changed for him.

  “Have you been here before?” I ask her, even though I’m afraid to hear the answer to my own question.

  “Yes,” she answers, simply. No explanation—nothing. I deserve so much more than that.

  I should yell at her, rip her fake hair out, and toss her bitchy ass out on the front porch where it belongs. Anything to show her that she can’t come into my house and wait for my husband. I don’t say a word though. My body is shaking too hard, and my teeth are chattering like I’m standing in a foot of snow completely naked. That’s how exposed I feel with her in my home.

  When I don’t move, she asks, “Are you okay?”

  “Do I look okay?”

  She shrugs her shoulders like she doesn’t need to give my question a dignified response. I hate her even more.

  I’m devastated Connor used my time away to play house with another woman instead of spending quality time with our daughter. I’m sad it took me this long to come to terms with what I already knew was going on behind my back. More than anything, I’m crushed that I have the proof standing in front of me that he’s nothing more than a lying, cheating asshole.

  “You need to leave,” I tell her when she doesn’t offer to leave on her own.

  She doesn’t argue, and I don’t even bother to ask for her name. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is my daughter, and right now, she’s not where she’s supposed to be—safe and sound in her bed.

  As soon as she’s gone, I dial Connor’s number. It rings the standard four times before going to voicemail. There’s no return call, no text, nothing from him—and I’m worried.

  I pull my laptop out of the bag I brought it home in, cursing the Wi-Fi fo
r taking so long to connect. As soon as the search engine pops up, I type in the name of the closest hospital. My fingers are so cold I spell it wrong two times before I get the letters in the right places.

  The first number I spot is for the emergency room, so that’s the one I call. Every mother’s worst nightmare comes true as I beg the receptionist to search for my tiny family. The one I never imagined could break. “Connor Campbell and Laney Campbell,” I tell her.

  “Ma’am, they’re both listed. Connor is here, but Laney has been transferred to Children’s Hospital.”

  “Ohmigod.”

  When I dialed the number, I never imagined that’s where they’d actually be. I was praying it was a flat tire, or maybe they ran out of gas and had to take a walk.

  Now that I found them, I have a million questions I need answers to, but I’m not going to get any of those until I get to the hospital, so I hang up and try to put one foot in front of the other despite my legs feeling like cement and my feet like bricks.

  As I run around my living room, searching for Laney’s favorite doll, I realize she must have taken it with her. We spent hours in the American Girl store when I took her to New York City at the end of summer. She told me it was heaven on earth and her favorite place in the whole world. Now, she’s lying in some scary hospital without me. My baby is all alone.

  What if she’s not okay?

  What if my husband isn’t okay?

  I can’t breathe.

  Garrett

  Three days later . . .

  “MOMMY, I DON’T FEEL GOOD. My tummy hurts. My head, too.”

  Megan pushes the blond curls off her daughter’s forehead. Laney looks exactly like her and Megan doesn’t look much different than the day we graduated high school, seventeen years ago.

  “I know, sweet girl,” Megan tells her daughter, with emotion lacing her voice. “The doctor will be here soon. He’s going to make you all better.”

  If I had a dollar for every time I heard those words come out of a parent’s mouth, I wouldn’t have to work another day in my lifetime. The promises they make to their child can be a lot to live up to—sometimes even impossible when the odds are stacked against what medicine is capable of curing. But as always, I’ll do everything in my power to end this nightmare for them.

  Laney clutches the doll in her hand a little tighter when she asks, “What’s the doctor going to do to me?”

  I watch as Megan inches a little closer on the bed, making sure her voice is smooth and sure, and not at all as scared as she’s got to be feeling on the inside. “He’ll talk to us first. You can ask him anything you want.”

  “Then what?” Laney asks, curiously. “Why do I keep getting new doctors?”

  “Because this doctor is a surgeon. He’s going to tell us about your test results, and then maybe you’ll have to do a couple more.”

  “Is it gonna hurt? I don’t like the needles, Mommy.” Laney’s chin quivers, and it tears straight through my heart.

  Neither of them should be here. Nobody should have to go through this—especially when Christmas is right around the corner.

  Like most kids her age, Laney should be sitting on Santa’s lap, rattling off a long list of toys that are impossible to find in the stores thanks to every other kid in town wanting the exact same thing. Megan should be worrying about finding the perfect Christmas tree, decorating it just the way Laney wants. Instead, she’s with her daughter, helping her to recover from one of the worst accidents we’ve seen this year.

  But as calmly as possible, Megan doesn’t skip a beat as her daughter continues to fire off a string of questions no mother should have to answer. Even then, she responds with honesty in words Laney can easily understand. “Let’s wait and see what the doctor says before we worry, okay?”

  Laney nods, biting her lip to keep the tears from falling. She’s strong like her mother.

  Treating patients and meeting families is a part of my daily routine. That’s why when someone I recognize walks through the doors, I want to throw up. I’ve been keeping a close eye on Megan since Laney was admitted three days ago.

  The stays here at Children’s Hospital can be long, complicated even, and Megan’s about to get news that will only make their stay tougher. Though, if Laney’s half as feisty as her mother was in high school, she’s going to handle this better than most.

  Judging from the ring missing from Megan’s finger, the whispers floating around town must be true. I never liked her husband, but he’s always had her heart and there’s never been a damn thing I could do about it. Now I wish I had.

  “Is this orthpostic doctor nice, Mommy?”

  “Orthopedic,” she corrects as she sounds out the syllables of the word for Laney. “He’s very nice. I went to school with him when I was little.”

  “Wow! You know my doctor? What’s his name?”

  I chuckle at Laney’s excitement. I wish all kids shared her level of enthusiasm when it came to meeting me. It would make my job a hell of a lot easier.

  “His name is Dr. Kristoff,” Megan tells her.

  “Just like in Frozen, Mommy. Is he a prince and a doctor?”

  Trying her best to hide her laughter, Megan has to turn her head away from Laney to regain her composure—at my expense. It doesn’t bother me though, because I’m waiting just as eagerly as Laney for Megan’s answer. I’ve never even seen the entire movie, but my niece makes sure I watch part of it at least once a week. Thankfully, she usually loses interest before it finishes and drags me off to play with her Barbie’s instead.

  After Megan thinks about it, she says, “I guess Dr. Kristoff could be a prince, but I think he’s more of a superhero.”

  Completely invested in the story, Laney tilts her head to the side, thinking about the possibilities. “A superhero? Why?”

  “Because he can make little boys and girls like you feel better. He puts them back together. That’s pretty special.”

  Laney’s eyes grow wider. “Do you think he wears a cape at home?”

  This time Megan doesn’t try to hold back her smile or her laugh. She lets the warmth float from her lips and it hits me right in the gut. God, she’s beautiful.

  “Yes, I bet he has a couple capes at home.”

  As soon as I see the signal from Megan, a thumbs up behind her back, I know her daughter’s calm enough for me to enter the room. She warned me Laney was pretty freaked out after they had to draw blood for her labs late last night. So before I rush into the room like I usually do, I take off my lab coat, tying the sleeves around my neck. If I walk fast enough, it’ll billow out in the back, hopefully looking like the cape I’m supposed to be wearing.

  “Mommy, look!” Laney points at me as her little face lights up. “He does have a cape!”

  Megan’s smile slowly fades as she watches me charge into the room. She bites into her lower lip, trying her best to keep her tears from falling despite her eyes welling up. “Thank you,” she mouths, silently.

  I wink back at her, letting her know I hear her loud and clear. I’d do just about anything for a friend—even dressing up like a fool when my colleagues are right around the corner.

  Laney was asleep the first time I came to her room, but now that her eyes are wide open, I notice how much the stormy gray matches Megan’s. She may have some of her dad’s features, too, but those eyes are all Megan. “Hi, Laney. How are you feeling?”

  “Hi, Dr. Kristoff.”

  “You remembered my name.”

  Unable to move easily on her own, Laney tries her best to scoot higher in her bed for our conversation. “Mommy didn’t tell me your real name. But I think I know it.”

  “You mean my first name?”

  “Yeah, the name your friends call you,” she explains.

  Before I have a chance to answer, Megan jumps in. “It’s not polite to call a doctor by his first name, Laney.”

  “Why not?” she asks curiously.

  Glancing at me out of the corner of her eye, Megan sm
irks as she says, “Because he worked really hard in medical school, and that fancy title cost a lot of money.”

  Not the least bit surprised she’s throwing digs at me like she used to, all I can do is shake my head. Even when she’s going through hell, she still has her sense of humor. The same sass that used to challenge me every morning in homeroom. She was always the highlight of my day.

  Megan’s also the only girl who never took my shit and called me out on every single mistake I made. I loved when she challenged me. It would have been obnoxious coming from anyone else, but Megan wasn’t like most girls then, and from the little bit I’ve seen, she still isn’t.

  Laney has a curious expression, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how much school costs. To a little girl her age, a dollar is a lot of money. There’s no way she would be able to wrap her mind around the cost of medical school.

  “Was my name expensive?” she asks her mom.

  “No, baby. But it’s a very special name,” Megan tells her daughter and she kisses her small hand. Their nails are both painted the same shade of bubblegum pink.

  Laney accepts the answer, her smile replacing some of her doubt. She’s barely taken her eyes off me since I walked through the door. While I’m usually attached to my iPad, checking test results or outlining a treatment plan, I haven’t glanced at the screen once since I left my last patient.

  Even though I’m not in a rush, the longer I sit here with Laney, the longer it will take to finish my rounds. If it wasn’t for my pain in the ass sister, Grace, I wouldn’t be worried about the time at all—especially now that Laney’s in my care. But I owe Grace a favor, and she’s chosen tonight of all nights to cash it in.

  She’s set me up on another one of her blind dates, and after listening to the same lecture I’ve heard a million times, I caved. “You’ll die an old, lonely man without a life partner to share your retirement with, Garrett. You’re thirty-five years old. You need to go on this date.” Grace doesn’t play fair—ever, and once again I’ve fallen victim to the little sister curse. I was only five years old when I promised to protect her. Now that we’re both grown adults, not much has changed. I’ll still cave when she begs, even at my own expense.

 

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