by Loretta Lost
“No way,” the waitress says. “It’s not about your past or your former experiences. The possibility for an amazing outcome is always just as likely as a horrible one. If you only dwell on the worst possible outcomes, it will take away your ability to create happy memories in the moment and sabotage your future. You need to let go of your fear. You need to let yourself be excited.”
“You’re so sweet,” I tell her thankfully. “I need a friend like you.”
The waitress laughs again. “My name’s Krista. I work here almost every day, so feel free to stop by and chat whenever you need a fresh perspective.”
“Thanks,” I tell her softly, giving her a smile before turning to leave. I paid for my coffee ages ago, but I am now wishing I had left a better tip to show my gratitude. As I move through the hospital, following Liam’s directions, I consider the waitress’s words. Have I really allowed myself to get excited about anything in my life, lately? I haven’t truly allowed myself to really believe that things could work out with Liam. Even in the best of moments, I do hold on to that lingering fear that something could go easily go wrong, and probably will very soon.
I have been sabotaging myself.
For a second, I pause in the middle of the hospital halls. I temporarily forget Liam’s instructions. I squint with realization as I take a moment to regret my pessimistic thinking. Things aren’t really that bad. I have a career that I absolutely love, and my new book is coming along quite well. I am not rich, but I am self-sufficient enough with money that I don’t think I need to cash my dad’s check—but if I needed money in an emergency, it’s nice to know I have a backup plan. Grayson is gone from my life—hopefully for good—and my health is looking to improve. I have begun practicing martial arts, and I might even be able to see soon. Even being able to see a tiny amount would be life changing! To top it all off, I have a budding romance with a really wonderful, intelligent guy.
I smile, realizing that I have a lot to be thankful for. Maybe if I can only change my thinking, everything could get better. Maybe Liam will be my happily ever after. Maybe I’ll be a famous, successful writer. Maybe I’ll be able to have a family someday. All I need to do is keep moving forward and accept the help that’s being offered to me. I just have to put myself in destiny’s hands and let her take care of me. For once, maybe she will.
I begin walking again with renewed purpose until a little ding alerts me to the location of the elevators. I alter my path and move quickly toward the sound of heavy doors sliding open. I cram my body into the cabin along with several other people. Earlier today, Liam gave me a ride to the hospital, but I had to keep myself busy with my writing while he saw his other patients. Now, it’s my turn, and I’m a little nervous. People are chattering all around me, but I can’t seem to focus on their conversations. When we arrive at the third floor, I exit the elevator and turn right—at least I think Liam said to go right—and head down the hallway.
I listen closely for the sounds of people talking, trying to determine whether I’m in the ophthalmology area. I hear a pair of women’s voices and move closer to them, only to discover that they are talking about how annoyed they are with their husbands.
“He does absolutely nothing all day, and he expects me to cook and clean for him like some 50s housewife. Excuse me? I make more money than he does.”
“At least he isn’t sleeping with his secretary,” the other woman grumbles. “And the bastard thinks I don’t know!”
“You have to leave him.”
This conversation doesn’t help to situate me much, other than to inform me that I might be in some sort of waiting area filled with extremely bored women. I hope that I won’t be forced to sit and wait here among them. It might drive me insane. I consider asking someone for help, but I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I hear a door open, along with a shuffling of papers, and I move awkwardly toward the sound.
“I think there’s been enough improvement that we won’t need surgery.”
“That’s great news!”
I feel a bit embarrassed at needing to eavesdrop on everyone’s conversations. A low masculine grumble alerts me to the charming sound of Liam’s voice. I move toward it like a ship sailing toward a lighthouse in the dark, empty ocean.
“—just keep monitoring him for me.”
“Yes, Dr. Larson. You only have one more patient today and then the other doctors can take over. I’ve got a break coming up shortly, too. Any plans for lunch?”
“I’m afraid I have to go straight home after work today, Melanie. Why don’t we go for sushi tomorrow when I have more time?”
“You work so hard, Dr. Larson,” says the woman’s voice in a very tender way. “It was supposed to be your day off today. Why did you come in at all? Was it because you missed me?”
I narrow my eyes at this conversation.
Liam clears his throat. “Actually, Melanie, our next patient is very special. She’s the test subject that Owen and I mentioned to you a while back. We needed to bump her surgery up, so we’re doing the prep today.”
“Oh,” Melanie says in disappointment. “Yes, I remember. The girl who’s supposed to be ‘the master key’ to all your research.”
“That’s right. We’re so close to success that I can almost taste it!” Liam says, and there is a peculiar excitement in his voice.
I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound like this, and for a moment, I feel like he’s a complete stranger. The master key? A little seed of anxiety begins to sprout in my gut, but I try desperately to push it down and hold onto my positivity.
“Will you take me out to dinner to celebrate?” Melanie asks coyly.
“Sure! We’ll all have to go,” Liam says, “the whole department.”
“Oh,” Melanie says in disappointment, understanding his subtle rejection. “Great.”
I feel a bit reassured by his little show of loyalty. At least, I think it was loyalty. It doesn’t matter. I am not going to go looking for little signs of trouble and start overanalyzing them until I drive myself crazy and ruin this. I just decided that I was going to be happy and stop the self-sabotage. If Liam wanted to be with this nurse instead of me, I’m sure he would be.
The door that I am standing near swings open wider, and Liam and the nurse step outside. I don’t even care that I’ve been caught eavesdropping.
“Am I in the right place?” I ask Liam with a sly smile.
“Yes,” he responds at once, and his tone is familiar again. He moves forward to touch my arm before turning back to the nurse. “Melanie, this is Winter Rose, the test subject I mentioned to you.”
“That’s a fancy name,” says Melanie again, in jealous tone. She looks at me for a moment. “Well, aren’t you a lucky duck?”
“Excuse me?” I respond.
“To have been chosen for this,” she clarifies. “I have met a lot of patients who would die for an opportunity like this.”
“Yes,” I respond in a voice filled with a confidence and strength that is rare for me. “I am very lucky and grateful.”
“If you just come into this room, I’ll begin prepping you with eye drops so that the doctor can run some tests.” Melanie reaches out to take my hand, but I pull away from her reflexively like I have been touched by fire.
I might be trying very hard to be optimistic, but it’s still difficult to be touched.
“Why don’t you let me prep her?” Liam asks. “I can tell her a bit about the procedure while I do that.”
“Sure,” says Melanie a bit skeptically as Liam pulls me into the examination room and shuts the door.
Liam guides me over to the chair and places my hand on it so I can determine where I am. I slide my backpack off and place it on the ground before climbing into the chair. It is extremely comfortable.
“Winter,” he says in a whisper, leaning close to me. “I don’t know what you heard, but there’s nothing going on with her. I swear.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m not wor
ried. We were never exclusive or anything, anyway.” My face suddenly twists up in confusion. “I guess we were never really even together.”
“But that’s just the problem,” he says. “That’s been bothering me.”
“What?” I say impatiently and nervously. “Liam, will you just get the damn eye drops? I don’t think this is the time or place.” I feel a bit sensitive and unprepared for this conversation. More importantly, I’m still afraid of a negative outcome. The momentary high from the philosophical waitress’s pep talk is fading fast.
“But I want to be exclusive,” Liam insists. “I’ve been meaning to ask you a question.”
I feel him take one of my hands in both of his, and his entire body lowers. My eyes widen in surprise and confusion as I realize he is down on one knee—or possibly both knees. “Liam...”
“Winter Rose, author of many astounding books, will you please be my girlfriend?”
I burst out laughing. “What are you talking about?”
“We haven’t had this talk. We haven’t made it official. I don’t want you to have any doubt in your mind that I want to be committed to you. I want us to be together.”
There is heat spreading through my cheeks, and I’m quite sure that I must be very flushed. My stomach does little flip-flops, encouraging me to respond with enthusiastic agreement. I just decided that I was going to let myself be excited. I gulp before trying to speak. “I don’t know...”
“You’re supposed to say ‘yes,’” he instructs, nudging my leg.
“Um, okay,” I mumble with embarrassment. “I guess? Yes?”
“Great! Now for a second question. Winter, will you please move in with me?”
“I’m already staying at your place,” I inform him.
“No, no,” he says, and clears his throat before repeating himself. “Will you move in with me as my girlfriend? And seriously consider staying with me and not running away to New Hampshire?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.
“You need to say ‘yes,’” he reminds me impatiently.
“Fine, fine.” My lips curl upward in a smirk. “Dr. Liam Larson, great fixer of many broken eyes, yes, I will move in with you. And consider not running away.”
“Good girl,” he says softly, rising up to press a kiss against my lips.
The way he says that gives me a little shiver. “I reserve the right to change my mind if you act like a jerk,” I warn him.
“I will try my best to make you happy,” he promises. Then he hesitates. “And I’ll stop holding back. I think we’ve both been holding back.”
“Yeah.” I nod slightly in gratitude. It was a lot more painful than I care to admit when he held back the other night.
“I think we both just needed a little security before really allowing ourselves to dive in,” Liam explains. “At least... I did. But I’m ready to dive in now, if you are. I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me so long to say all this.”
“Don’t worry,” I say gently. “It took me a while to realize that I wanted this. But now, I know that I do. And I’m... excited about you.”
“Good,” Liam says, gently pushing me back in the exam chair. “Now, it’s time for a whole bunch of boring and tedious tests. I will also be giving you antibiotic eye drops to reduce the risk of postoperative infection. You’ll have to keep taking them at regular intervals for a while before and after the surgery. We usually do one eye at a time, and leave a few weeks in between surgeries so that the first eye can heal—but I want to do both of your eyes as soon as possible. It won’t be exciting at all, and some of it will be uncomfortable or even painful. Do you trust me?”
“Always,” I tell him softly. I don’t want to question it anymore. I feel completely safe in his hands.
“Do you want to watch a movie tonight?” Liam asks as he holds the door for me to step into his apartment. “You should take it easy and relax before the surgery.”
“No, I think I’ll just work,” I tell him as I enter and begin removing my shoes. “I am way behind on my book and I feel really guilty. I got a little work done earlier at the cafeteria, but other than that, I’ve been so unproductive. I should probably try.” I slip off my backpack and place it on the island of his kitchen counter. “Feel free to watch your movies: the noise won’t bother me.”
“I’d love to read what you have written, if you’d like some feedback,” Liam offers. “Maybe I could encourage you or give you some ideas.”
I turn to look at him with puzzlement as I pull my notetaker out of my backpack. “Are you for real? You want to help me with my work?”
“Sure!” he says eagerly. “I’m excited to get to read your stories before everyone else.”
“You’re too good to be true,” I accuse him as I slide onto his kitchen chair and begin preparing my work area. “Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you’d rather just relax and watch TV or play video games or something.”
Liam moves forward to stand behind my chair and gently squeezes my shoulders. “Winter, I have been relaxing, watching TV, and playing video games in my spare time for years before I met you. Now, there’s this wonderful girl in my life, and my apartment, and I have the opportunity to either amuse myself with brainless activities for fun, or try to participate in her world. I could make a little effort to connect with her, while also showing her that I care.” He combs his fingers through my hair, lifting it away so he can begin to massage the back of my neck. “Plus, helping her means I get to read awesome stories that are better than any TV show or video game. I get to take a little glimpse deeper inside her beautiful mind. You do the math. It’s not a difficult decision.”
My head tilts back a little as I enjoy the sensation of his massage. I consider his words for a moment, and a swell of emotion rises up in my throat. When I try to speak, I’m a little choked up. “I’ve never had anyone that cared about me that much before,” I tell him softly. “Before I ran away and committed to writing full-time, everyone around me only tried to interfere with my writing. Carmen and my dad were always dragging me away from my computer for one reason or another. To have fun, go shopping, or help them with their lives. I guess they thought that when I was sitting at my desk and working in my spare time that there was something wrong with me—that I wasn’t having fun. They didn’t understand that it was not only the most fun I could possibly have, but the most rewarding and meaningful part of my life.”
Liam continues to knead the muscles around my neck. “I don’t know if I have anything like that. I have ambition, but sometimes when I achieve my goals, I’m left feeling a little empty.”
“If I stop writing for too long, I feel empty,” I admit. His massage is making me a tiny bit drowsy, and I allow my eyes to close. The tiredness is making me more honest than usual. “It’s usually the only time I’m really happy.”
Liam’s hands pause and rest against my shoulders. “I do understand how you feel. Real life can be hard, and when you get whisked away into a beautiful story—everything else disappears. You can be someone else, somewhere else. When I’m reading your books, I can completely escape into your world and feel the same happiness that you feel while writing them. It’s a unique experience that no one else could create exactly the way you do.”
I lean my head back to rest against his chest, trying to fight against the small wave of sleepiness. “I think I’d just die or fade into nothingness without my writing,” I confess. “It’s the only special thing about me—the only thing that makes my life worthwhile.”
“We need to change that, Winter. You’re special in so many ways.”
“I just don’t know how to do anything else,” I tell him. I clear my throat and try to shake off my exhaustion as I reach out to touch my computer. I let my hands rest lightly on the keys. “Every time I’ve tried to really experience something new, horrible things happen. I should warn you that I don’t really know how to be a girlfriend, or even a normal person. I’m only a writer. It’s like writing is the o
nly way I can be alive—and be free.”
“I wish I was artistic,” Liam says softly. “I must admit that part of the reason I want to help is that I’ll get to live vicariously through you. You’re so independent. My job depends on so many other people, facilities, equipment, rules and regulations, standards—if I make one wrong move, it could all fall apart. I like the way you get to answer only to yourself, and create absolutely anything you want.”
“I am still slightly limited by market trends and what the publisher expects,” I tell him. “But those are mostly just general guidelines. I can take the basic story and run with it in almost any direction I choose. Or I could write something entirely my own and deal with the consequences of having trouble getting it published—and once I do, making hardly any money.” I laugh lightly at myself, because I have done this before. “But I do love the freedom.”
“Doesn’t it ever get lonely?” Liam asks.
“Of course,” I tell him quietly. “Loneliness is the price of freedom. It’s a price I’ve always been more than willing to pay. It can be very hard to create, sometimes. It requires a lot of sacrifices.”
“Maybe you won’t have to make those sacrifices anymore,” Liam tells me, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head. “Maybe you won’t have to be lonely anymore. Maybe you just need someone who really believes in you and your work.”
I bite down on my lip to suppress the emotion. He’s basically promising me paradise, and I doubt he has any idea how much it means to me. “The only person who ever really supported me was my mother. And she’s gone.”
“Well,” Liam says, resting his chin on the top of my head, “you can count on me to be in your corner. I’ll be your biggest fan. I’ll be your cheerleader—although I absolutely refuse to wear a short pleated skirt. Unless you’re into that.”
The image causes me to erupt in giggles, relieving some of the heavy tension from my mind. The joke soothes me far more than his massage managed to do. Who is this man? How does he manage to make me feel good on both the inside and out? He must be some kind of fairytale prince. I am now convinced of this. I feel so happy that I’m sort of dizzy and worry that I might fall off the chair I’m sitting in. The laughter has caused me to double over uncontrollably, but I try to get ahold of my senses.
