2. Chapter One #2
Amber was torn apart in the press for leaving her injured fiancé for Doug Abrams—the quarterback who went on to be the NFL’s first-round draft pick.
The headlines were relentless.
I wanted to feel satisfied. To tell myself Brady deserved it. That she left him the way he left me. But I couldn’t.
I wanted to take pleasure in her betrayal, but I couldn’t summon even that.
I hated him. But only because I still loved him.
As the sun crept over the horizon, painting the road in soft amber light, I came back to myself—and to the present. I was nearly there.
I hated the solitude of long drives, hated being alone with nothing but my thoughts for company. They wandered too easily. And too often, they found their way back to Brady Jackson.
You can leave your hometown. Pack your bags. Build a new life. But memories? They don’t care where you live. They follow you. Everywhere. Just like Brady Jackson.
I slammed to a hard stop in the hospital parking lot. I didn’t even turn off the ignition before I was out the door. I sprinted across the pavement, trying to run from my memories. All I needed was to see my Aunt Lu.
As I entered the ICU, I didn’t even need to ask what room she was in. I could hear her raised voice yelling at some poor physician. Apparently, his only crime was where he’d earned his degree.
I checked in at the nurse’s station and tried not to laugh. Aunt Lu had the entire floor in a tizzy. From the look on the nurse’s face, sedation wasn’t off the table.
I headed straight for her room—before they decided to restrain her or worse, call in reinforcements. But honestly, I found myself relieved. If she was well enough to raise hell, she was well enough to fight.
I stepped inside and immediately spotted two nurses and one poor, harried doctor—all doing their best to calm the storm. But every time the doctor stepped closer, Aunt Lu lit up again, launching into another tirade about the incompetence of the University of Alabama.
It was absurd. And it was Aunt Lu. And I couldn’t help but smile.
“Aunt Lu.”
Every head in the room turned.
She looked pale—even for being all riled up—and was hooked up to a mess of machines that beeped like they were tattling on her behavior. For a woman in her late sixties, she could still pass for early fifties. She was still feisty. Still stunning. Still the most beautiful woman in the world to me.
But I hated seeing her like that—so small against starched sheets and tangled wires.
She narrowed her eyes the moment she saw me.
“Ella Lu, tell these people I am not to be seen by anyone from that forsaken school!”
I gave the doctor a sheepish grin. “May I please speak with you in the hall?”
He looked almost grateful—relieved to have a reason to escape the patient room my aunt had turned into a battlefield.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to say once we stepped into the corridor.
How do you explain a forty-five-year-old grudge rooted in heartbreak, betrayal, and college football?
That my aunt’s ex-fiancé—an alum of the very school she now despised—left her for her best friend and that their son did the same thing to me, decades later.
I didn’t have the time—or emotional bandwidth—to unpack all that. So I did what any loving, slightly panicked niece would do: I opted to lie through my teeth. I reasoned my aunt was too ill to be so agitated and needed immediate treatment.
When we entered the hall, I reached out my hand to shake his. “Hello, I’m Elle Eaton. Luanne’s niece.”
It’s worth noting that I’d changed my name. As an author, I thought Elle sounded more sophisticated. And maybe I wanted to leave Ella Lu behind in Kaysville.
My aunt hated it and refused to call me Elle. I would always be Ella Lu to her.
He took my hand with a sympathetic smile. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Eaton. I’m Dr. Sandstrom.”
“Dr. Sandstrom, please forgive my aunt’s behavior. You may have noticed—she’s rather partial to Auburn.”
He nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in quiet amusement.
Now came the lie. “Unfortunately, she had a bad experience with a doctor from your illustrious . . .” I nearly gagged saying it, “. . . alma mater. I’m sure you’re a wonderful physician, truly. But by any chance, is there another doctor on call this morning?”
He gave a courteous shrug. “Miss Eaton, I’m the only cardiologist on staff.”
Well, that was a problem. I wanted her to be seen to. “Dr. Sandstrom, did perhaps you attend another school for pre-med? Maybe Auburn?”
He tilted his head, confused, but then I saw it. The flicker in his eyes. He understood.
Yes, I was asking the doctor to lie, too.
I flashed him my most charming smile. “I know it’s a lot to ask of an Alabama man, but could you please?”
He studied me for a moment, brow furrowed. “You look familiar. I swear I’ve heard your name before.”
“Do you have any little girls?” I asked.
“Yes, two.”
“Do you read to them?”
His eyes lit up. “You write the Aunt Calliope and Jane books. My daughters love those stories.”
“Fabulous.” I gave him my most persuasive smile. “In exchange for your help this morning, I’ll send over signed copies of my new release.”
“You have yourself a deal.”
“Oh, and it might help to mention to my aunt how much you—and your daughters—adore my books.”
“All right.” He grinned.
Together we walked back, and the doctor gave a performance of a lifetime. Thankfully, it did the trick.
He managed to examine her and ordered the necessary tests, though she did make sure to let him know what a mistake it was not to finish his MD at Auburn. He nodded solemnly, like a man absorbing scripture. Just for that, I’d throw in some Aunt Calliope and Jane dolls.
Once we were finally alone, I took Aunt Lu’s hand and sat beside her.
“Don’t look at me like that, Ella Lu,” she said, her voice soft but still tinged with fire. “This was only an episode.”
I grinned. “Yes, I’m sure, but humor me. Behave yourself and let the doctors do what they need to do.”
“As long as they aren’t from that forsaken school. No Alabama graduate will be touching me.”
I sighed and stood, knowing exactly what I had to do.
I slipped out to speak with the nurses, and—with more charm than shame—bribed them all to lie. Nothing dramatic. Just a little chart note: “Please refrain from mentioning University of Alabama credentials.”
I had a feeling I would be buying lots of pastries and rounds of coffee on a daily basis for those taking care of my aunt. They had no idea what they were in store for.
While Aunt Lu was out for testing, I sent an email to my office and agent. I let them know I’d be out for a few days—at least. We’d likely need to reschedule some bookstore signings set for the holiday season. I hated doing that, but family came first. And Aunt Lu was the only family I had.
With the adrenaline finally wearing off, I tried to catch a few winks. Hospitals, I quickly learned, are the worst places to sleep. Just as I started to nod off, they wheeled Aunt Lu back into the room. I sat up and gave her a sleepy smile.
“You look like hell, Ella Lu,” she said lovingly.
“I love you, too, Aunt Lu. And I’m fine.”
“Go to the house and get some rest,” she suggested—more like commanded.
I blinked, surprised she’d offered. I hadn’t been back home since I was eighteen. Aunt Lu had told me it was for the best. That I needed to go and never look back. Why had she changed her mind all of a sudden?
“I’ll get a hotel room nearby tonight,” I stammered, terrified of going home. Facing my memories. It was bad enough they lived rent free inside my head.
“That’s nonsense, child. You can stay at the house.”
“We’ll see,” I said cautiously, settling next to her side, not wanting to upset her. “So, tell me what happened.”
“Doris overreacted,” she huffed. “I had a little pain and some shortness of breath, and the next thing I know I’m being whisked off in an ambulance against my wishes. The fools wouldn’t even take me to Kaysville General.”
I couldn’t help but snicker. I knew I shouldn’t laugh, but she was a riot. No doubt those paramedics got an earful.
“Well, you’ve got to be tired, too. Why don’t you try to get some rest until we get your results back. Do you want me to get you anything?”
“Yes,” she said. “Send for my cosmetics. And my satin pajamas. If they think I’m wearing this ridiculous article of clothing during my stay here, they have another think coming.” She pointed at the blue hospital gown with disdain.
I smirked. “Anything else?”
She reached for my hand, holding it gently but firmly. “Yes. I want you to call my lawyer.”
“Why?” I said, slightly panicked.
She squeezed my fingers. Her eyes locked onto mine, steady and knowing. “Because it’s time .”