Chapter 22 – Lee
Dr. Underwood’s magazine selection was underwhelming. I’d forgotten to charge my phone, so that left me with nothing to do but eavesdrop and daydream. My two most marketable skills. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep while I listened.
Vi had dropped me off with a promise to run a few errands in town and swing back once I was done.
Arguing would have been silly, but after last night, it was difficult to let her go, even for a few minutes.
I’d woken with her wrapped in my arms, her hair tickling my chin.
Pretty much my idea of the perfect morning.
Instead of pulling away and finding privacy to reset, I’d snuggled closer, my heart ricocheting around my chest when she murmured softly in her sleep, nestling into my shoulder like she belonged.
At least in her sleep, she seemed to sense what I already knew: I was hers.
Maybe I wasn’t done proving it to her yet, but if I had anything to say about it, she’d never doubt me again.
The office door chimed softly, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hey, Lanie. I’m here for my follow up,” Leona Marks called, her voice soft and familiar. Her name snagged my attention. I’d seen it before, in the gallery’s sales records, tied to one of the art pieces that Lucy had flagged as a suspicious transaction.
Leona didn’t look sick – not unless you knew what to watch for.
Thin to the point of frail, shoulders slightly rounded from coughing and throat-clearing.
Her laughter carried a soft wheeze, but she never held it back.
She worked part-time at the bakery and always greeted me with a smile.
It struck me as deeply unfair that she’d been managing this disease for so long.
And yet, for someone living with cystic fibrosis, her symptoms were surprisingly subtle. Praise pharma.
I’d only done the most basic research into CF and the therapies available for a book, but it made me curious. The big drugs for the disease carried equally hefty price tags. Specialty clinics usually managed them. Then again, maybe Dr. Underwood was only doing her regular bloodwork.
“Great, Leona, I have you all checked in.”
I filed Leona’s arrival away for later, listening as the office staff checked in three more patients.
The rhythm of the office was oddly comforting – efficient, personal, just busy enough to seem normal.
If someone wanted to hide something in plain sight, a quiet rural medical practice wouldn’t be a bad place to start.
“Lee? We have an exam room ready for you now.”
I followed Dr. Underwood’s nurse back to the scale. She scrawled my current weight in my blue file folder and ushered me toward an exam room. “Just take a seat. Dr. Underwood should be with you shortly.”
Counting to ten, I eased the door open. Shuffling down the hall as quietly as my boot would allow, I noticed a red folder tucked into the acrylic rack on the door to Exam Room 3.
Leona Mark’s file.
I snagged the red folder, flipping it open and scanning as quickly as I could. Kalydeco. The medication name was familiar.
Someone rustled behind the door, the sound of voices getting louder. I slipped the folder back and limped to my room, spotting one other red folder and another blue on my way. Curious. Maybe nothing. But if anyone could sniff out the truth, it was Vi.
I dashed off a quick text to her.
Lee: If you have time, nose around the front desk.
Lee: Some files are red, some blue. Might mean something.
Dr. Underwood joined me in the exam room with a stiff smile a few minutes later. “Lee. How are you feeling?”
She probably didn’t want to hear about the multiple orgasms Vi and I had managed the night before. But I felt fucking great. I coughed, pushing down the smug satisfaction that wanted to bubble up and creep onto my face.
“The ankle feels pretty decent. The occasional twinge, but the pain has died down.”
“Let’s take a look.” Dr. Underwood examined my foot, pressing and manipulating the joint and surrounding tissue, observing my face as she asked if it hurt.
“More pressure than pain,” I said.
She gave a crisp nod, rolling her stool back.
“Good. Let’s get you out of the boot and into physical therapy.
We’re going to wean you from the support an hour a day.
So, starting tomorrow, I want you to remove it at five in the evening.
Every day after that, take it off an hour earlier, until you’re out of it entirely. Sound good?”
“Can I take it off to drive sooner?”
She frowned thoughtfully and nodded. “That should be fine, if you’re sticking close to town. No long road trips.”
“Got it. Thanks, Doc.”
She waved off my appreciation. “Just doing my job, Lee. I’ll have my office send in the PT referral today. They should call you within a day or two. I want to see you back in a month.”
As eager as I was to rip the boot off and walk free immediately, her more measured approach made sense.
Violet looked up from her Kindle in the waiting room, an odd smile in place. “Ready?”
I nodded, shuffling after her out to the car.
“What did the doctor say?” she asked as we drove toward home.
“I can start weaning myself off the boot and begin driving. I start physical therapy as soon as I can get it scheduled.”
“That’s awesome.” Something about Vi’s tone sounded off. She was rigid behind the wheel, gaze focused on the road. “Guess you won’t need me anymore.” Nothing could be further from the truth. “I’ll pack my things this afternoon after work, if that’s okay with you.”
Her words were like a punch to the gut, leaving me gasping. But I’d imposed on her goodwill long enough. She’d abandoned her life to help me. She probably missed the comforts of home. Her privacy. I’d been such a needy bastard, she’d barely been to her house in the last few weeks.
“There’s no rush,” I said, at a loss for how to ask her to stay. She had a house of her own. A life. “The house is going to feel empty without you.”
Sure. The house was going to feel empty. Not me. That sense of dread at having her even a few blocks away was just the dependency leaving my body. Not the fact that I’d become addicted to having her with me.
“I thought you enjoyed living alone,” she said, a note of caution in her words.
I couldn’t let her believe that. Not when it was no longer true.
“That was before I knew what it was like to have you with me.” I held her gaze, praying she understood this wasn’t casual. Not for me. Not anymore.
“You keep dropping things on me. First a text about mysterious file colors, now me staying with you? Which bomb do you want me to react to first?”
“The one about you staying. It’s the only one that matters.”
“I’ve mostly lived on the upper floors,” she pointed out. “I think you’d feel differently if we were in each other’s space all the time. You like your privacy.”
My jaw tightened. I forced a breath into my lungs, making my chest expand against the fear that tried to lock the words inside.
“I do. But I also like running water. And I think you’ve become a little like that.”
My admission danced in the air between us.
The flicker of answering fear in her eyes was unmistakable, a tiny crack in her composure. She snorted. “Ready to drown you if you make a wrong move?”
“No,” I chided softly, letting affection color my voice. “While I could probably live without running water, why would I want to? Life is so much better with it. Life is better with you.”
She parked in front of the house. I tangled my fingers with hers, drawing them to my lips. Grazing her knuckles with a gentle kiss. Her gaze followed the gesture, zeroing in on my lips. Making me want to kiss her, not just her hand.
“My life is better with you in it, Violet Fenwick. Any way you’ll have me.”
“You mean that, Lee?” The tremor in her voice slayed me. Like she couldn’t quite believe.
I nodded, willing her to understand just how much truth there was behind every word. “We can take things at your speed, Cupcake. I know what I want, but if you need time, I’ll give it to you.”
She smirked, just a brief twist of her lips, but it still brought a smile to my face. “So magnanimous, Murphy.”
I lifted my shoulder. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy.”
Her eyes darkened, sending an answering tightness to my groin as I recalled the delights that came from being so generous. Her earthy taste on my tongue. Her breathy cries filling the air. Vi was easy to lavish with my attention.
She looked torn, and I held my breath. Would she agree to stay?