Chapter 1 #2
Paige didn’t know it was possible to simultaneously feel anger toward one person, sympathy for another, and an overwhelming sense of loss for herself.
The emotions roiling around inside swirled like a tornado in her stomach.
The knot growing there expanded to epic proportions. Had Phillip really cheated on her?
No, he used me to cheat on his fiancée. The man was engaged to another woman this whole time!
How had she not seen through his lies? Was she really that naive?
Heat flooded Paige's face as she realized the couples at two nearby tables stared at her, their expressions a mixture of condemnation and empathy. Her body grew hot all over as humiliation swept over her.
"I'm sorry." Sympathy covered Avery's face.
"I'm sure this is quite a shock to you. It certainly was to me last night when I read Phillip's texts.
" Her chin lifted. "I hated you immediately for trying to steal my fiancé, but I read far enough back in his texts to know Phillip is far from innocent.
" Her gaze dropped to her lap where she fiddled with her purse strap.
Then her head popped up. "I…I need to know if you've slept with him. "
"What?" Paige's head jerked back again. "No, of course not."
Although Phillip had been pressuring her lately for an intimate relationship. Thankfully, he backed off each time she said no.
"I don't want to forgive him or hurt you, but I have more than just myself to think about." Tears filled Avery's eyes again.
"What do you mean?" Icy dread filled Paige. The boulder that had taken up residence in her abdomen made her want to vomit. How could the woman even consider forgiving Phillip?
Avery pulled a series of ultrasound pictures from her purse and slid them across the table.
She's pregnant?
Paige quickly spotted Avery's name and the date near the corner of the top image. They were dated three days ago. A staggering pain pierced her chest as her heart split wide open, leaving her gasping for air. All the hopes and dreams she’d built up over the months of starting a family with Phillip vanished.
"This doesn't prove Phillip is the f-father." Her voice was weak as she made a final desperate attempt to tell the redhead she was wrong.
She no longer wanted anything to do with Phillip, but the soul-crushing disappointment that the man she thought she'd be planning a future with was nothing more than a lying cheat hurt more than anything she'd ever experienced.
"You're right." Avery pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the screen a few times.
"This is the two of us at the doctor's office earlier this week.
" She turned her phone screen so Paige could see a selfie that could only have been taken by the blond-haired, hazel-eyed man she was in love with.
He crouched next to Avery, who lay on an exam table, stomach exposed.
An ultrasound machine stood in the background.
"He knows you're p-pregnant?" She blinked back the tears that screamed for release.
"Yes, and we finally set a wedding date for April second." Avery’s smile looked anything but happy. "I didn't want to have a huge belly in my wedding photos." She gave a small shrug as she pressed her hand to her flat stomach. "We were going make wedding plans over dinner later tonight."
Later.
Of course, Phillip doesn't have a late meeting on Valentine’s Day. And he's getting married in six weeks.
What else had he lied about?
Did he lie every time he told me he loved me? That he couldn’t imagine his future without me in it.
A collision of some sort behind Paige caused plates to clatter to the floor. She jerked, shooting to her feet. A sudden dizziness hit her as her brain scrambled to process what she’d just learned and searched for an escape from this nightmare.
Phillip said he had something important to discuss with her tonight. She thought he was going to propose. But he probably planned to break up with her. Or did he intend to continue to string her along while he lived a double life?
The thought sickened her.
She blinked away hot tears and looked at Avery. The woman had been incredibly nice under the circumstances. She could have come in and made a huge scene with ugly accusations, blaming Paige for everything. But she didn’t.
"I'm so sorry. I swear I had no idea Phillip was enga—" Paige’s voice caught. She darted for the door.
Tears blurred her vision, obscuring the surprised and pitying looks from other diners. Thank goodness she didn’t know any of them. By the time she made it out the front door of the now-crowded restaurant, she was in full-on ugly cry mode.
He lied to me. Cheated on me. Made me the other woman. I'm a home wrecker.
She pushed through the small crowd gathered near the entrance and turned left, intent on leaving before Phillip arrived.
"Paige!" Right on cue, his voice came from down the sidewalk.
She looked over her shoulder to see him hurrying toward her, a large bouquet of red roses in his hand. He didn't look like he intended to break up with her. Her gaze darted to the corner where the light had just turned green for traffic. If she waited to cross, he would catch up to her.
Talking to him now while she was so angry and hurting so badly would only cause a scene that would further humiliate and infuriate her. She couldn’t bear to hear more of his lies.
She rounded the corner and darted down the street.
"Paige! Where are you going?"
She needed to get away from him. Fast. With one final look over her shoulder, she darted between two parked cars. She just needed to get to her own car on the other side of the street.
A horn blared.
Tires squealed.
Paige looked up to see a silver crossover bearing down on her. She jerked her arms up in front of her face as if that would somehow protect her from the inevitable.
Pain, sharp and piercing, ricocheted through her left hip and back at the impact. She went down hard, landing on her right shoulder and slamming her head into the pavement.
Through a hazy blur, she registered the sounds of additional tires screeching and more horns honking, mingled with screams, and Phillip yelling her name. Above the cacophony, excruciating pain radiated throughout her body.
Her breaths came in sharp gasps that felt disconnected from her lungs. Phillip's handsome face dropped into her line of sight as her vision rapidly dimmed, plunging her into darkness.
The door to Summit Physical Therapy opened as Gabe finished rubbing Evan Miller's low back. He hurried over to hold the door for Gladys Fuller, the seventy-five-year-old woman who still used a walker three weeks after knee replacement surgery.
"Ah, thank you, Gabe."
"How are you today, young lady?"
"Terrible, but I made it here for my bi-weekly torture, so I must be alive and kicking still." She waved to the assistants and Dr. Stoker, Gabe’s mentor and colleague, as she passed.
"How's the knee feeling?" Gabe followed her as she continued her shuffle to the far side of the room.
"Sore and achy. It kept me up most of the night."
He helped Gladys up onto one of the five tables that lined the south wall. "Let's see how straight you can get your knee this afternoon."
He noted the grimace on Gladys’ face as she did her best to straighten her leg. The effort was paltry with less range of motion than earlier this week.
"Looks like it's tight today."
"Yes, and so sore." She rubbed her thigh.
"I'm sure the car ride here gave it plenty of time to stiffen up. Let's start by heating it. Then we'll get you moving."
Gladys' daughter drove her from the small town of Providence to the Tri-Cities twice a week for physical therapy on her knee.
The elderly woman would make a full recovery if she kept her appointments and did her exercises, unlike some of their patients from Providence who weren't willing to make the forty-five-minute drive week after week.
Gabe continued to visit with Gladys and other patients throughout the afternoon while he stretched strained muscles and worked out painful knots. The place was always busy, and he loved it.
Shortly before five, he worked with another resident of Providence—a young man with a torn rotator cuff who was the quarterback of the high school football team—when a tall, distinguished gentleman in business attire walked through the door and paused at the receptionist's desk.
Dr. Stoker stood and crossed the room to greet the man. "James, it's good to see you."
"How are you, Paul?" James shook Dr. Stoker’s outstretched hand.
Dr. Stoker insisted everyone call him Paul, but Gabe respected the man too much to address him in such a casual manner.
"What brings you to our neck of the woods?" Dr. Stoker asked.
"I have something I'd like to discuss with you. Do you have a few minutes?"
"Sure." Dr. Stoker motioned him to the back of the gym.
James' gaze landed on Travis as they passed. He stopped. "Hey Travis, how's that shoulder coming?"
"Slow." Travis’ bored expression said he'd rather be anywhere but here.
"That's to be expected. You do what the therapists tell you and you'll be leading us to another state championship next year.
" James patted Travis' good shoulder before following Dr. Stoker to the small office the therapists rarely used.
They preferred to spend their time on the gym floor with their patients.
Gabe's gaze followed them, his curiosity piqued. He turned back to Travis. "I assume that's Dr. James Young from Providence?" There were only a couple family practitioners in Providence and no specialists that Gabe was aware of.
"Yeah. He's cool, I guess."
"You guess?"
Travis shrugged. "You know, for an old dude."
"Old?" Gabe gaped at Travis. Because of his silver temples, he figured Dr. Young was in his early sixties, but he hardly looked old.
Gabe didn't dare ask Travis how old he thought he was. If the kid thought Dr. Young looked old, he’d call Gabe, who was only thirty, middle aged.