Page 104 of Scars We Didn't See

Page List
Font Size:

Right now, the only memories I wanted to make were withhim.

Be brave.

I took a deep breath. “What if I want to go on a real date? Not coffee. Not lunch. A proper romantic dinner date.”

Disbelief flashed across Aiden’s face. Then a big smile. He shook off all the emotions by clearing his throat to finally say, “Then I guess we’re going on a romantic dinner date.”

“Anywhere I want?”

Aiden eyed me warily. “As long as it’s nowhere near the church, we’re going anywhere you want.”

“Oh, darn,” I teased. “And after I promised Yolanda.”

Aiden almost turned green, but he didn’t say no. “What about, uh…” He cleared his throat. “The bar? Or the little winery just outside town?”

I squirmed in my seat. A romantic dinner date. “Tonight? If you’re not too tired?”

“I can’t say no to you, sweet girl. Tonight.” He tapped the rim of his coffee cup. “I might need a couple more of these, but Hollyoak’s stupid horses couldn’t keep me away.”

I threw my arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his shocked face. A grin was on mine. That same grin popped out of nowhere for the rest of the day. Brooke, my patients—everyone noticed. But it seemed like no one was surprised to hear me squeal that I was going on a date with Aiden.

A romantic dinner date!

I hadn’t been on a proper date since… I couldn’t remember when. A lifetime of bad memories had passed, but I wasdetermined to finally put them all behind me. I was looking forward to my future and choosing my own path.

I practically skipped home in the dark from the clinic.

Next door’s curtains didn’t flutter to the side like they usually did when I swung the gate open, but I still waved a quick hello as I raced down the stone path.

I pressed my shoulder against the front door, and with two powerful shoves, the stupid thing finally groaned open. My hand fumbled for the light switch as I slipped my bag off my shoulder, dumping it by the door as I toed off my shoes. One off, my body went still.

Something wasn’t right.

I fumbled again for the light switch. I flipped it on. Nothing.

Down. Up. Down. Still nothing.

Balls.

The ancient bulb must have blown. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. The tiny cottage had seen better days, and I was forever finding things that needed fixing. All good. The back porch light was on, and enough rusty yellow light trickled down the hallway for me not to trip over my own feet.

I arched through the doorway to my bedroom and fumbled for the switch. Up. Down. Up. Nothing. I stepped back into the hallway, my eyes squinting at feet that almost disappeared in the dark. Was the power out? But…then…how was the porch light on?

My head slowly turned.

The kitchen loomed only a few steps away. A cold sweat prickled across my skin, my nerves coiling tighter with every step I padded closer, my mind screaming for me to turn back to the front door.

My eyes frantically bounced from shadow to shadow. The kitchen counters were bare. No pans glistened under the light flickering from the back porch. Where was the mess I’d madeat breakfast? I’d stayed up too late readingThe Count of Monte Cristo. I’d overslept and didn’t have time to do the dishes.

Wait.

Did I?

I pushed up my glasses and pressed my palm into my eyes. Was I losing my marbles? Or was I just that tired? Maybe I should have had one of Aiden’s triple-shot coffees…

I shuffled on wobbly legs the last few steps to the doorway. My hand reached for the light switch. Blood roared in my ears.

No.