Mine to Have (Southern Wedding #1)(43)

"Good morning, beautiful," he says and his voice sends shivers down my body. I could just picture him standing in front of me. "Did you just get up?"

"I did," I say. "Are you at work?"

"I am, got in here early. I’m between patients," he says, and I wonder if he wears scrubs or not.

"Whatcha wearing?" I ask and he laughs.

"Pants and a shirt," he says and his voice goes low and I hear someone call his name. "I’ll take a picture and send it to you. I have to go, baby," he says softly. "I’ll call you later."

"Okay," I say and hang up the phone, putting it on the counter. "It’s going to be okay for seven days," I tell myself and I wish it was that simple. Truth be told, the next couple of days are a shitshow. I miss his calls most times, and when I call him, he always sounds like he’s asleep. I refuse to admit that he was right four years ago and that long distance is fine.

I’m sitting at my desk four days later when I hear the bell ring, and my stomach flutters when I think it could be him. I mean, I know the probability of it being him is slim, especially since I spoke with him this morning and he was going into surgery. I speed walk to the reception area and see my mom coming in. "Oh, it’s you,” I mumble, trying to hide the disappointment.

"Well, hello to you, too," she says, looking around. "Where is Donna?"

"She is sick today," I say, turning and walking back to my office, almost stomping back like a toddler being told I can’t have a snack before dinner.

"Are you moping?" my mother says from behind me and I look over my shoulder at her.

"I’m not moping, I just thought that you were someone else and you are obviously not that person. So…" I walk over to the couch and sit down.

"And who did you think it was?" she asks, sitting next to me and I look over at her. I take a second to see if she knows anything.

"You never come visit me at work." I put my elbow on the side of the couch and rest my head on my fist. "So this is a surprise."

"I just wanted to see my daughter." She avoids looking at me, and I laugh, knowing for sure now that she has heard something through the grapevine, and chances are she got ten different variations, and I should have known this was coming. I was just freaking crazy trying to get this weekend off that I didn’t even think.

"What are you fishing for, Mom?" I ask, and she gasps, shocked at my question.

"Can’t a mother visit her daughter at work?" She pretends to brush lint from her pants, but I know that there would never be a piece of lint on anything she wears. My mother was a model since she was a little girl, and even though she’s settled to life as a country girl, she still has all the city in her. "So what I heard was that a certain someone was in town." She shrugs her shoulders. "And no one said anything to me about it." She folds her arms over her chest.

"Aha.” I laugh, pointing at her. "You came for information."

She puts her hand to her chest. "I did not." She glares at me. "Why didn’t you tell me?" She points at me. "Why do I have to find out from a stranger that my daughter was out and about with a man?”

I throw my head back and laugh even louder. "Out and about my ass, we went to the bar on Saturday, so whoever you heard from saw us there."

"Maybe." She tilts her head. "That was where people saw you. The question is why didn’t you tell us he was coming to town?"

"I didn’t know," I answer her honestly. "He showed up here on Friday." Her mouth opens, and I know she has so many questions. "Ask the questions, Mom."

"I don’t even know where to begin." She throws her hands up, and I wait for her to gather her thoughts. "You went to his wedding the other week."

"I did." I nod at her. "And he did not get married."

"Well, obviously, he didn’t get married. He came to see you." She rolls her eyes, and she doesn’t even ask me why they didn’t get married. "I’m just shocked, is all."

"To be honest with you.” I take a deep breath. "You aren’t the only one who is shocked."

"It’s been four years," she tells me, and the burning starts in my stomach when I think about it. "And it’s been a hard freaking four years for you."

"It hasn’t been that hard." I try to sugarcoat it.

"Hasn’t been that hard. You’re kidding, right?" She shakes her head. "You were miserable for what? The last four years to be exact."

"I was not miserable. I was just finding my ground." I hold up my hands because I know she is going to argue with me, and I also know she isn’t wrong that I have been miserable for the last four years. Not always miserable but I always felt something missing in my life. "It doesn’t matter right now."

"You’re right, it doesn’t," she agrees with me. "What matters now is that he’s back in your life, I assume."

"That would be a good assumption." I nod at her.

"So now what?" I just look at her. "Now that he’s come here and you’ve"—she beats around the bush—"you’ve spent time with each other." I can’t help but roll my lips and try not to laugh at her.