Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I should call Bellamy. Demand answers. Find out what the hell is going on. But the hospital isn’t far. I’ll be there soon to see for myself. I won’t be able to relax until I lay eyes on her.
Bellamy’s message made it sound like she was awake and okay. I’m very aware that I might be freaking out for nothing, but you can’t tell a man that the woman he loves passed out for no logical reason and expect him not to freak out.
Bursting out of the stadium doors, I sprint across the parking lot, my lungs burning, keys clenched in my fist like a lifeline. My SUV unlocks with a sharp chirp, and I wrench the door open and climb inside. Hastily, I pull on my seat belt as the engine roars to life.
I peel out of the lot, tires squealing against asphalt as I blow past the exit. Every red light feels like an enemy. Every second feels like hours. My hands clamp around the steering wheel so tight, my knuckles ache while fear coils deeper in my chest with every mile.
“Hold on, baby. I’m coming,” I murmur as I turn left into the emergency department parking lot. Luckily, there’s an open spot. I slide my SUV into it before slamming the gearshift into Park, grabbing my keys, and climbing out. I’m running as soon as my feet hit the ground.
I don’t stop until I’m standing in front of the receptionist, my hands braced on the counter, my breath coming in rapid spurts, as I breathe out her name: “Amanda. Holton. Amanda Holton. I need to see her,” I manage to form a complete sentence.
“Are you family?” the receptionist asks.
“Yes.” I swallow hard.
“What is your relationship to the patient?”
“She’s my everything,” I rasp. “Take me to her. Please,” I add, trying to soften the blow of my demand.
“I’m sorry, sir, immediate family only. You can have a—” she starts, but I lean in close and glare at her.
“That woman is my life. That’s closer than immediate family. Her fucking family disowned her because she adopted a beautiful baby girl on her own. Family isn’t blood. It’s right fucking here,” I say, slapping a hand over my chest. “And this is where Amanda and her daughter live inside me. Please, let me see her,” I beg, my voice cracking.
I’m trying to stay calm and not yell because you catch more flies with honey, but my patience is wearing thin.
“Let him back,” another lady sitting at the next window says. “I’ll take him back. If the patient doesn’t look like she wants to see him, I’ll escort him out or call security.”
“She wants to see me.” I nod. “Thank you. Thank you,” I say, my voice betraying me with a crack, unable to hide my emotions.
She moves to the door and hits a button to buzz me through. I waste no time pushing through the doors and following her down the hall. “Ms. Holton, you have a very concerned visitor,” the woman says before pulling back a curtain.
“Will?” Amanda asks. She’s sitting up in a hospital bed, shock written all over her face. “What are you doing here?” she asks.
“Is it okay that he’s here?” the woman who showed me to her room asks.
“Yes, of course,” Amanda answers.
My feet move toward her bedside, and I bend over, pressing my lips to hers. “What happened?” I ask when I pull away.
Amanda’s eyes are wide with shock, and then I hear a throat clear. Turning, I look over my shoulder to see my daughter sitting in a chair off to the corner of the small, curtained area. I wait for the panic to set in, but after the emotional storm I just went through since getting Bellamy’s message earlier, it never comes.
“Dad?”
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“What’s going on?” Bellamy’s face shows her shock at seeing me rushing into the room to kiss her best friend.
“This isn’t how we wanted you to find out,” I say. “Tomorrow. Dinner, we were going to tell you at dinner.”
“Tell me what, exactly?”
Reaching down, I gently take Amanda’s hand in mine. “That we’re seeing each other.”
Bellamy’s mouth falls open as she tries to process what I’m telling her. “Seeing each other?” She glances from me to Amanda and back again. “You’re dating my best friend?” she asks, her voice pitching to a higher octave.
“It’s more than that, but technically speaking, yes. We’re dating.”
“More than that?” Bellamy echoes.
“I’m in love with her.”
Amanda gasps. “What?” she breathes.
I turn my attention to her. “I love you,” I tell her. Bending, I press my lips to her forehead. When I pull back, there are tears glistening in her eyes. “Don’t cry, baby. Are you hurting? Do I need to get a doctor?” I turn toward Bellamy. “Should we get the doctor?”
“I’m okay,” Amanda says softly.