Washington Lilacs

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Bonjour, Mon Ange. I went for a run. I'll be back in time to make breakfast. Je t'aime!

Florence read the note and sighed, grumbling about the lack of warmth being emitted from the other side of the bed. She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and dialed her favorite number. It only rang once.

"Hey, love! How did you sleep?" I pant through the phone, out of breath from my run.

"I slept fine. But I would've been much more happy to wake up next to you," she complained cutely.

"Désolé, ma belle. The open road was just calling my name," I joked, turning the corner onto my street. "I'll be home in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, love."

"Oh wait! I'm listening to this song called 'Washington Lilacs' by Zach Bryan. I think you'll like it."

"I'll listen to it right now," Florence grinned, remembering your old tradition. "See you soon."

When I returned to our apartment, I smiled seeing Flo and Syd dancing around the kitchen, gathering things to make pancakes. It had been two months since the incident with Ben, and life had been bliss. Flo had officially moved in, and her and Syd were almost inseparable. Syd's cancer was another story.

"Hey, babe, how'd you sleep?" I greet Syd, picking her up and swinging her around.

"Good! I had a dream that you and Flo got married and we moved to France!"

"Oh my, that's quite the dream," I gasp dramatically.

"Quite the dream, indeed," Flo adds on. She approaches and places a quick kiss on my lips. "Go shower, you smell. I'll cook breakfast."

"How rude. Fine, but don't burn the place down."

"No promises," she shouts as I make my way towards the bathroom.

~

After breakfast, Syd settles on the couch to watch some cartoons while Flo and I clean up, dancing around the kitchen in perfect unison.

"So, I've been thinking," I begin.

"Oh, that's scary."

"Shut up. I'm being serious. What if we moved? To a real house. I love this place, but I'm ready for more. And I want it to be ours. A clean slate, you know?"

"I'd love nothing more, Y/N. But this is something we should take our time with. Are we talking the outskirts of the city or the French countryside?" she asks, referring to Syd's dream.

"I don't know, honestly. I just want to start a life with you." I quickly realize how serious this conversation is, then blush thinking about the ring in my nightstand.

"I'd go anywhere with you, darling."

"And I you, mon amour."

I flip through the mail, tossing the junk and setting aside the bills. One letter catches my eye.

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,
      It has come to our attention that Sydney Fleur Y/L/N may have received less than desirable care as a patient of Dr. Adriel Lancaster. Dr. Lancaster's medical license is under investigation. There is a possibility of a malpractice lawsuit. Please contact us to make an appointment with our legal team.
Best wishes.
The American Board of Medical Specialties

"Holy shit," I whisper to myself.

"What? What is it? Is everything okay?" Florence questions.

"It's- it's- I don't even know! Read it! What the fuck?" I whisper-shout.

After reading it, Flo looks up fuming. "Good. I hope that bastard gets his license revoked and lives in a fucking cardboard box. He should be put in jail for what he did to our daughter. I mean what kind of fucking doctor breezes over extreme neurological symptoms like that? It's fucking ridiculous," she rants.

"Flo," I cut her off. "You just said 'our daughter.'"

"What?"

"Our daughter. You called Syd 'our' daughter."

"Oh. Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to overstep-"

"I could kiss you right now."

"Huh?"

"You've been to hell and back with me and Syd. I'm glad you think of her as your daughter, because she is your daughter. I love you Flo. We're a family."

"I love you too," she whispers as tears well up in her eyes. And once again, I think of that ring in my nightstand drawer.

~

"So basically, we're gonna sue this motherfucker for everything he's got," I explain to Ash over the phone.

"Well as you fucking should. That piece of shit probably got his fucking medical license from a monkey high on crack. Honestly, what kind of-"

"Yeah, I know. Trust me," I mumble.

"Hey, you know none of this is your fault, right?"

"Logically, yes, I know. But it sure as hell doesn't feel that way. I mean, I knew something was wrong yet I still listened to that asshat. That's not very 'motherly instincts' of me."

"We're supposed to trust our doctors. We have to in order for the good ones to save lives. Unfortunately, not all doctors can be as good as Amelia Shepherd, and sometimes things get fucked up. That's not your fault, you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"I wanna hear you say it."

"It's not my fault," I comply reluctantly.

"Good, now I'll see you tomorrow. We need to discuss your plan to propose. We need to woo this bitch."

"Oh, Lord give me strength."

A/N: hey bitches I'm back. Updates might be few and far between, but I will do my best to finish this book out properly. Also I just wanna plug the fact that I was in the top 0.005% of Zach Bryan's listeners😇

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