Learning to Live

Part II: Chapter 28

Ten years later...

"Have a good weekend, Doctor Milton."

I turned to my assistant and smiled. "Thanks, Gemma. You too."

Hiking my bag over my shoulder, I walked out of my clinic. Car honks, street lights and the cold winter wind were a shock to my senses after being inside all day.

My breath fogged in the air. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck and tucked my hands in my coat's pockets. A man almost bumped into me on the busy sidewalk, prompting me to move. I joined the flow of people, both tired and excited for the weekend, and made my way to the nearby underground parking lot.

Someone stepped out of a bakery, letting out a cloud of warm, sweet scent. The yeasty aroma of bread and the smell of sugar and cinnamon rode the air like a magic spell, drawing people closer. I walked right past it.

After more than eight years of going without sugar and processed foods, the cravings no longer made me feel like a drug addict with withdrawal symptoms.

It had been difficult at first, but cancer was a good motivation to take care of my health.

***

My feet throbbed by the time I was in my little studio apartment. Standing almost all day was part of being a vet. Still, I loved my job.

I dragged the box I found next to my door inside and closed the door.

Unwrapping my scarf, I hung it on the coat rack, my coat as well, and took my boots off, setting them in the corner. I sighed. Walking barefoot was a bliss.

I glanced at the box. I hadn't ordered anything. Or had I? I'd just check it later.

I headed straight to the small kitchen to my right. The wooden cabinets creaked as I pulled out a mug and a green tea bag. I turned on the kettle.

My phone rang.

I glared at my bag on the floor. Who dared interrupt my winding down routine? I should just not answer.

After the third ring, FOMO won. With a huff, I rummaged through my bag and fished out my phone. Scott. As usual, my brother had the best timing.

"What?"

"Good to hear from you too, little sis," he said.

I rolled my eyes and strolled past my couch and bed to the floor to ceiling window. The kitchen spotlights reflected off the glass, shadowing my figure against the backdrop of the city below.

"What is it?"

"We had a plan, remember?" Scott said.

I frowned. "What plan?"

"The charity gala," Scott said. He ignored my groan. "You're supposed to be my plus one."

"Scott, I really don't think you're that desperate to take your own sister as your plus one," I said.

As mind boggling as it was to me as his sister, women threw themselves at my brother left and right. It helped that he was a rich, young NFL athlete, who was also 'drop-dead gorgeous', according to my assistant, Gemma.

The kettle whistled. "See, that's the issue. I have too many prospects," he said. I could almost see the grin on his face. "So to not break any hearts, taking my sister is the safest option."

I snickered. "Smartass. You'll have to take someone else. I don't have anything to wear."

"Hana was supposed to send you a dress," Scott said.