Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
After speeches from the director of the race and the mayor, Nadia went onto the makeshift stage to accept the key to the city on behalf of Rafe. What the hell was she supposed to do with it? She then declared the road race open. It was like an instant flood of people took to the street to watch their friends and family run, while the racers boarded busses to take them to the starting line.
Kiran helped her off the stage. “Meet me at the finish line?”
“Are you going to run in a suit?” she asked him, eyeing his clothes.
He laughed. “No, I have a bag in the SUV. I’m going to change.”
She nodded. They were close. Nadia was certain Kiran wanted to be more than a friend, or someone she depended on, but she was nowhere near ready for anything, with anyone. She knew Kiran wasn’t dating anyone, despite women trying to get his attention. He went to work daily, texted her in the morning and afternoon, called after dinner, and spent sunup to sundown at her house on the weekends. He was there for them, and she appreciated him more than ever.
“We’ll be there,” she said as she reached out and touched his arm. “Rafe intended to win last year, so . . .” Nadia shuddered. “Make him proud.”
“I’ll see you at the finish line,” he told her. “I’ll be the first one crossing.”
Nadia had no doubt.
TWENTY-TWO
GRAYSON
Grayson sat in a blue plush chair. It was old, with remarkably great cushioning. Yet it was an odd choice for a therapist’s office, although he enjoyed running his fingers along the fabric, feeling the texture change from smooth to rough. He’d done it so many times that it was now an absentminded habit of his, each time he sat there. Grayson had read over and over again that people should seek therapy after undergoing an emergency heart transplant. Even though Grayson was at his one-year mark, he’d kept up with seeing Dr. Littleton because doing so gave him someone to talk to who wasn’t related to him. Dr. Littleton listened, offered advice, and didn’t judge him when he said he felt overwhelmed with emotion sometimes. Grayson was crazy in love with Reid and often felt as if he wasn’t expressing himself properly.
“This is a big week for you,” Dr. Littleton said from the other blue plush chair. Grayson likened it to a throne, fit for royalty, and Grayson was the minion or peasant begging the almighty for guidance and reassurance.
“Do I celebrate?”
“You could, or you could go on like it’s no big deal.”
Grayson shook his head and looked down at his fingers, moving in a pattern-like formation. He tried to stop them, but they continued to swirl and swirl, back and forth.
“What’s wrong, Grayson?”
“Nothing,” he said as an automatic response.
“I’ve known you for a year,” Dr. Littleton said. “I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I didn’t notice something bothering you.”
Grayson sighed, but no relief came. He shook his head, bit his lower lip, and rocked a bit in the chair. “My heart.” He put his fist over his heart and held it there. “It hurts.”
“Did you tell your cardiologist?” Littleton flipped through his notes. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall his name. Did you tell him at your appointment?”
“Yes. He ran some tests, did the proper imaging, and there’s nothing. It’s healthy. I’m healthy. No fear of rejection. But I’m sad and I can’t explain it, and it’s not all of a sudden. The feeling has been there, and I thought it was because the heart needed to get used to me, Reid—you know, my life. The feeling lingers. Sometimes it’s strong and I want to cry for no reason, and other times, it’s this dull sensation.”
“How long have you experienced this?”
“The dullness?” Grayson shrugged. “For a bit, I think. I feel like I only really knew it was there after I woke up crying the other day.”
“From a dream?”
He nodded. “I don’t even know what it was about, but there were other people there, but they were fuzzy, and then I woke up with tears streaming down my face, soaking my pillow.” He was thankful Reid had gotten up early and gone to the gym; he was afraid of what she might have thought or done had she seen this early-morning meltdown.
“Have you felt this any other time?”
“I think so. I have severe moments of sadness. They’re random. It’s like I have a plan but can’t bring myself to do anything. I’m lucky Reid was content to chill for the day, but it was unlike me. I like to be active, be outside, exploring nature. Not sitting in our apartment, cooped up with the blinds closed.”
Dr. Littleton wrote on his yellow notepad. Without looking up, he asked, “How is Reid? How are things with her romantically? Physically?”