Page 64 of Sloane

Tuesday morning, I woke up early and pulled out the two teaspoons from the freezer I’d had the foresight to put in the night before. With my head resting on the back of the couch, I placed them over my eyes and willed myself not to cry again, lest they stick to my skin like Flick’s tongue on the flagpole in A Christmas Story.

I wondered if Sloane had made it back to his camp yet, and if I’d hear from him again soon. He’d warned that once he left for his mission, not only would he not be able to write me, but he wouldn’t receive my letters either.

I was still going to write to him daily anyway. It’d give him something to read when he got back and would make me feel connected to him by telling him about my day. Like I was still sharing my life with him in some roundabout way.

Last night, however, I hadn’t written to him. He didn’t need to know I was a wreck.

As I pulled the now-warm spoons from my eyes, I decided to make today a good day, so I’d have something positive to report in my letter.

With, albeit faked, renewed energy, I got ready and headed to work. I purposefully put a spring in my step as I walked through the hospital’s doors.

“Hey, Bonnie! Hey, Lenny!” I cheerfully called to the receptionist at the information desk and the security guard who tried to flirt with her every day.

“Good morning, Ashley!”

“How was your vacation?”

I threw them a broad smile. “It was great!” then headed toward the rehab department.

“Good morning!” I exclaimed when I walked into the office with a bullpen of desks where all the therapy assistants did their paperwork. The therapists had offices along the back wall.

My colleagues offered various forms of greetings in return, and Catherine came out of her office with a smirk.

“Well, I don’t need to ask how it went, I can tell by the smile on your face!”

I touched my cheeks with both my hands and realized I was smiling. When Bonnie had asked me about my vacation, the memories of my time with Sloane had flooded my brain, which must have made me smile. I found I liked that idea.

Colin, one of the physical therapist assistants whose desk was next to mine, spun his chair around to look at me.

“So, tell us about him!”

Everyone in the office came closer. Apparently, word had gotten around why I had taken a few days off. I found I didn’t even care.

“He’s…” I dreamily tried to come up with the best descriptor of what Sloane was like and kept coming back to, “perfect.”

Colin clapped his hands in front of his chest and said, “Tell us more. What did he say when he first saw you?”

“Did you meet his family?” Rory, an occupational therapist asked.

Kelly, another physical therapist assistant chimed in. “What were his friends like?”

I answered their questions in order.

“He, um, actually kissed me before he said anything, and…”

Colin interrupted, exclaiming, “Oh my god! I love it!” He then made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Continue. Did you meet his family?”

“No family, but his friends are all really nice.”

Rory wanted to know, “Did you take any pictures?”

I opened my phone and showed her a selfie we had taken before we went to the bar on Friday.

“Wow. He’s hot,” she said before handing my phone to Colin. “You guys make a cute couple.”

Colin looked at the screen and his eyes grew wide. He looked at me, then back at the screen, then back at me.

“Dayum, girl. If I didn’t love you so much, I might try to steal him from you.”