Page 117 of Hate to Love You

The harsh smell of bleach is overwhelming, like I’m taking a bath in it. The smell is a clear indicator that I’m in the Hospital…or the morgue.

Hospitals always smell like the dead.

My eyelids are gritty, feeling as if they are glued down.

I will myself to blink, and am instantly overwhelmed by the bright lights above me. I pinch my eyes closed before trying again, forcing them to adjust, as I slowly look around.

The room is gloomy, and so very white, with only a pale blue accent on the walls. The bedding beneath me is scratchy and irritates my skin.

The more I move, the more the pain is noticeable. My face feels tight, every breath I take burning in my throat, making me whimper.

I’m powerless.

But this is my fault. It's always my fault.

“Oh, Mrs. Adams, you're awake!” A man says, bending to collect my medical chart. “I’m Dr Downing. How are you feeling?”

My mouth opens but no words come out. The doctor continues speaking to me, as my world starts spinning.

What the hell happened?

But I know the answer: Garrett Adams pushed me down the fucking stairs.

Why do I let him do this to me?

I don’t deserve this…do I?

That’s when I hear him say the only thing I truly care about.

“...Unfortunately, Mrs. Adams, we couldn’t save the pregnancy.”

Jumping back into the car, I lean forward, handing Trevor his panini. His eyes widen as he stares at me through the rearview mirror, but makes no move to take it, so I shake it slightly in front of him.

“Take the panini,” I say firmly.

His eyes find mine again, and I can see how tired this poor man is. As we drove across the city, I’d caught him shaking his head, and sitting up straighter in his seat, desperately trying to stay awake.

“I can’t…” He trails off.

But even from the backseat I can hear his stomach rumbling.

“Just take it.”

Finally, he relents, and reaches for it, grabbing it from my hand. The moment he turns back to the wheel, I casually slip the small espresso into the cupholder next to him.

“That’s for you too.”

“Miss Wayne—”

“They got my order wrong, and I didn’t want it to go to waste. So, it’s yours now.”

I can’t be sure, but I almost see the faintest trace of relief flash behind his eyes as he slowly reaches for the cup.

“Oh, and I’m eating this before I go into the office,” I grumble, changing the topic before taking a bite of the delicious panini. “If I go in there without carbs, I can’t be held responsible for my actions against the bitches in there.”

Trevor laughs, before tearing into his, grumbling as a piece of cheese drips down onto his shirt.

A giggle escapes me as I watch him struggle to clean the stain, and before I know it, we are both laughing. However, it comes crashing down around us as Cal knocks on the window, a scowl on his face as he looks at Trevor,