♡AN ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS ROMANCE♡
Attending the same college is the only thing Sebastian Hutches and Tara Van Doren have in common.
To Sebastian, Tara is a rich, spoiled girl, obsessed with her looks and status.
To Tara, Sebastian is a rude, arrogant...
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Today's session with doctor Jennings feels special. Not only because it's my birthday but also because of everything I needed to tell him.
"I have one more question," I say once he's finished taking notes.
He takes off his glasses and rests them next to the keyboard on his desk. "Sure."
"Have there been any advances in pontine glioma treatment?"
Dr. Jennings gives his notepad a light tap with his Montblanc pen. "Not enough to improve the outcome of the disease."
"What about the trials?"
"It all depends on the case, and my colleagues probably know more, but I don't remember reading about any significant progress."
"I see."
"One day." Dr. Jennings sighs. "Let's hope it happens while we're still here. But as your therapist, I forbid you to have sad thoughts today. Are you going to celebrate? Because you should."
I grab my jacket from the arm of the couch. "I'm going to the group home, and Kenny wants to do something in the evening."
Dr. Jennings slides his glasses back on and gives me a curious look. "The Hill Cottage, right? Since you've mentioned it, I have a question for you."
"Of course."
"I want to foster a child, but I have no clue where to start. In all honesty, I haven't looked into it yet, but I assume I'd meet the requirements."
"This is the best birthday gift anyone could've given me." I clap. "I'll give you Mary's number, okay? She'll explain the procedure to you."
"Please do," he says, his smile swinging free. "And once again, Happy Birthday."
I feel hopeful when I leave the hospital, but hope turns to dread on the drive to the group home. I've been carrying the key to Mom's locker for months, but today I'm finally going to retrieve the things she left in it.
I haven't become brave overnight, but parting ways with my past is crucial for my mental health. I'd rather focus on my future than keep obsessing over the answers I won't get.
Forty minutes later, I park next to the Hill Cottage. The silence that greets me when I step into the familiar entryway tells me Mary and Nora must have taken the kids for a walk.
I dash down the long hallway and halt next to Nora’s office. The door is unlocked, and I tiptoe into the achingly familiar room, clutching the locker key in my clammy hand.
It's like swimming in the cold ocean water — all you need is a leap. Going in little by little will freeze your body and kill the desire to subject yourself to the torture of the low temperatures.
I jam the key in the lock and twist it. A whiff of Mom’s scent hits my face as I throw the locker door open. It's been years, but memories assault me. It's too much, and I reach into the locker blindly. I need to get whatever she left in it and get out of here.
