Accidental Surrogate

Chapter 311: Cora at Home 

Cora

When I wake up it’s almost eight at night and I groan, realizing that my sleep schedule is

completely wrecked. I’m reminded, suddenly, of my years as a medical resident when this sort of thing was normal – sleeping all day, taking night shifts, living moment to moment rather than a steady, scheduled life.

And quite frankly, right now? That sounds really wonderful, compared against a whole night of empty hours in which I have nothing to do but… think.

Think about what I’m doing in my life, think about my career which has gone in a really weird direction, think about my relationship…s.

About a certain kiss in the woods.

About a sweet doctor who, apparently, wants to build a life with me.

I sigh and sit up, looking around at my sterile little apartment. I never really decorated, I realize as

I look around at the grey and beige furniture, the simple linens, the charmless curtains. Everything is functional and high quality but none of it is… me?

Or is it?

I frown at my space, thinking of Ella’s sweet home that – even though Sinclair picked out most of the furniture before she moved in – still sings Ella Ella Ella in every corner. It’s warm and sweet

and comfortable. What does my space say about me?

I mean, I’m an orphan – I never had any possessions or any control over the environments in

which I lived, so where would I have learned to decorate? I never had a mother to show me how

So where did Ella…

eyes at myself, sick, again, of being jealous of my sister.

happy she has what she wants in her life. But sometimes she’s just so….perfect. That it makes me realize how unhappy I am, when I stand next to

kind of distraction from these disquieting- thoughts. But when I pick it up the first thing I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving

Cora – how did the baptism go? Dinner

You okay?

2

– I know you were up all night but I’m

from you.

and click through the rest of my

there’s nothing at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep

mean, this is a little pathetic, but I’m

your apartment door…

see that. Hank. He’s being so sweet and I’m…well, I’m not being

want – despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change

out of my bed and dash for the front door of my

I yank it

accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail table

I say, bright, cheerful – maybe too bright, too cheerful. “I’m so sorry,” I continue, smiling at him, “I just woke up

rare, warm smile. “I

in?” I ask, leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment.

a bit

spread out around us on the coffee table, eating right out of the containers with the supplied chopsticks, Hank tells me all about his day. He held down

was, apparently, a busy day with some tricky cases. I watch Hank closely as he tells me his story, my eyes flicking over his

something that makes me…well, makes- me want to jump across the couch

blink and focus on him. “Did you

myself and forcing myself to listen to his words. Then, I grimace a little. I’m sorry, Hank,” I say, giving him an apologetic look. “I got….lost in my thoughts a little bit. Forgive me.

he responds, giving me a little wink and reaching out to grab my hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back.

up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she really be

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