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…

sick, again, of

life. But sometimes she’s just so….perfect. That it makes me realize how unhappy I am, when I stand next

I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving me an assortment of messages. I sigh and

Cora – how did the baptism

You okay?

2

a text when you get up – I know you were up

from you.

I swipe the messages away and click through the rest of

As I take a deep breath and check my email, another message from Hank pops up.

I mean, this is a little

your apartment door…

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

despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside my door

of my bed and dash

it, I yank

little, his eyes going wide, accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail

woke up – we were up all night. It’s – I’m very sorry.

rare, warm smile. “I get it – you had a busy night.”

you want to come in?” I ask, leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my little apartment. “I am…well, I

bit at the corner. “That

sit on the house, the Chinese 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 the fort at the little free clinic we both work at, seeing both prospective mothers as well as general

I watch Hank closely as he tells me his story, my eyes

stomach as I watch him, something that makes me…well, makes- me want to jump across the

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

hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious if you think Ella would want to be

she’d be dying to be more involved in the clinic,” I respond instantly, looking down at my chicken with broccoli and picking up a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she

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