The Sick Wife, Lost Loretta [top 10 motivational books .TXT] 📗

“Do you have a clean dress?” Evie asks.

There is a loud banging noise on the door.

“Yvette?” Gabe calls out. “Are you in there? Where’s Milla?”

“Oh god,” I whisper, unable to believe that he is so close. He is so close… and I look like this. Tears leak from my eyes like a faucet, and I feel utterly pathetic.

“Hold on a fucking minute!” Yvette shouts at her husband. She limps around with her cane, and grabs a hairbrush. She moves over to me and gently, purposefully pulls it through my hair.

I blink. It’s like my dream—with the comb. Except it’s nothing like that at all. She’s helping me. She’s not leaving me to be trapped forever, doomed to an eternity with my soul stuck in a styling utensil. She’s brushing my hair… and it’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. It’s a moment I’ll always remember, more than the fake-ass Sunday brunch.

She has become my hero now.

More than any prince could ever be. Something pings in my memory. I remember that I once cursed at Gabe and defended Evie when she was unwell. She hasn’t forgotten everything good I tried to do. Has she forgiven me for everything bad I did do?

“Here’s some clothing,” Veronica says, bringing over a yellow dress.

“That works.”

The two women work together to lift me and remove my bloody clothing, and put a clean dress and some underwear on me. Evie is not very strong yet, so she nearly drops me—accidentally, I hope. I’m limp like a rag doll. Like a human-sized, unattractive Barbie doll for them to dress up. It’s humiliating and touching at the same time.

“There we go. Much less of a disaster,” Evie says with a nod.

“But still a disaster?” I ask her.

“Of course,” she answers with a scoff. “I’m not a miracle worker. Well, I am, but I would need eyeliner for that.”

“Just don’t let him in,” I say softly. “Please. Just get the police… let them take evidence or whatever. Get me to a hospital. I don’t want to see Gabriel. Why do you want him to see me anyway?”

“I mean, shouldn’t you meet him after all this time?” She rolls her eyes. “You guys texted that you loved each other like three million times in two months. I counted. So… you should probably meet him.”

“I can’t,” I say, turning away. “He told me not to call anymore… not to text. He’s going to want to be there with you, no matter who the father is…”

“Hey,” Yvette says softly. She moves forward to touch my arm. “Milla. It was an ectopic pregnancy. It’s already gone. Gabe is here to see you. He loves you.”

“He chose you.”

“Did he really? Let’s ask him.”

Evie moves to open the door.

“No, no—” I tell her. “No! Evie!”

But then the door swings open, and there he is, and all my fears dissolve. I can only stare, as more tears slide down my already soaked cheeks. It’s the beautiful man from all those video calls.

All the hours we spent together and the feelings we felt come rushing back in an instant.

It’s Gabe. My Gabe.

“You’re here,” I say brokenly. “You’re really here.”

He moves to my side and kneels. “Milla,” he says simply. He stares at me, touching my face.

I can’t believe this is real. My lip quivers. “Gabe,” I whisper.

He presses his forehead against mine, and he’s crying. I’m crying too.

He kneels at my side like a prince in a story. He’s perfect in every way. Except, you know, he’s a huge fucking asshole for disappearing on me. And he put me through hell. I wish he had never let me go. And he probably could have rescued me a lot sooner. But other than that, he’s completely perfect.

“Thank god you’re okay,” he says, running his hands over my face, my hair, my neck, my shoulders. Like I’m made of porcelain and he’s checking for cracks. Checking to see if I’m all in one piece.

“Gabe,” I say again, unable to communicate any better than that. His touch makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.

He hugs me tightly, pressing his face against my collarbone. I want so badly to hug him back, but my arms won’t budge. I can smell his hair. Oh my god, it’s the best thing in the world. I’m crying even harder now. I can’t believe I can smell his hair.

He’s really here. He’s really hugging me. I could die of happiness right now.

“Well, Jesus Christ, this is not how the fairytales go,” Yvette complains. “You can kiss Sleeping Beauty to wake her up, you know?”

We both look at Evie with surprise.

She crosses her arms and turns around to face the wall. “I’m not looking. I’ll give you thirty seconds. I’m setting a timer on my watch. Starting… now. 29. 28. 27…”

“Gabe, kiss me, kiss me,” I say quickly through my tears.

He laughs. “I’m not going to kiss you with a timer running. I need more than thirty seconds.”

“But she gave permission! And it’s only 20 seconds now. Kiss me!” I try to lift my head off the bed, but I still can’t.

“19, 18, 17…”

“It’s not going to break any spell, silly girl. You’ll still be unable to move.”

“Gabe!”

“She’s messing with you,” he explains with a chuckle. He places his hand on the side of my face, and his thumb caresses my cheek. His eyes hold the unspoken promise of many kisses to come. Then he turns to look at his wife’s back. “Evie, stop that. Hasn’t she been enough for today?”

“Fine, fine,” Yvette says, turning around with annoyance. “I was joking, Mills. You can have him for keeps. Don’t act like I’m doing you any favors. He’s terrible in bed anyway, you’ll see.”

“I am not,” Gabe says with a sigh.

“If he likes his women awake, that’s already an improvement for me,” I say weakly.

“He’s a pretty good husband, I’ll rate him a 6/10 on Yelp, satisfactory service,” Yvette says with a nod. “But for real, Gabe. Be better