Her Loving Man: An Age Gap Second Chances Duet (Our Epic Love Book 4) by Leah Key

Author:Leah Key [Key, Leah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Leah Key
Published: 2020-07-31T00:00:00+00:00

CASSIAN

I was happy for Magdala and Nate, happy that they could overcome their misunderstanding, because that's all it had been really. Nate had killed for her, unintentionally, but nonetheless killed the fucking rapist and Magdala had thankfully come to grasp that it had happened and why he had done it. And I envied the way they fell into each other's arms, feeling the passion, the love, the affection between them. I wasn't just envious, I was fucking incensed with jealousy.

That they were living what I so desperately wanted.

However, there was no time to feel sorry for myself as interviews for my residency programs were starting to roll around and I was flat out busy preparing. Besides the Armani suit there were letters, recommendations, files to collate. Unfortunately my looks and style were not going to be the catalysts to get me into the program I wanted. I had ten interviews scheduled, two out of state, Hawaii and Arizona. A part of me told me to pray that one of those would match with me, take things out of my hands, force me to conform.

Because admittedly my life was a whirlwind of madness and chaos, seemingly out of my control, but totally in my control, if only I would wake up and face the truth.

If only I wanted to wake up.

But I didn't.

Paola's youngest son was ill, a chest infection requiring antibiotics. I could hear the worry in her voice when she phoned me as I lay waiting in the already-booked hotel room. It was a last minute cancellation by her.

"I'm so sorry. I thought the medication would have worked and my mother was all set to babysit, but I can't leave him," she apologized. "I just can't."

"It's okay," I consoled, even though the thought of not seeing her for another seven days was unbearable. I had seen sick children, I'd been with Magdala through Cassidy's illness and I knew it was a mother's worst nightmare to see her child in pain.

"Ash never gets sick," she said, "but his poor little body is just..." She didn't finish the sentence and sounded close to tears.

"Really, it's okay. And he'll be okay." I was suddenly sounding like a doctor. "Make sure he stays hydrated and let him rest. The antibiotics should kick in within the next six hours, but if he doesn't improve call your doctor again."

"Yes doctor," she said primly, but I heard a touch of amusement in her voice.

"I'll miss you," I said, but I shouldn't have. Not when her son was sick. She didn't need to feel guilty. "Let me know if he improves," I said quickly, "and just relax and keep calm. He'll be fine, I promise you." I ended the call, ashamed of myself for bringing my own emotions into the situation. Just wrong.

Ashton recovered after a few days, but she kept him at home for a full week and then the following week I had an interview scheduled in Phoenix. It was my first one, so naturally I was apprehensive and nervous.

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