Without answering her, he opened the door. “Mom.”

“Mom?” he heard Love say behind him.

Gloria breezed into the condo like she owned the place. “Drake, you’re here. Be a doll and grab my luggage. Lovely, I’ve been calling you.”

“Mom, what are you doing here?” she asked.

Drake dragged the three heavy suitcases forward. “Are you moving in or something?” He met Love’s mortified gaze.

“Silly,” Gloria said with a grin. “No. I just wanted to spend more time with my daughter. I’ve finally decided to get that second opinion from a U of M doctor, like you’ve been suggesting. Plus, we have to get started on the wedding festivities.”

The color drained from Love’s face, and Drake walked over to her. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

She placed a hand over her heart and shook her head.

“Wait! Oh no,” Gloria said with a gasp.

Drake looked at her. “What?” He followed Gloria’s gaze toward the couch, then Love, then him, and realized she was connecting all the dots.

“Oh my,” Gloria said, clasping her hand over her heart. “I’m sorry. I interrupted something.”

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Love glanced back at the couch and her eyes widened. “Mom—”

“It’s cool, Lovely. You are newlyweds. I guess I should have booked a hotel room. It’s just that usually I stay with you, and I was looking forward to bonding time.”

“Mom, you know I don’t have a problem with you staying here. It’s just—”

“Oh good,” Gloria said. “I’ll just use the downstairs bedroom. You won’t even know I’m here. I promise.”

She pulled her cell phone out and placed a call. Drake and Love stood speechless as she connected with an old friend, made plans for dinner and gushed about her now married daughter. When Gloria clicked off, she yawned and announced she was going to take a nap because she hadn’t been able to sleep on the red-eye.

It wasn’t until they heard the slam of the downstairs bedroom door that Love said, “We’re screwed.”

Nodding, Drake said, “I know.”

CHAPTER 10

The hospital elevator door opened and Love zoomed out and down the hall toward the lounge. She had to think. She was still married to Drake, and they hadn’t even hired an attorney yet, hadn’t talked about getting an annulment or divorce since they’d returned from Las Vegas. And her mother was there, staying with her—and Drake.

It had been a week since Gloria had shown up on her doorstep. Drake had moved in temporarily, to keep up appearances. Every night they’d retreated to bed together. Every morning Drake woke up, showered and dressed, leaving before the crack of dawn. Yes, they slept in the same room, but Drake had insisted on sleeping on the floor. She suspected he hadn’t done much sleeping, but she hadn’t called him on it. Things had gone quiet between them. A week before, he’d made her climax so many times the memories made her quiver with yearning. Yet they still hadn’t resolved anything.

Love had kept busy carting her mother around during her off time. They’d already seen several specialists, and the diagnosis had been confirmed. It was peripheral artery disease, or PAD. Oftentimes, patients with PAD confuse their symptoms with neuropathy or something else entirely. As a result, it’s often undiagnosed. In her mother’s case, Gloria thought she was just “getting old” and failed to tell her doctors all of her symptoms.

They’d worked with a nutritionist on a diet plan that Love hoped would help control Gloria’s diabetes. Next, they were set to see a surgeon to discuss the amputation recommendation that Gloria’s Nevada doctor had given. The thought of her mother losing a foot and a leg made Love sick to her stomach, and she was willing to do anything possible to prevent it.

“Love?”

She froze, turning slowly. Derrick stood there smiling at her, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “What are you doing here?” she asked him.

He held the flowers out to her. “Peace offering?”

Love scanned the area, noting the interested glances from the nurses and other staff on the floor. The news of her marriage to Drake hadn’t hit the hospital ticker yet, but she’d made it a practice of not bringing her personal life into the job. Every second of the day, a staff member was involved in some mess at their workplace. The hospital really was a den of scandal, fodder for the next television medical drama.

Derrick was dressed in a slim-fit blue suit with a mini check pattern. He wore his clothes well, spending thousands on tailoring and ties. His slate watch and his bald head gleamed under the hospital lights. As he approached her, she instinctively backed up a step, needing to keep some distance between them.




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