#Chapter 312 – 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

her so, so much – and I’m so 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

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

Cora – how did the baptism

Cora? You

2

– I know

heard from you.

swipe the messages away and click through the

at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep breath and check my email, another

this is a little pathetic, but I’m outside. Can you let me in?

your apartment door…

He’s being so sweet

holding a space for Roger, one he doesn’t even want – despite what might have passed between us last night, it doesn’t change anything. And there’s a man standing outside

what’s wrong with me? Quickly, I jump out of my bed and dash for the front door of my apartment.

it, I yank it open, hoping

eyes going wide, accidentally dropping the large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I keep outside my door. “Gah!”

bright, too cheerful. “I’m so sorry,” I continue, smiling at him, “I just woke up – we were up all night. It’s – I’m very sorry. I should have texted before I fell

says, giving me his rare, warm smile. “I get it

leaning against my door frame and gesturing towards my

turning up a bit

held down the fort at the little free clinic we both work at, seeing both prospective mothers as well as

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

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

and focus on him. “Did you hear

shaking 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. Can you

my hand, squeezing it a bit before sitting back. “I was just curious if you think Ella

a morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical experience. Would she really be helpful there? I

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