Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 312

#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…

at myself, sick, again,

she has what she wants in her life. But sometimes she’s just so….perfect. That it makes me realize how unhappy I am,

I pick it up the first thing I see is one of those relationships I’m trying to avoid leaving me an assortment of messages. I sigh and click open

– how did the baptism go? Dinner

Cora? You

2

send me a text when you get up – I know you were up all night but I’m

heard from

I swipe the messages away and click through the rest of

nothing at all from Roger. Not a peep. As I take a deep breath and check my email, another message from Hank pops

is a little pathetic,

your apartment door…

twinges a little bit when I see that. Hank. He’s being so sweet and I’m…well, I’m not being

passed between us last night, it doesn’t

with me? Quickly, I jump out of my bed and dash for the front door of my

I get to it, I

large bag of Chinese on the little mail table I

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

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

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

lips turning up a bit

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 ailments from humans

closely as he tells me his story, my eyes flicking

that makes me…well,

he asks, making me blink and focus on him.

ask, shaking myself and forcing myself to listen to his words. Then, I grimace a little. I’m sorry, Hank,” I say, giving

grab my hand, squeezing it a bit before

morsel. “But she doesn’t have any medical

”

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