Oh, this is easy!
In dreams by Kaylle, a wonderful story!
She sat, knees neatly together, back straight, hands clasped tidily in her lap. Her hair was brushed, her make-up done, and she was wearing her nicest jeans and favourite sweater.
He was late. He was never late.
Her gaze darted to the clinic’s swivel doors as they began to turn and another figure, darkened against the sunlight streaming in from outside, came through.
Not him.
She looked away quickly so as not to be caught staring, snatched a glance up at the clock behind the reception desk. Nine minutes. He was nine minutes late.
The woman receptionist smiled across at her. “Not like Clark to be late,” she remarked.
She shook her head in agreement.
“I expect he’s stuck in traffic,” the woman suggested pleasantly. Doris, wasn’t it? Doris worked the early morning shift until eleven, then Anne did the afternoons. Steve took over in the evening and worked the late shift.
After two months of living in the clinic, she knew all the staff. Even the cleaners.
But Doris was wrong. Clark didn’t drive; he flew. Or walked. Doris knew that, really - she was just trying to reassure. Even the ancillary staff played their part in caring for the clinic’s patients.
“Nice sweater,” said Doris. “Is it new?”
She nodded. Clark had bought it for her. She’d mentioned in passing that she didn’t have any warm clothes, and the very next day, he’d brought her the sweater. She’d felt guilty, hadn’t meant to hint that she wanted anything from him, but he’d brushed her worries aside with a smile and told her to try it on. It had fit beautifully, and instantly, it had become a firm favourite.
Simona
