Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

damage was irreparable. “I don’t know. I don’t know that

anything will ever be right again. I feel like nothing can make

up for what I’ve done or for what I’ve lost.” Empathy. Dignity.

Self respect. Who I am.

“I know it looks like that now. I have a number for a grief

counsellor if you’d like to talk to someone.”

“No. But thank you.”

Jennifer studied her dubiously, but the caring expression

never wavered. “Here.” She dug in her scrub’s pocket and

pulled out a small notepad, along with a tiny pen, made to fit

it. She scrawled something and handed Coralyn the page.

There was just a string of numbers there. Coralyn felt enraged

at being ignored and handed the stupid number anyway, but

Jennifer pressed the paper into her hand. “It’s my number.

We’re probably not supposed to do that, but you look like you

could use a friend.”

“We’re strangers,” Coralyn blurted.

“We’re not strangers. We’ve gone through this together. I’m

not going anywhere tonight, and I’ll be on again tomorrow

night. You’re not alone, Coralyn, even if you feel like it. Not

now and not after it happens.”

‘It’ being her dad not being here anymore. ‘It’ being the end

of the world.

Jennifer let her clasp the paper close and think about what

she’d said while she moved to check vitals and fill out the

paperwork that the nurses did so often every single shift. After

that, she left Coralyn alone with her dad.

She tucked the paper into her purse, shoved it under her

chair, then clasped her dad’s hand. She bent over the bed and

bathed it with her tears until she had no more left to cry, at