Perfect Love Story (Love 1)

“I’m fine. It was just a little cut.” I try not to make it bigger than it was.

“A cut that needed ten stitches,” Emma added. “But who’s counting? Excuse me.” She walks out.

“Is Mila okay?” I ask her and then look down. “I know it’s not my place but …”

“It is your place. You put that little girl before your own safety. Thank you.”

“It was nothing, but I did promise her ice cream, so if you could get her some, that would be great,” I say as I walk past her on my crutches. “Good thing I work from home, right?” I smile and walk into the waiting room where the woman Jessica is waiting for me.

“Jessica, I’m assuming?” I take in her disheveled hair, her eyes still wet with tears as she wrings a tissue in her hand. She walks up to me and grabs me in a hug so forcefully, I almost fall back. “Thank you,” she whispers. I just smile at her. “Let’s get you home.”

She drops me off at home where I plop down on the couch and don’t move.

Now, two days later, I’m ready to rip the bandage off. “I think I’m suffering from cabin fever,” I tell Crystal as she walks around the kitchen, packing her lunch and grabbing her things for work.

“Just eight more days,” Crystal sings as she kisses my head and walks out. I flip her the bird as I get up and make my way to the back. I sit in the swing as I watch the ocean and do my work. I’m about to make myself something to eat when I hear a knock on the door.

I get up, grabbing my crutches, and walk to my front door as the knocking continues. “Coming,” I shout. When I get to the door and open it, I see Heidi, Delores, and Mila.

“Hailey,” Mila yells happily as she bounces in. “We brought you presents,” she says happily.

“You did?” I drop the crutches as I get on my knee to give her a hug. “How is my Princess Mila?” I say as I take in her pink cast. “Does it hurt?” She shakes her head while I try to get up and hop on one foot to the table. “Sorry, guys, I’m a klutz with those two metal sticks.”

Delores walks in with her arms filled with bags while Heidi picks up the crutches and carries in a vase filled with tulips.

Mila waits by my side. Grabbing my hand, she looks up at me and smiles. And at that moment, I know I would do anything for this little girl. Her heart is pure even though her father is an asshole. “Let’s go see what all the fuss is about.” I smile at her. She nods and patiently holds my hand while I hop to the kitchen. She hops with me, thinking it’s a fun joke. Her giggles fill the house, making my heart happy. I pull out a chair and plop down in it. Closing my laptop, I put it aside while Mila pulls out the chair next to me.

Delores comes over with a bag. “We thought this might help the recovery time.” She hands me the bag. Mila gets on her knees on her chair and claps her hands together in excitement.

I look over at her. “Do you want to help me open this?” Her face lights up even more as she nods her head, so I push away from the table to give her space to climb into my lap. She grabs the bag and pulls out a box. “What do we have here?” I ask her as she takes in the box in her hand.

“It’s chocolate,” she says as I look down. “We can share it.” She tilts her head and smiles up at me.

I tap her nose with my finger. “You would share my chocolate with me?” I ask, and she nods her head. “You are a great helper. What else is in there?”

She takes out what looks like a spa basket. “Soap.” She just shrugs while I inspected the loofah, bubble bath, bath salts, and a couple of bath bombs.

“That is for after the stitches come out for you to sit and enjoy,” Delores says when I finally look up and see Heidi in the kitchen making coffee for us.

“I will use this as soon as I can,” I tell them while Mila pulls out magazines from the bag. “Oh, my favorite.” I grab the Cosmopolitan and flip through it.

“That’s all; all gone,” Mila says as she pushes the bag to the side. “Now my turn.” She claps her hand as Heidi brings over the small bag. “I buy all this for you,” Mila says as she hands me the bag, and my hand goes to my chest.

“All for me?” I ask her as I open it and take out her gifts to me one at a time. “Crayons, coloring books, a puzzle, oh, and what is this?” I ask as I admire a picture that looks like she drew.