Authentic Storytelling, Great Writing Tips & Spring's Eternal Song: My Interview With Romance Author, Katie MettnerMarch 24, 2018
He stopped my hands and forced me to make eye contact. “They don’t know, do they?”
I gave my head barely a shake and focused my attention back on my shoes, taking them off and slipping them under the coffee table. I wasn’t going anywhere tonight. I barely had the energy to go to bed. “No one knows at work.”
He rubbed my shoulders to relax me again. “Why haven’t you told them? I would think the medical community would be the most likely to understand these types of abilities.”
“You would think wrong, then,” I said, standing abruptly and hightailing it to the kitchen. I yanked opened the fridge and dug out a soda, intent to take a long drink of it, but he spun me around before I got it open. He backed me up against the counter and trapped me there with his long arms.
“Sarcasm isn’t helpful, Spring. Educate, don’t infuriate,” he said.
I shoved him away and ducked under his arm. “Don’t treat me like one of your students, Professor Roundtree,” I snapped. “I don’t need a lecture in your teacher voice about anything tonight, or ever, for that matter. When you walk in my shoes, then you can tell me how to live my life! Now, I’m going to bed, you can show yourself out.”
I spun on my heel and ran to my bedroom, slammed the door behind me, and twisted the lock over. I stomped to the bathroom and cranked the shower handles around. When the water was hot I stepped in and let it run over me while I cried wracking, painful sobs of anger, hurt, and frustration. The dead kids, Ms. Davis, and Mallory were hard enough to deal with, but his disregard of all of them was the hardest for me to bear.
I woke slowly, my eyes grainy from crying and still tired, but Oliver clearly had other ideas. I put my feet on the floor and gazed at the clock. It was after nine already and I remembered the night before, and my anger at Vince. There was pounding on the door and for a moment I contemplated not answering it. What if Vince had a break and decided to come over? How would I face him after last night?
After my shower, I fell asleep wet on my bed and woke up a few hours later, cold, and alone. Only then did I venture out to the living room and found he had left, but not before he left a note that simply said. I’m sorry. If I wasn’t already feeling crappy about my outburst, his note sealed the deal and made me cry all over again.
I got to the door in time to whip it open as the person jogged down the three steps to the sidewalk. “I’m here,” I said, out of breath.
The young kid returned to the stoop and checked the card on the vase of flowers. “Spring Lewis?” he asked, and I nodded. He thrust the vase into my hands, told me to have a good day, and beat it out of my yard.
I closed the door with my foot and inhaled the sweet scent of the spring flowers in the vase. There was a card attached to it with my name on it. I probably didn’t have to read the card to know who they were from. I set them down on the counter and made a pot of coffee, waiting for it to brew while I stared at the flowers. As if my guilt wasn’t steep enough, now I had flowers to face. I lifted the card from the bouquet and opened it, reading it to Oliver.
“Spring, let me take you to dinner. I promise not to say anything stupid. If you don’t want to go, text me. If you do, I’ll pick you up at seven. I hope I don’t hear from you. Vince.”
I groaned and laid the card down on the counter, setting the flowers in the middle of the table. They made the room feel sunny and bright, something the gloomy outdoors didn’t do. In a way, you could say my life is the opposite. Sunny and bright on the outside, but gloomy on the inside.
I poured a cup of coffee and sipped it, one arm across my chest. I want to go to dinner with him, but by not texting him and just letting him pick me up, it keeps him feeling like it was his fault for the rest of the day. By not hearing from me he feels like he needs to atone for something he didn’t do. I finished the mug of coffee and set the cup in the sink. I had a few things to take care of, which meant I better get going if I was going to make things right before seven p.m.
FIND OUT MORE ABOUT KATIE BELOW:
Katie Mettner writes from a little house in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. She's the author of more than thirty romance novels, all featuring a disabled hero or heroine. Most of her series are set in the Midwest and are a mix of new adult and romantic suspense.
Katie lives with her soulmate, whom she met online at Thanksgiving and married the following April. Together they share their lives with their three children and one very special leopard gecko named Gibbs. Katie has a slight addiction to Twitter and blogging, with a lessening aversion to Pinterest now that she quit trying to make the things she pinned.
You can follow my favorite dog and food pictures on Instagram
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