Furious Jeffrey Higgins (english love story books TXT) 📖

The weather looked perfect outside. The monsoon had to be far from Bali.

“I thought you said monsoon season was over,” I said.

 “The northeast monsoons peak between June and September and die out in the fall. They’re supposed to be finished by now, and the southwest monsoons don’t begin until mid-May.

“So, we won’t hit one?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“I’d feel better if you were more certain,” I said.

“The Bay of Bengal gets them, but the wind will diminish as we get closer to the equator.”

“Could we take the southern route instead?”

“The winds are slower there, and we would have to sail south of the equator to use the westbound equatorial current. I’d prefer to use the northeast winds.”

“What do we do?” I asked.

“There’s nothing we can do. Let’s stay an extra day and let the monsoon pass. We can leave the day after tomorrow.”

The thought of sitting in the hotel, like some honeymooning couple, made me sick. I ran my hands through my hair.

“We have to sit here and wait?” I asked.

“Bali is an international tourist destination. Let’s hike through the jungle or visit a temple.”

I should be grieving.

I touched my abdomen, remembering Emma growing inside me. I could still feel her suckling at my breast, the way an amputee feels the tingle of a lost limb. Whenever I thought about her, my depression took on a life of its own, tugging behind my eyes, pulling on my body, as if I had weights attached to my limbs. Emma’s life had been short, but I had bonded with her while she grew in my womb. Maybe hormones had driven our connection—a chemical compulsion to ensure I cared for my infant—or maybe it came from something greater, something ethereal, something metaphysical. I did not know how long I should suffer, but I could not see the end.

“You explore the island and I’ll stay in the room.”

“You need to take advantage of our extra day here.”

“Please don’t tell me what I need to do. I agreed to follow you halfway around the world. Isn’t that enough?”

Brad scowled, like a child I had punished. He rolled over and turned his back to me.

I glared at the back of his head and could almost hear his synapses raging. Brad had grown accustomed to getting what he wanted. His wealthy parents had spoiled him as a child and their behavior had not changed. Brad had spent his childhood in private schools, taking vacations in Europe, receiving nothing but the best. He came from a blue-blooded family and acted like it. He was handsome, rich, and confident. I may have been the first woman to refuse him.

I powered up my MacBook Air and checked my email. The first message was from Eric, and my mood brightened. Eric had become a close friend during my two years at Boston Pediatric Surgical Center, and he cared about me. He exhibited a sharp intellect, keen judgment, and empathy with his young patients. The entire staff respected him, and I felt honored when he consulted me.

Eric always listened when I spoke, but we were only friends and colleagues, nothing more. I had just started dating Brad when I met Eric and while I had found him attractive, I could never date more than one person at a time. Eric never expressed romantic interest in me, but I believed he harbored more than platonic feelings. That was before the surprise pregnancy, before the hasty marriage, before my life crumbled. After my wedding, Eric had congratulated me, saying he had waited too long to ask me out. That kind of comment would have been inappropriate, but he had laughed when he said it, and we were comfortable teasing each other, so I had shrugged it off. I had married Brad, and that was that.

I read his email.

Hi Dagny. Everyone here misses you. I hope your voyage gives you the time and distance you need to regroup and gather your strength. Don’t expect miracles. These things take time, so don’t rush yourself, but I hope you return to complete your fellowship after your trip. You’re a bright, rising star, and the children need you. We all do. If you want to talk, email or call anytime. Give my regards to Brad. - Eric.

The email was sympathetic and kind. I had worried what people at the hospital thought about my lengthy absence. Did they judge me for not returning to work? Did they think I had lost my mind? Knowing Eric stood behind me gave me confidence, and I enjoyed interacting with someone who considered my feelings—without the competition, without the impatience.

I shut my laptop and eyed Brad, who tapped away on his laptop.

“What are you working on?” I asked.

Brad look up startled, like he had forgotten I was there. He slammed his laptop shut. “Nothing. Checking the weather again.”

“I’m trusting you,” I said.

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“I’m talking about the trip. I agreed to come, to put myself in your hands, because I want to get through this. I want us to get through this.”

“Me too. Let’s get some rest. We will need it.” He rolled over and went to sleep.

I stared at him for a long time before I shut off the light.

CHAPTER SIX

The sun streamed through a part in the curtains, assaulting my dry, irritated eyes—sore from crying through the night. On the verge of sleep, my mind had conjured the image of my baby and I had thought about the life Emma would never live. That was all it had taken for me to breakdown. I had fallen apart and sobbed until my stomach hurt, burying my face in my pillow to avoid waking Brad. I had slept less than two hours.

The hotel room door opened, and Brad walked in carrying coffees. Caffeine had become medicine for me. Caffeine and Xanax. I could not function without them, or at least I did not dare to try.

“Good morning, Dags,” Brad said, setting my coffee on the nightstand.

“Morning.”

“I know you had a