Free Perfect Stranger (Novella) by Carly Phillips

no idea if her parents had been in love. Or not. She didn’t remember them interacting and her father never spoke about it.
    His scowl deepened. “What’s going on with you? Are you ill?”
    She drew a deep breath. “I’m taking a leave of absence.” She said the words slowly and deliberately, not rushing through them the way she was tempted to do.
    The only way he’d take her seriously was if she sounded firm, didn’t back down, and stood her ground. All things Alan Collins respected. Unless it involved going against his directives or wishes.
    “Okay, now I know you’re sick. What the hell do you mean, you’re taking a leave?” He leaned forward in his seat, talking at her like she was just an employee, not his only child.
    “In the last couple of days, I’ve had time to think about what I want out of life and—” She pulled in a deep breath. “This isn’t it. I don’t want to be a paper pusher for this hospital. I don’t want to follow in your footsteps, I want to create my own path.”
    “You want to create your own path,” he mimicked her. “Don’t tell me. This has to do with that football player,” he said in disgust.
    “You know he plays football?” She said the first thing that came to mind.
    “The nurses couldn’t stop whispering about it. I thought you’d be above that sort of thing. At the very least I thought you’d get that little rebellion out of your system and return to work fully focused.”
    She blew into her hands in an attempt to calm down. “Well, you thought wrong. And that little rebellion you mentioned? It’s been a long time in coming. These past few days may have shown me what it’s like to really live and enjoy life and be happy, but the discontent began long before and has been brewing for years.”
    “Alexa, not many people get the opportunities you’ve had,” her father said, too slowly and patiently, as if he weretalking to a misbehaving child. “Not many people have the avenues available to them that you do.”
    She held up a hand. “Stop right there. I’m grateful for each and every one, but did you ever think that maybe I don’t want the same things you did?”
    “And what is it you think you want?”
    There it was again, that patronizing tone. She knew then he’d never get it, never understand. Her stomach hurt because he was her father, but he wasn’t her daddy. He never had been. “I know that I want to enjoy my job. My days. I’m not naive. Life isn’t always easy or fun, but I want to wake up in the morning knowing that, at the very least, I’m doing something of my choosing. Not yours.”
    His hands bunched in frustration, his knuckles turning white. “That’s not gratitude; that’s disrespect.”
    She cocked her head to the side. “I beg to differ. I did everything you ever asked or wanted. I tried things your way. Now I’m going to try my own.”
    His face turned red, his cheeks flushed, and anger vibrated from him. “I raised you.”
    “Which is what you do when you have children. What you don’t do is direct and manipulate them into being what you want, envision, or need. I love you, Dad. But I have to live my own life.”
    “Are your giving up medicine?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “I just want the time to figure out what kind of medicine I want to be in.” She’d wondered if she should add this, and then decided she’d come so far, might as well go all the way. “I also need to figure out where I want to practice it.” Hospital, private practice, more pro bono work at the youth center. Alexa didn’t know but she wanted to figure it out.
    He cleared his throat. “You might want to reconsider. The world keeps moving. In other words, your job may not be here when you want to come back.”
    Her own father wouldn’t hold her position for her. She hadn’t anticipated that, but she managed to hide the pain of his betrayal. “I’ll take that chance,” she said.
    “Your choice. Now, if you’re finished, I have