her that her children were not only losing their father but that their mother was a victim of more than their father’s verbal deception?
“Come by my office when you’re done.”
Sheridan was sure all she’d want to do was crawl into her bed. But she said, “Okay,” and clicked off the phone. She took a deep breath before she stepped from her car.
Pushing back her shoulders, she strolled toward the medical building as if she weren’t terrified. She marched to the receptionist’s desk as if a cloak of confidence were wrapped around her.
The receptionist was on the telephone, and she smiled, her eyes asking Sheridan if she could please wait. Sheridan smiled back as if she had nothing but time.
But inside, Sheridan’s heart wept. Lord, please hear my cry. This is in your hands. You know what I need. You know what my children need. I worship you, I praise you, I thank you for your favor and I pray for your blessings…
“Good morning, Mrs. Hart,” the receptionist said, stopping her prayer. “You’re a bit early, right?”
Sheridan nodded, because she couldn’t speak.
“That’s okay. You’re blessed today.”
“What?” She spoke louder than she expected. But she had just prayed for blessings.
“Dr. Hong’s first appointment canceled, so I’ll be able to get you in and out.”
Sheridan nodded again. This was a blessing because that was exactly what she wanted. To get in. To get out. To get this over with.
Chapter Seven
H eaven wept.
The rain poured from the sky in thick sheets that blocked any view of Washington Boulevard from Kamora’s Marina del Rey office suite. It had been pouring from the moment Sheridan left the doctor’s office and slipped inside her car. The sudden storm caught everyone in the city by surprise—everyone except for Sheridan. She knew these were God’s tears for her.
The downpour had made Sheridan call Kamora. “It’s raining,” she had moaned. “I want to go home.” And back to bed.
But her friend would not be denied. “You owe me, Sheridan. I’ve been worried about you for days.”
Sheridan begrudgingly gave in, knowing Kamora would not give up. Once she arrived, she’d been led into Kamora’s office by her assistant with the explanation that Kamora was in a meeting.
Sheridan didn’t think it was possible, but the rain poured from heaven harder. And the deluge of the sky’s water took her back to another place, another time—the day seventeen years ago.
It was a day like today. A day when everyone who relished the L.A. life scratched their heads and said, “It never rains in Southern California.” But on the day that she and Quentin had chosen to legally promise to love each other until the end of time, the sky had opened and released its water with such fury, Sheridan was sure God was telling her something.
She could imagine God’s words, not unlike the ones her mother and father and brother had uttered. It had been a battle from the moment she and Quentin had announced their intention to marry.
“You’re too young,” her father had protested. “You should at least wait until you graduate from college.”
“And why do you want to get married at the end of this month? Why are you rushing it?” was her mother’s contribution to the heated argument. “This doesn’t make sense.”
Neither had voiced what she was sure they both wondered. But while her parents maintained their decorum, her brother had not.
“You’re getting married?” her eighteen-year-old brother had asked incredulously. “Why? Are you pregnant?”
The rolling of her eyes was her only answer, but she’d wanted to shout to everyone that she hadn’t done a darn thing to get pregnant, although that had not been her will. It had been God’s…and Quentin’s.
“We should wait until we’re married,” Quentin had said the very first time their passion took them to the brink. “That’s God’s plan.”
God and His plan occupied no part of Sheridan’s mind when