58
LYNNE
When I woke the next morning, I was ravenously hungry. Connor was still asleep. Not wanting to disturb him, I said a silent prayer of thanks that I was not vomiting and went downstairs in search of food.
First, I checked out the large, restaurant-style refrigerator. It was filled with fresh milk, orange juice, fruits and vegetables, lean meats, fish and poultry. There was freshly baked bread in a warmer. The cupboards contained assorted herbal teas, oatmeal and whole-grain cereals.
“Lynne!” Connor called to me from upstairs.
“Down here—in the kitchen,” I called back to him.
I could hear him running down the stairs. He gave a heavy sigh of relief when he saw me. “I woke and you weren’t there,” he said, embracing me from behind.
“I got hungry.”
“No vomiting this morning?”
“
