47
Sara
“What time do you have to be at work?” Peter asks, serving me an artfully arranged plate of vegetable omelet with strips of bacon and a side of pancakes.
I glance up at the clock on the wall. “In about forty minutes.” I’m lucky I woke up when I did, because I completely spaced out on the alarm last night.
I’m probably spacing out on something right now, because even though I’m outwardly calm, on the inside, I’m a hyperventilating mess.
Peter is here.
He’s here, and we’re engaged.
“I’ll walk you to your office,” he says, sitting down across from me with his own plate. “Unless you’re taking the car?”
I cautiously spear a piece of pancake with my fork. “I was planning to go from there straight to the clinic, so yeah…”
He doesn’t blink. “Okay. I’ll ride with you and then go gr
