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Have you ever opened a manuscript after years of hiding it in the closet? I have a few of those. So this month, I pulled the second manuscript in my Lawrence Family Series, Since You've Been Gone--Brian Lawrence, a doctor who thinks he's lost everything there is to lose. With about 3 or 4 scenes to it's name, I think this is one ms that will be fun to rewrite. ...it's rough. Lots of watcheds, noticeds, and stuff. :D Enjoy!
Brian worked tirelessly through the morning. His eyes stung and his teeth felt like they were coated with plaster dust. The ache in his shoulder reminded him of his age--thirty-four. Where had the years gone? ...And why couldn't they have taken this Monday with them?
Brian stood now in the cold, winter morning sun outside the burnt out shell of his clinic. The chill felt good on his skin with the sun warming his face.
Lisa stood and watched him, grateful he had finally taken a break. She had seen him fight for the last three hours to save his life's work. He had opened this clinic just after graduating from medical school. It had been a pipe dream that he had worked long hours to make a reality. The destruction of his clinic was that dream gone up in smoke.
She noticed as she walked over with a cup of coffee that through the fatigue he was still handsome. He had the dark hair of his father and she noticed a speckling of gray just at his temples. His eyes were the sharp hazel color from his mother's eyes. He had a distinguished, angular face that suited his career as a doctor. She knew it sounded silly but she couldn't help thinking he looked like a doctor.
Today there were dark circles under his eyes and a defeated anger in them. She had never seen him look so volatile. She raised the mug in a hesitant offering.
"Thanks." He grumbled without even looking at her and turned to his assistant who called his name.
Lisa bit her lip and watched him walk away--not too tall, strong through his shoulders and powerful legs... and a passion that she remembered in the quietest moments of the morning before waking. She sighed when he lifted another pile of scrap wood over his shoulder and she glimpsed the tattoo riding his left hip.
In the last several weeks, Brian faced one trial after another. He had to be close to some sort of breaking point and prayed that he would find the strength to survive when his world finally obliterated around him.
She’d been through the same after she lost the baby. Her marriage, which had been preceded by a shotgun wedding, had slowly disintegrated around her. She had cried herself to sleep more times than she wanted to remember in those first six months after the baby had died, but she and Brian had become two separate entities, each ignoring the other's pain.
Dissention had ruled their home until the night Brian had almost died, and Lisa had run.
She was a fool then. Was she being a fool now?
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