Irreplaceable by Angela Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

What
happened to my sweet best friend who never had a mean bone in her body?”
    With my eyes trained on the television, I answered, “He
broke her.”

    It was just past four when I persuaded
Hilary to leave, and I knew it would be at least another hour or two before
Logan came back with dinner.
    I was finally alone in my own house. All I wanted to do
was crank up the stereo and dance around half naked, but I was stuck on the
couch, drained from pain meds. There was, however, one thing I was dying to do so
badly that I wasn’t going to let anything stop me.
    With a wholehearted grin in place, I wobbled around the
house collecting candles, a lighter, and my cell phone, then stood in the
opening to my small bathroom. The sun was shining brightly through the clouds,
but with one tug of the blinds I was cast in a peaceful aura of darkness. I was
absolutely giddy at the idea of taking a nice, relaxing bath…alone.
    As I eased down onto the linoleum beside the tub, taking
gentle care when I bent forward to plug the drain and run the hot water, I began
lighting the candles that lay scattered around me.
    I positioned them around the room, my limbs growing
heavier with each passing minute as the pain meds began to take full effect.
The scent of lavender filled my nostrils, and with the flow of water filling
the tub, a calmness settled over me.
    Once I slinked out of my clothes, sealed a clear
waterproof bandage over my thigh, and poured some sweet vanilla bubbles into
the tub, I was ready to climb in.
    With a nauseated groan, I nearly bit through my bottom
lip as I maneuvered into the bath, being careful not to slip. I propped my foot
up on the side; even with the bandage covering the stitches, the less water
around it, the better. The last thing I needed was an infection. Once I was
settled and comfortable, I rested my head against the cool porcelain.
    For once, I could just lie back and let the warm water
soothe my sore muscles. There was no rush to clean and go, or a nurse bathing
me with basin of water and sponge, or my mother sitting on the toilet talking
to me as I sat on the handicap chair in the shower.
    I was home, in my bathtub, with no one to interrupt. It
was the one thing I’d been secretly craving since I was released from ICU into
a regular room. I sank further into the billowing bubbles, a smile on my face.
The fact that Logan was a constant in my life the past few days had been taking
its toll. His image assaulted my dreams every sleeping moment. Even if they
were better than the nightmares, he was always there, waiting to torment me
with the feelings for him I couldn’t dispel.
    Logan had charmed his way into my life, into my heart, as
a dear friend. And by taking it to the next level, I lost that. I lost him. I
knew the man he was when it came to women, and I was a fool, like always, to
believe I was the one he’d change for.
    A tear escaped from my eye and slid down my cheek. I
didn’t bother to wipe it away; instead, I allowed it to slide to my chin and
fall into the water around me. With a deep breath, I closed my eyes, hoping to
escape from the pressure of the outside world surrounding me.

    I awoke with a stir, splashing
water around me, jerking up at the realization that I was sinking under the
water. I was still in the tub. The muscles in my leg that had been resting on
the edge were now rigid and sore. I choked back a yelp as I allowed it to fall
into the water, aching from the discomfort it had endured during my little nap.
    Oh crap!
    Blood pounded in my ears, panic setting in as I realized
a bath might not have been the best idea. As I attempted to sit up, my entire
body cried out at the stiffness in my joints and distressing ache in my bruised
ribs. My head throbbed and I dropped back against the tub, wanting to do
nothing but cry. But no—that was the last thing I’d do.
    I propped my shriveled hands on the edges of the tub,
using all my strength to lift myself. The movements triggered a