Maybe This Summer (Colorado Ice #2.5)(7)

Her attacker disappeared with her future.

She sat at the red light, staring at the young woman whose face had replaced hers on the billboard, smiling above the city, carefree, happy…and she couldn’t shake the torment of wondering where she’d be had the attack not happened. She’d always dreamed of Paris runways, modeling high-fashion designs, and photoshoots in exotic locations. Tall from her early teen years, and blessed with a look society deemed beautiful, modeling had been a certainty in her future.

A car horn behind her made her jump. The light had turned green. She hit the gas and cast one final glance at the advertisement.

Her life had more purpose now. She was helping people. She was doing something meaningful with her life. She’d moved on and made the best of a tragic situation.

Then why did the sight of the smiling face on the billboard still make her wonder how her life could have been different? She’d accepted what had happened to her. She’d even learned to forgive her attacker with the help of her support group. But she couldn’t seem to let go completely of the dream she’d once had…or the desire to once again have the beauty she’d lost.

It was silly. It shouldn’t matter. But for so long so much of her self-worth had been wrapped up in her outside appearance that she’d never fully thought herself capable of anything else. Working at the Burn Treatment Center, she’d hoped those feelings of inadequacy would fade.

Still, they lingered.

The red and blue lights flashing in her rearview mirror a second later made her slow her Audi, hoping the police officer would go around. But he remained behind her and then the siren sounded as well.

Shit. Was this for her? Pulling the car to the side of the road, she stopped and waited, reaching for her sweater and shoving her arms into it. Well, if she was late for her appointment with Dr. Madsen, it couldn’t be blamed on her this time. She cranked the A/C higher and turned down the radio.

The police officer tapped the window and she rolled it down. “Hi, officer.”

“License and registration please,” he said, glancing inside the immaculate vehicle.

“Sure.” She rummaged around in her purse for them and handed them through the window.

He scanned them quickly. “Is this the current registration?”

She nodded with a frown. “Yeah, why?”

“It expired.”

“That can’t be right.” Taking it back, she saw that it had expired in May. She sighed. “You’re not going to give me a ticket, are you?”

“That depends. Were you headed to the DMV now when I pulled you over?”

“Yes?”

He nodded.

“Then yes, I was.” The DMV was her idea of hell on earth, but it still beat where she’d really been heading.

He handed back her information. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you, officer.” She rolled up the window and waited until he’d driven away to pull out in traffic. “Call Dr. Madsen,” she told her hands-free connection, grateful for the valid excuse for missing the appointment.

But a minute later, she was receiving an earful from him. “Paige, this is the third time this month.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But this was beyond my control.”

“Come see me when you’re done.”

She glanced at the time. “It’s already after twelve, and you know how long it takes at the DMV…I should have brought a sleeping bag,” she joked, hoping to change the mood. Dr. Madsen had been her doctor for six years, helping her through her very first surgery. He was like family, and she hated to disappoint him with her anxiety and fears. And, unfortunately, she knew her mother would find out, as the two played tennis at the same club and often had dinner together. Patient confidentiality apparently didn’t extend to her when they’d all been in it together since the start.

She swallowed a lump of guilt, thinking about everything her mother had sacrificed to get her to this point in her recovery. The first several reconstructive surgeries had been covered by her health plan at Blissful Cosmetics, but when her recovery and progress hadn’t been as instant as they’d hoped, she’d been let go. Their “beauty from within” campaign was obviously not something the corporate executives truly believed in. After that, she’d had her meager savings to cover some of her hospital expenses, but then her parents had stepped in to help.

The bills had piled up quickly, and they’d remortgaged their house, drained their retirement savings…The financial strain combined with the emotional roller coaster of her recovery had been too much on her father, and he’d bailed three years ago.

Having the strength to apply for the position at the Burn Treatment Center had come from pure desperation and a desire to help her mother regain all the things she’d sacrificed in her mission to help Paige feel whole again.

And in a way these surgeries were a way of repaying her mother, too. She owed her mom so much, and giving up on these treatments would feel as though she were letting her down, not to mention the patients who looked to her to be an example of what was possible. The weight of it made her sigh. How was she supposed to fully move on when she was constantly trying to regain an impossible perfection, feeling like she was just shy of—just one surgery away from—being enough?

“Paige,” Dr. Madsen’s voice cut into her thoughts.