THIRTY-ONE

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HER

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at•ti•tude
noun
1. truculent or uncooperative behavior; a resentful or antagonistic manner.
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The air outside is cold today, as it whirls restlessly, stabbing at my exposed skin like ice. Clouds loom in the sky, dark and brooding remnants from last nights rainstorm. Despite the dismal weather today, I'm hopeful, excited even. Things feel different since I told Ethan about my divorce.

I pull my coat tighter across my chest as I near the front doors of the children's hospital. Even through my gloves, I can feel the biting cold of the heavy doorframe as I open it and quickly slip inside.

Letting out a shallow breath, I fix my tousled hair and pull off my gloves, slipping them into my pockets as I glance around. I haven't been to this hospital since Demi broke her arm a couple years ago, but this place looks completely different.

The dull light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows cast a gray hue on the area. I crinkle my nose as the pungent smell of lemon cleaners wafts through the air. Quiet chattering envelopes the spacious entryway as a small TV in the corner plays the news softly. Solemn faces cover those sitting in the large waiting area, boredom and curiosity brings their gazes briefly to me.

I smile a tight lipped smile, as I turn my attention to the front desk. A couple women in gray scrubs chat together, seemingly enjoying themselves until they notice me approaching. The one with short, brown hair eyes me closely whilst whispering to the blonde one. They snicker at whatever she said before the brown-haired one leaves the reception area.

I hold my tongue as I approach the desk, tightening my grasp on my purse as I reach the blonde woman.

She smirks, a tinge of amusement in her voice as she greets me. "Hello, how can I help you today?"

"Hi," I say, my patience already wearing thin. "I'm here to—"

"Hold on one second." The blonde woman's blue eyes flit to mine for a brief moment before she types something into the computer, chuckling to herself once more. "Okay, what did you need?" she asks, not bothering to look up at me.

I take a deep breath and plaster on my best smile. "Okay, I'm here to see Dr. Price—"

"Do you have an appointment?" She asks, peering up at me with eyes full of skepticism. "Dr. Price is in very high demand. His time is very valuable." She pulls out a form from behind the desk and slaps it onto the counter. "You can fill this out and we'll see if we can find someone else to help you."

I blink, slightly taken aback. "Actually." I push the paper back towards her. "I believe he's expecting me. We have lunch plans."

The woman looks up from her computer, and for the first time, she seems to actually take in my appearance. "Oh," she says, looking me over. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Imani," I narrow my eyes slightly, as her eyes widen in recognition.

She runs a hand through damaged, blonde hair as she leans back in her chair. "Hmm," she says, crossing her arms. "Ethan never mentioned having a wife..."

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