Out of the box love stories

Story 1

The sun was already low when the silver-gray Mercedes coupé passed the entrance to St. Albury. Faith Havering drove slowly down the main street and saw at first glance that nothing had changed. The last time she had been here six years ago, everything looked the same as before.

Victorian-style houses alternated with the cottages customary in Cornwall, with small shops, a pharmacy, a bank and of course the pub in between. In the middle of the village was the church, directly opposite the town hall, in front of which the fountain with the statue of the patron saint of St. Albury splashed as always. Smiling, she thought of how they used to splash around in it as children and meet friends there in the evenings when they were teenagers.

A few minutes later she had crossed the town center and stopped in front of a large, old villa that was at the end of a small side street. Faith switched off the engine and with a slight pressure in her stomach let her gaze slide over the facade of the building.

Nothing had changed here either. As in the past, the paint was peeling from the walls, the shutters in front of the panes hung crookedly on their hinges, the supporting beams of the surrounding porch looked rotten.

With a low sigh, she got out and walked reluctantly towards the entrance.

'Elliot Havering, MD' was written on the small brass plate by the doorbell.

Faith swallowed, wistfully ran her fingertips over the cool, polished metal.

She quickly pushed the rising memories aside and pushed down the door handle. The heavy wooden door with the colored lead glass swung open, the familiar smell of floor wax and disinfectants hit her.

She walked slowly into the spacious hallway with the long benches on the walls. It was completely quiet in the house, nobody seemed to be there.

“Aunt Polly? Aunt Molly? ”She called uncertainly as she poked her head into the kitchen.

Everything was neat and clean, on the large dining table there was a bowl of chocolate cookies, which gave off a wonderfully aromatic scent.

Faith smiled. Nothing really had changed; after all these years her aunts still knew perfectly well how much she loved these cookies. Surely the two of them would show up in a moment, they couldn't be far or they would have locked the front door.

Then her face turned serious again. She crossed the hall and hesitantly opened the door to the examining room. The room was in semi-darkness. A broad strip of sunlight fell through the half-closed blinds of the large window, in the beam of which thousands of tiny dust particles danced.

She took a few steps forward on shaky legs.

The memories pounded on her again. She saw her father sitting at the desk, his crumpled, white doctor's coat buttoned carelessly, the gold-rimmed reading glasses on the tip of the nose, her head bent over a patient's file.

Tears welled up in her eyes, she blinked and stared at the chair with the scarred, green leather cover.

"The practice is closed," she heard a deep voice behind her at the same moment.

Startled, she spun around, hastily wiping the moisture from her cheek with the back of her hand.

"I know that," she replied coolly, eyeing the man standing in the doorway.

A pair of long legs and narrow hips tucked into faded jeans. A dark blue sweat jacket, including a white polo shirt that stretched over a muscular chest and equally strong shoulders. Dark, short hair, a small, unruly lock of hair that fell over his forehead. An energetic chin, sensual lips, unusually light gray eyes, which she assessed carefully and appraisingly.

Although they were a good distance apart, she clearly saw his masculine charisma, the charisma of a man who knew exactly what effect he had on women. Involuntarily she held her breath.

"Dr. Edwards at West Cornwall Hospital in Penzance is currently caring for the patients of Dr. Havering, ”he said after meeting her gaze with great confidence for a while. "Or is it an emergency?"

Faith frowned. "Emergency?" She repeated blankly.

"Do you have pain? Are you hurt? ”He asked, a slight impatience in his voice.

At that moment a second pair of light gray eyes appeared next to him.

"I don't want to stay here."

Tears shimmered in the eyes of the about six-year-old, brown haired girl. She hugged an old teddy bear and looked at the man pitifully, ignoring Faith.

The superiority in his gaze disappeared, a mixture of warmth, pain and helplessness took its place.

"Emily, please, I was trying to explain it to you," he said quietly.

His self-confidence was suddenly wiped away, he looked at least as unhappy as the little one.

Confused, Faith watched the two of them, saw how he was desperately searching for the right words to calm the child down. Spontaneously she took a few steps forward, suppressing the impulse to stroke his head in comfort. She crouched down in front of the girl without noticing that her tight skirt had moved up quite a bit.

"It's a shame you don't want to stay here," she smiled, "and I still have so many secret cookies in the kitchen that I don't even know what to do with them."