She never meant to fall in love.
She was on an overnight stay in Milwaukee after touring a local public school district, pledging money to found computer labs and science wings. In the last few months, the disease had become unbearable, and shooting pains and rashes meant she needed regular checkups at a specialist. It didn't really matter where, everybody knew her case, it had been splashed on the cover of every newspaper across the globe. 'Billionaire heiress struck down with fatal disease!', 'Lauren VanLorne to die!'. Given the nature of the disease, the rumours had swirled over sex scandals, ranging from a relationship with the British Prime Minister to bestiality and just about everywhere in between. She supposed it was really her own fault. The rumours, not the disease - which had been diagnosed as sporadic, rare, incurable. Her wild teenage years of drunken partying and relationships with much older men had meant she had been a tabloid staple the past twenty years of her life, and only now in her late 30s was she starting to change. The cold knocking of death at her door had given her a new perspective. She had more money now than she would ever need. She didn't have a family: she was an only child, and both her parents had been killed in a bizarre murder-suicide when she was 18 - her infamous past meant she'd never managed to hold down a relationship, even with men so desperate for her money. So, for the past few months, she had been giving as much of it away as possible. Generous shares in the company had been given to various charitable organisations too, she felt like she had done good now, like she could die happy, complete.
That was until this cold Milwaukee evening, sitting in the waiting room of an exclusive health clinic, when her life suddenly felt very incomplete, and she noticed the giant piece of the jigsaw that had been missing from her heart. It was her doctor: a pale, slightly square-jawed woman by the name of Samantha Kent. She was not conventionally attractive, and had a slightly nervous disposition about her - though that may have just been the nature of the client - but all of a sudden Lauren felt an overwhelming warmth and attraction, like nothing she had felt before. It welled inside her chest and grew outwards, she felt her whole body tremble slightly, and in the tips of her fingers felt bathed in sunshine.
"Hello, I'm Doctor Samantha Kent, I'll be looking after you today." Her smile was slightly crooked, a far cry from the plastic lips, where smiles always revealed perfect white teeth and had a forced air about them, as if they had been practiced a hundred times in front of a mirror.
'Hi,' said Lauren, 'I, uh, suppose you've already been briefed on my situation.'
'Yes,' said the doctor, 'and I really am terribly sorry about it. All those beautiful and wonderful things your doing are going to get cut short because of it, you truly are remarkable.'
'Oh, no,' Lauren chuckled slightly, 'I mean really, if it weren't for this - well - whole shitty situation I would never have started all these things. I'd still be a vain, awful, stuck up bitch to be honest.'
'Well, maybe.' the doctor replied.
They lingered a second in the empty waiting room, decked out luxuriously in oak panel, with long windows and modern furnishings. The lamplight glowed yellow, and a soft song, indistinguishable, played lightly in the background.
"Well, uh, should we get you checked out, make sure everything's progressing.' The doctor said, after a while.
'Uh, yeah - yes. Please.' Lauren smiled, as the doctor directed her down the hall.