Falling Again in El Salvador

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Falling Again in El Salvador Page 5

by Julie Danvers


  And now, she was in his life again. Here to remind him of a version of himself that he hadn’t been in five years. A version of himself that he was sick of competing with, and had done his best to escape.

  He’d worked hard to build a new life in El Salvador. He took pride in being a good obstetrician, and he’d mostly managed to move beyond any longing he’d once had for his past.

  Mostly.

  Cassie’s return had brought back so many memories of their time together, as well as the person that he used to be. But that’s all they were: memories. He was tired of competing with his past self. The old Bryce needed to stay in the past, where he belonged.

  Just as his relationship with Cassie needed to stay in the past, where it belonged. He felt again the tension of those two conflicting urges: to run from her and to hold her close. He couldn’t run from her, so he’d simply have to ignore the desire to hold her the way he’d held her for warmth the night before. That certainly wouldn’t be happening again. He would make sure of it.

  Cassie had been brusque and businesslike when they’d woken in the morning to don their clothes. He still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to strip down at Cassie’s insistence. He had just been so cold after his dousing in the rain that he couldn’t resist the prospect of getting warm. At least huddling together naked had given their clothes a chance to dry.

  They’d have to be careful to avoid situations like that in the future. Especially if they were going to keep things professional, as they’d agreed.

  But did he want to keep things professional?

  He tried to tell himself the same thing he’d told Cassie last night: they needed to focus on moving forward. But it was hard to think about moving forward while he was being tantalized by the recent memory of her skin, dappled with raindrops, drying in the warmth of the sleeping bag.

  It’s just a physical attraction, he told himself. She’s always been a beautiful woman. There’s no denying that.

  He could handle a physical attraction. He’d just give it a few weeks, and it would pass. Since the breakup with Cassie, Bryce hadn’t been seriously interested in anyone. There had been a few casual encounters, but nothing that went far below the surface.

  When he and Cassie had met, he’d been attracted to how daring she was. Growing up in a family of surgeons, Bryce had constantly been subjected to his parents’ stories about patients who’d suffered serious injuries from accidents. From an early age, he’d learned to practice immense caution in order to prevent himself from becoming one of the victims in his family’s stories. Then, when he’d finally become a surgeon, his family had repeatedly stressed the importance of avoiding any kind of injury to his hands. His hands were his living, his father had said. Any injury to them meant an end to his career. And his father had certainly been proven right about that.

  Cassie’s carefree nature had been a welcome contrast to his overprotective family. At first, he hadn’t been certain of what to make of the headstrong woman who always seemed to be at the top of her medical cohort, eager to answer questions and ready to volunteer for any procedure. He’d noticed his attraction to her from the beginning, and he’d done his best to hide it. As a medical student, she was off-limits as a dating option, and he wasn’t sure if she was even interested in him.

  But then she’d invited him to meet her for coffee in the commissary. A simple cup of coffee seemed harmless enough. They’d talked about how they liked to spend the weekends. At the time, he’d preferred reading and listening to music. Safe indoor activities that kept his feet firmly on the ground.

  Cassie, on the other hand, enjoyed rappelling. She headed to a state park every weekend to push herself off the cliffs.

  Bryce had expressed his amazement at her willingness to drop off a cliff, only a rope between herself and certain death. “I could never do anything like that,” he’d said.

  “Sure you could,” she’d replied. “I’ll take you there some weekend on my motorcycle.”

  He’d sputtered a bit over his coffee. “Your motorcycle?”

  Motorcycles were commonly referred to as death traps within the Hamlin family. His parents, both ER trauma surgeons, had shared many stories of motorcycle riders badly injured in accidents. He was pretty sure no Hamlin in three generations had ever ridden a motorcycle. And yet Cassie spoke of them as nothing more than an exciting mode of transportation.

  “If there’s one thing I could never see myself doing, it’s riding a motorcycle,” he’d said.

  And yet, somehow, the next weekend found him tentatively getting onto a motorcycle behind her. To his surprise, the ride was freeing. With nothing surrounding him but the wind, and the road, and the closeness of Cassie, he felt much of his caution and worry drifting away.

  He’d been exhilarated by the ride, but he was even more exhilarated afterward, when they’d gotten off the bike and she’d turned around and kissed him.

  It had been a nervous, quick brush of a kiss, and he knew that she’d taken a risk by doing it. She hadn’t been sure how he would respond. And he couldn’t help himself. Despite the rules, he pulled her to him, and a kiss that had begun as tentative deepened into something much more.

  After that, he spent much more time doing the kinds of things his family would have deemed too dangerous. There were many more trips on her motorcycle, as well as days spent riding roller coasters and rollerblading at skate parks. Things that he’d once found terrifying became thrilling when Cassie was there. There was an element of adventure she brought into his life that he hadn’t known was missing.

  She’d even talked him into doing karaoke. Never mind that he couldn’t carry a tune. As it happened, neither could she. But he loved the way she belted out songs as though she meant them from the depth of her heart and soul—no matter how her audience might react.

  Shortly after their last karaoke outing, he’d bought the ring. He’d spent the night in tears of laughter, watching her give her hammiest performance of classic love songs in front of an obstreperous crowd. He’d been having so much fun, and then he’d realized that he never wanted to stop having fun with her. Or to be apart from her at all, really. And so he’d kept the ring close at hand, thinking that after she finished medical school, he might propose. But then the incident had happened.

  Bryce and Cassie had been several hours into an ER shift. As senior resident, he was in charge; he was almost finished with the final year of his five-year residency as a surgeon. A patient had come in with an abdominal aortic aneurysm, a complicated procedure that only senior attending physicians at the hospital were allowed to perform. But by midnight, the attending physicians had all gone home. Bryce had put in a call for a senior surgeon, but with the terrible weather, several main roads were blocked and there was no telling when help would arrive.

  “You have to do something,” Cassie had said. “You know how to do the surgery. The aneurysm could burst any minute.”

  “It’s against the rules,” he’d replied. “What if something goes wrong? What if the patient dies because I took a risk?”

  “He’s guaranteed to die if you don’t.”

  In the end, he’d compromised. Bryce informed the surgical nurses that instead of performing the full surgery, he would simply make an incision into the patient’s abdomen large enough to expose the aorta. By starting the surgery, he could keep the patient alive until the attending physician reached the hospital. It was a bold plan, but it meant the patient was more likely to survive if the aneurysm ruptured while they waited for the attending physician.

  The patient did survive, but the hospital board still felt it was necessary to take stern disciplinary measures. They attributed the patient’s survival to luck rather than to Bryce’s skill. As a medical student, Cassie had only received a warning, but as the resident in charge, Bryce had taken full responsibility for the decision and had been put on probation. If he made one more mistake, he woul
d be fired immediately.

  Bryce had told Cassie that it wasn’t her fault. Ultimately, it was his decision, and even though they had broken the rules, they had also saved the patient’s life.

  He knew she felt guilty about pushing him to make the decision. But he had been the one to make the final call, and in spite of everything that had happened, he didn’t regret it. The patient had survived and that was what mattered. If being put on probation was a consequence he had to live with, then he could handle that. He had a spotless record otherwise.

  Cassie, however, was devastated that he was on probation. He was somewhat concerned, too, but he was reasonably sure that as long as they continued to keep their relationship a secret for a few more months, he wouldn’t be fired. But to his great surprise, Cassie the daredevil, the fearless woman he thought he’d fallen in love with, was afraid to take the risk.

  When she expressed her worries to him, he’d thought she simply wanted to lay low for a few months. Perhaps see each other less often until she graduated, just to play it safe for a while. But then he’d learned he lost a fellowship he’d applied for due to his probationary status. He couldn’t hide his disappointment from Cassie.

  Three days later, he found the note on his nightstand.

  Sometimes he wondered if things between the two of them would have turned out differently if he hadn’t been hit by a drunk driver six weeks later. His recovery had kept him from calling anyone at first. Only his immediate family had known what had happened, and he’d asked them to keep the news private. If Cassie knew about the accident, she might want to be there to support him. But he didn’t want to have to deal with his feelings about her while he was also recovering from his injuries. And he definitely didn’t want her pity.

  And worse, what if she didn’t come at all?

  Then he’d know for sure that the appeal of their relationship had never been that she was with him. Instead, it had been about the secrecy, the excitement and the danger of getting caught. A way to flaunt the rules, to get a thrill. That’s what she’d been attracted to.

  He’d held on to the ring for a while—longer than he thought he would—and then eventually sold it to pay for the Suzuki 650. A ring for a motorcycle. Not a bad trade, all things considered.

  He’d been in El Salvador for three years, and in that time, he’d managed to build a life he could be proud of. He might not be a superstar surgeon, but he was a damned good obstetrician. And as for relationships...there had been a few flings, here and there, but no one serious since Cassie. He told himself that he preferred it that way. Life in El Salvador was complicated enough without romantic feelings getting in the way. Hell, practicing medicine was complicated enough without all that nonsense.

  Which was why it was so important that he be able to accept that he and Cassie were two professionals with a past, and nothing more. Whatever physical attraction he might feel for her, it didn’t change the fact that the two of them hadn’t worked out, wouldn’t work out and were never getting back together.

  Realizing that he hadn’t yet stopped by the dispensary for his daily antimalarial dose, he headed to the small cinder block building at the center of the camp. To his surprise, he found Cassie alone inside, struggling to wrap a bandage around her ankle.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, alarmed. “What happened?”

  She shrugged, dismissive. “It’s no big deal. I just jarred my ankle a little when the bike jerked on that stone last night.”

  “Why didn’t you let me look at your ankle? Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong?”

  She scowled at him. “Because nothing was wrong. It’s not even a sprain. It’s just a little tender and swollen. I’m only taping it up so it has a little support.”

  He looked at her ankle. It did indeed look a little red and swollen, but not serious. Nothing that a little rest, support and pain relievers wouldn’t cure. Cassie, however, had spent half the morning hiking back to camp. Why hadn’t she said anything? Did she really feel the need to be so guarded that she couldn’t even tell him when she was hurt?

  Also, she was making a complete mess of the bandage. He’d had plenty of experience with sprained and stressed ankles, and he could think of at least three better ways to bind her foot that would offer more support.

  “I would have appreciated you letting me know that you’d been hurt,” he said. “Especially with all the walking we did this morning. I could have helped you.”

  She rubbed her ankle and undid the bandage again. “I don’t need help.”

  He looked at where the bandage lay unspooled around her foot. Despite his frustration at her for not telling him about her injury, he couldn’t help smiling at her clear difficulty with the bandage.

  “Is that so? Because I’ve seen first-year medical students provide better first aid than this. Are you sure you’re a doctor?”

  Her eyes sparked. “I’m an ob-gyn, not a physical therapist. I haven’t needed to tape up an ankle in years.”

  He sat beside her. “Come on, let me take a look. I’ve had to take care of plenty of my own bumps and bruises since I got here. You develop a knack for it after a while.”

  Grudgingly, she handed him the bandage. He probed her ankle, looking for tender spots. After he’d ascertained for himself that Cassie’s injury wasn’t serious, he wrapped the bandage around her ankle and her foot, creating a makeshift splint.

  She flexed her foot, testing. “That actually feels a lot better. Thank you.” Then she looked rather shamefaced. “Look... I’m sorry if I was giving you a hard time. The truth is, I absolutely hate being fussed over.”

  He knew the feeling. It was often hard, as a doctor, to be in the patient role. Bryce always felt slightly uncomfortable whenever he needed any sort of medical attention of his own. He smiled at her. “Fiercely independent, as ever.” And then, although he tried to stop himself, he couldn’t help adding, “Is it worth it?”

  “Is what worth it?”

  “Proving that you don’t need any help. From anyone.” Especially not from me, he didn’t say, although the words hung unspoken in the air.

  She thought for a moment, and he cursed himself for letting his words slip out. Why couldn’t he have simply accepted her thanks, instead of making the moment so awkward? What could he possibly expect her to say?

  She took a deep breath. “There’s something about me that I’ve never told you.”

  Something in her tone made him pause. Whatever it was she was working up to, it seemed as though it were difficult to get out. He regretted his sharp words from a moment ago. Cassie was the one with the hurt ankle, and he’d just made the situation worse.

  And yet he did want to know why she was so determined to prove that she didn’t need anyone’s help. It certainly wasn’t getting her anywhere—look at what a mess she’d made of that bandage.

  He recalled his physical therapy after the accident. There had been so many times when he’d wanted to be independent. He’d hated having to admit that he was at his limit, and that he needed to ask for help from someone else.

  But he’d learned to do it. What was keeping her from doing the same?

  Her next words took him by complete surprise.

  “I was born with a heart defect. I had three surgeries before I was sixteen.”

  It was not the turn he’d expected the conversation to take. Not by a long shot. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I hardly tell anyone. It’s the kind of thing that can make people think differently about me once they know it. And I didn’t want that to happen with you. It might sound silly, but... I didn’t want you to see me as weak.”

  “Weak? Why on earth would I think that?”

  “Sometimes people react that way. Even though I’m healthy now, sometimes people start treating me as though I’m excessively fragile when they find out.” Her eyes met his, and he saw their
familiar blue blaze burning. “I never wanted you to see me that way. As someone who needed extra protection or as this dainty, fragile object, always a moment away from breaking. I never wanted you to see me as anything less than capable.”

  “No one who knows you could ever think that.” He held her gaze for a moment longer than he meant to. Could she really think that he would ever see her as weak? Nothing could be further from the truth.

  He’d seen the same fire in her eyes in the past. It blazed whenever she was arguing a point or advocating for a patient...or whenever she was at her most passionate. He looked away and cleared his throat. “So that’s why you need to show you can do everything on your own. You need to prove that you’re more than your diagnosis.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be. But ever since I was born, my diagnosis ruled my life. When I was in school, my nickname was Heart Defect Girl. My entire identity was reduced to my heart condition.”

  He winced. “Children aren’t always good at making sure everyone feels included.”

  “You’d be surprised at how adults aren’t all that different.”

  He nodded slowly. Cassie’s news was unexpected, but it also made certain things click into place. He remembered how she’d snapped at him yesterday in the forest when he’d offered to look at her ankle. He’d only meant it as a thoughtful gesture, but Cassie had probably chafed against what she’d perceived as overprotectiveness.

  Other things were clicking into place, as well. He remembered how she had always jumped into things with both feet, whether it was a complicated birthing procedure or the longest, loudest song at a karaoke bar. Had all the risks she’d taken during their relationship been her way of proving that she wasn’t fragile?

  He thought about how his own childhood had been full of activity. He’d leaped off swings, jumped on trampolines, played sports. All things that children with healthy hearts could do without a second thought. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have to constantly sit on the sidelines, watching everyone else have a normal, active childhood.

 

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