He smiled back at me. “I have three older sisters. One of them, the youngest one, actually lives here in Texas. The other two still live in California near where we grew up. You?”
“It’s just me and my mom. My dad died when I was a kid.” I prayed that he wouldn’t ask any follow up questions about my dad. I really didn’t enjoy talking about his death, even now, and especially so close to the anniversary.
“I’m sorry,” Eric said. “Losing a parent sucks. My mom died two years ago from breast cancer and I’m not sure I’ll ever be over it.” His eyes skipped around the room, not settling anywhere for more than a moment.
“You won’t be.” The words just slipped out. Usually I was pretty good at thinking before I spoke, but Eric had me all kinds of mixed up tonight. Eric looked over at my face in surprise. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say that. It might just be me.”
Eric just nodded. “No, I think you’re right. I don’t think I ever will be, either. I don’t think anyone ever gets over the loss of their parents.” He sighed. “But it’s better than it was. Plus, I have my sisters to boss me around. They’ve really stepped up their game.” I smiled. Eric definitely had a nurse’s ability to defuse an emotional situation. Usually that was my job in any situation, so it was kind of nice, if a bit obvious, when it got used on me. “What other questions do you have?” he asked after a moment. “Am I any closer to convincing you that this might work?”
Reality came crashing back to our little table in the Pho restaurant. It might have felt like one for a moment, but I should remember that this wasn’t a real date. This was more like a really bizarre job interview. Or maybe it was more like a business meeting? Whatever it was, it wasn’t a date.
“Eric, you know this scheme is going to collapse into some kind of horrible mess, right?” I frowned at him. “There’s no way we can pull this off.”
He frowned at me. “Why do you think that?”
“Ok. You want to go through the reasons? Let me count the ways. Here we go.” I held up a finger. “My mom watches those Lifetime movies all the times. You know the ones? The heart-warming sweet movies where people get up to all sorts of ridiculous emotional hijinks before living happily ever after? This is just like one of those, except we live in the real world where we both get fired instead, and probably end up hating each other along the way.” A second finger joined the first. “Second, I’m a terrible liar. Terrible. And this is a huge, gigantic, elaborate lie. I’m going to blow it, and not even intentionally.” I stuck a third finger in the air. “Finally, even if we made it through to Easter, got our cool new jobs and our annulment and figured it out between ourselves, it would be awkward forever for us to work around each other. I’ve seen nurses and doctors get mixed up at the hospital before, and let me tell you, it always works out poorly for the nurse.”
Eric listened to my reasoning with all the quiet focus and attentiveness that he’d give any patient listing their symptoms. Once I fell silent, he launched into his own round of diagnostic questioning.
“I can work with that. Let’s start with the first one. You think this situation is too far-flung to work? Just think about this. We apparently work for a guy who gives out promotions to a pair of drunkards who happened to get married at his New Year’s party. If that’s not irrational and bizarre, I don’t know what is. I feel like our response is totally consistent with the facts of the situation. It might be weird, but it’s appropriate and really the best we can do. If we come clean right now, we might be fired. At least this way we can buy ourselves some time.”
I frowned. “Maybe,” I said grudgingly. “Maybe I’ll give you that one.”
Eric grinned, and the sight made my heart pound. “Next, you might be a terrible liar, but you’re pretty good about keeping secrets and dispensing need-to-know information. You keep secrets and manage expectations from patients all day long. Just don’t tell people more than they need to know about our marriage, which is legal and real remember? Just leave it at that.”
Again, he wasn’t wrong. I did keep secrets and manage expectations from patients all day. That was at least fifty percent of my job, really. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Some days, that was nursing in a nutshell. Other days it was saving lives and delivering babies and doing awesome stuff, but sometimes I felt like an emotional defensive lineman at the end of my shift.
“You mean when people ask for details, I should just shut them down like they’re patients wondering when the doctor will be by to see them?”
“Exactly.” Eric looked totally convinced.
That… could work.
“So, you’re saying I won’t really have to lie to anyone.”
He shook his head, but his confidence remained. “I can’t guarantee that. But I think it’s fair to say that if you don’t want to share all the details of your personal life, I think you are well within your rights to set those boundaries with our coworkers.” I was mulling that over for a moment when he added, “plus you’ve been shutting me down for months. Just do that to other people.”
I blinked at him. “Yeah, well that’s because of my third and most important reason: when it comes down to it, one of us is probably going to get screwed over, and that person will probably be me. I’ve seen the way failed relationships play out between doctors and nurses at this hospital. All the doctors are still around. None of the nurses are.”
“So, it isn’t that you don’t like me?” His voice was unexpectedly soft. Not exactly vulnerable, I’d say, but extremely interested. His green eyes stared into mine, and they were suddenly more intense than a moment prior.
What a preposterous question.
My lips parted in surprise. I honestly hadn’t ever thought he would ask something like that. I looked across the table at him and forced myself not be dazzled by him. Just sitting here with him, alone, made my heart pound and my thoughts race. It felt like I’d been floundering around all evening in front of him. “No, it’s not that I don’t like you. I like you.” The admission felt like it cost me more than the price of the ring I was still refusing to wear. “It’s just that it would never work.”
Eric paused. His expression fell slightly and became resigned. “I don’t know if you’re right or wrong about that, but I respect that answer.” He looked down at his food as if it might hold some hidden secret. “I’d leave you alone if that was what you wanted, I’m not the type of guy that doesn’t know how to take no for an answer, except I really want this job. I want you to have yours, too.”
I believed him. Eric seemed incredibly decent professionally and had never given me any reason before to doubt that he would be that way personally. In the year of working together, although it was obvious from day one that there was something between us, some possibility, he’d always been respectful when I pushed him away. “Maybe it would work,” I said after a moment. “This idea, I mean.” I bit my lip and took a deep breath before continuing. “None of these couples had ever been married in the past. And if we split up amicably at the end…”
Eric nodded. “What if I do this… We both know I can’t be fired from my residency. If I get fired for my professionalism or conduct it will be almost impossible for me to find another job or ever practice medicine again. As you know, the firing of a doctor with a temporary residency license like mine is a huge deal. But if I leave voluntarily, I’ll be fine. I can find another job. I thought I was only going to stay here a few years anyway. This is too big an opportunity to pass up, but if this doesn’t work out, for any reason, I’ll be the one who resigns.”
I blinked at him. He was right about being fired, of course. He’d be royally screwed. But if he would agree to sacrifice his own dream job to save mine, and just for the opportunity to try for what he wanted… Eric really wanted this. And I did too. But even if I didn’t, I hated disappointing people, and truthfully, it would be a thousand times easier for me to find another job than him. There were other hospitals in this town. Indecision swirled around in my brain. “Do you really mean
that?”
“Yes.” He paused. “I mean it. If push comes to shove, and one of us has to get out, it’ll be me. Have I convinced you?”
I swallowed hard. “You make a compelling case for yourself Dr. Carter.”
He winced. “Please stop calling me that.”
“Alright.” I took a deep breath and stepped off into the deep end. “You make a compelling case for yourself, husband.”
Eric grinned.
9
Eric
At her request, I didn’t walk Faith back to her door.
“Are you sure?” I questioned as we drove back to her apartment. The energy and attraction that had been simmering between us all evening was gnawing at me, and I felt like I was being tricked into ruining it. “I don’t want to make your mom hate me, and while I might not be a perfect gentleman all the time, I do try. I know she might not be my real mother-in-law, but I don’t routinely go around disappointing the mother of my dates on purpose. It’s bad form.”
Faith rolled her big dark eyes. I saw it out of the corner of my vision as I drove. “Everyone disappoints my mother, and rarely on purpose. I do it at least twice a day. You shouldn’t worry about it.”
We pulled up to the curb. I frowned. “I still feel like I’ve done a horrible job on this date. If this were a real date, you’d never go out with me again.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. I would.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked like she regretted them. It was too dark to say for certain, but I was fairly sure she was blushing. The expression on her face tugged at my memory.
It was then that I finally remembered why it was that I woke up on the floor, instead of in the bed. My heart started to pound. The final piece came back all at once, totally intact. Faith was a virgin. Now that I remembered, I had to say something.
But what? What do you say to someone you got drunk with, married, and then inadvertently rejected? I’d been drunk and terrified that I might hurt her, but the heartbreak and confusion on her face… now that I remembered, guilt followed. Discomfort and regret rose up in me. I hadn’t handled that situation well at all.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just settled on, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings last night, Faith. I never meant for you to feel rejected.” It sounded hollow and rote in my own ears.
She shrugged and turned away, staring resolutely out the window. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter. I barely remember.”
Faith was right. She was a terrible liar.
I touched her arm to get her to look at me again. “It doesn’t look like you believe that.”
“No, really, it’s fine.” She continued to stare out the window.
“You know it wasn’t because I didn’t find you attractive, right? I just didn’t want to hurt you.”
She frowned and finally looked over. “We don’t need to talk about this. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Once again, Faith was freezing me out. I knew there was no chance of convincing her to talk to me if she didn’t want to, so I had almost resigned myself to her silence when she added, “you were probably sobering up and coming to your senses. I don’t expect you to want me.”
I lifted my hand from her arm and turned her chin to face me instead. Almost without thinking, I kissed her. Fiercely. Passionately. Properly. So, she wouldn’t have any doubt that I wanted her last night, and still did. It might have been the wrong thing to do, but I couldn’t stop myself.
For a second, I thought she might pull away, or worse, pull back and slap me. But she didn’t. After a moment of shock, I drew away. My heart was pounding against my ribs almost painfully.
“Is this ok—” I started to ask, but then she was kissing me back, exploring my mouth with the same enthusiasm and lust that I was exploring hers. For the first time all day, I actually felt good. Kissing Faith cured my hangover in an instant. I pulled her up close against me and she buried her fingers in my hair.
Within the narrow confines of the car, we could only get so close, and I was seriously debating unbuckling her seat belt and hauling her over the center console when she finally pulled away.
Faith stared at me wide-eyed. “I’m sorry. This is a terrible idea.”
It seemed like an excellent idea to me. At the moment I was thinking of all kinds of other excellent ideas, like unbuttoning her silky little blouse in the back seat or taking her back to my place. This time around, we were both sober and in control of our faculties. If she was good to go, then so was I.
“Why? We’re married, aren’t we?”
“I need to go.” She bit her lip. “I need to go right now.”
I blinked. “Ok. Good night—” I started to say but she was already out of the car and halfway up the stairs to her apartment. “See you tomorrow, Faith,” I said to the empty passenger seat. “Sleep well.”
10
Eric
I didn’t sleep a wink. After our encounter in the car, all I could think about was Faith. Even going through my usual gym routine didn’t clear my head any, and by the time I got back to my apartment and took a shower, it was all I could do not to text Faith an actual booty call. That was why when I received one myself, I was instinctively reaching for my keys.
Myra Rodriguez [11:59 p.m.]: Hey, what are you doing right now? I’m lonely.
I blinked. The text wasn’t from Faith. It was from my ex-girlfriend, Myra.
What the hell? After all this time?
Myra Rodriguez [11:59 p.m.]: Seriously. I know you’re awake. You never sleep. Come over.
Christ Myra. Really? You’ve got to be kidding me.
Myra and I had broken up over a year and a half ago. We lived in different states. I’m not sure what she expected from me at that moment, but I suspected that she’d broken up with the guy she left me for and was now drunk, horny, and lonely. I was two out of those three things, so I sympathized, but I wasn’t going to play her games. I didn’t text her back.
Myra Rodriguez [11:59 p.m.]: Eric, come on. Can we talk? I think I made a mistake.
Yeah you did, but too little too late, baby. You maybe should have thought of that before you cheated on me. I had to get on antibiotics after I left you. Thank god there’s a cure for chlamydia.
There was a time I’d have taken a bullet for that woman but coming home to find her banging a guy I thought was my friend on my kitchen table had changed all that in about two seconds. After having that image seared into my brain, there was no way that Myra and I had a chance to repair things. I’d simply gone to the other room, packed my shit, and left. She could keep the table, it was tainted anyway. Today, there was honestly nothing I wanted to say to her, nothing I wanted to hear from her, and nothing left between us. She’d probably regret texting me tomorrow. I turned my phone on silent.
Bye bye, Myra. Have a good rest of your life but please leave me alone forever. Don’t worry, I’ll make it easy for you. I live three states away now and it still feels too close for comfort.
My experience with Myra, another dark eyed, dark haired beauty like Faith, had only confirmed what I already suspected to be true: all relationships are temporary and should be treated as such. I wasn’t anti-monogamy. I believed that some could be long-term and healthy, even lifelong, but that was the exception and not the rule. And yet, humanity had foolishly decided that the goal should be that everyone should yolk oneself to a partner forever in a legal and religious trap that often involved innocent children and meant that people felt compelled to stay in unhappy, even abusive situations.
What was the point? Maybe that made sense when people only lived to age thirty and had eight children who were needed to work the farm, but that was a tiny minority in the modern age. Modern lifespans were triple what our early agricultural ancestors suffered through. The world had changed, and the institution of marriage had become outdated and even cruel. It was time for traditional marriage to become something that was analyzed in an academic setting as a relic of the past.
When I thought of the number of women I’d treated in the hospital for injuries that were clearly inflicted by their husbands and partners, it made my blood boil. It was a cycle of abuse that spanned generations, getting passed down from parents to children like it was normal. Eliminating marriage wouldn’t eliminate domestic violence, but it certainly would help. If there was no societal, legal, or religious expectation that people had to stay in their crappy situation forever, maybe they would be more willing to leave. Logically I knew that the root of domestic violence was way too psychosocially complicated to be blamed on any one factor—I took entire courses on it in medical school, but I couldn’t help but be convinced that marriage contributed to the violence suffered by of billions of men, women, and children.
The people of the world would be better off renegotiating relationships after seven years like sports contracts. Is it going well? Cool. Give it seven more years. Not going so well? Ok, that’s cool too. Split up the movie collection, figure out how to share custody of the cat, and go separate ways. No harm, no judgment, no hurt feelings. Wouldn’t a dispassionate uncoupling be the easiest and cleanest solution to a stale relationship? Wouldn’t it be kinder? Nothing else lasts forever. Why should love?
A Bad Case of You Page 6