You Loved Me Once

by Corinne Michaels

  My feet drag as I make my way to the two of them, trying to stop staring at the gold band on his ring finger.

  She signs the paper and Bryce watches me as my hand trembles, taking the form back. There’s a crack in his armor as a look of sadness washes over him before he squeezes his eyes shut, and when they reopen, it’s gone.

  “Do you guys know each other?” she asks as we both study each other.

  I clear my throat, trying to swallow the lump there and then shake my head. I’m not sure how to tell this woman that I spent half my life loving him, and that he broke my entire world. However, I’m not understanding how she hasn’t put it together. If they’re married, I’m sure they know about past relationships.

  “Nope,” he speaks before me.

  Okay, I guess not.

  “But she asked . . .” Allison tries to speak, but he continues before she can finish.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never met her before. Did you graduate med school from Duke? Maybe we went to the same school?”

  Allison looks to me. I didn’t graduate from Duke for med school and he knows that, but I did get my undergrad there. Still, something tells me not to mention it. “I graduated from Northwestern.”

  He shakes his head. “Then I have no idea where our paths could’ve crossed.”

  Really? Really? You have no idea? I have a million of them.

  How can he act like I never existed at all? We loved each other once. We planned an entire life together. I’d be a surgeon and he’d be an architect, we’d have two kids, live in Georgia where the weather was warm and I could do great things in Atlanta. Everything about the life we planned was perfect. He was perfect, and together we were unstoppable. Or so I thought.

  I try to control my shock, but I jerk my head back slightly. I never expected a grand reunion, but I hoped if we ever saw each other again, it wouldn’t be like this. The tightness in my chest, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and the disbelief I feel is overwhelming.

  For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I might break down and cry.

  I need to get the fuck out of here.

  “I’ll get your prescription in,” I say quickly. I can’t be around him and keep my composure. “The nurse will be right back.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks curiously, glancing at the both of us before turning to Bryce. “You’re acting weird and very rude.”

  Bryce brushes her hair back and presses his lips to her forehead. “No, sweetheart. I don’t know her at all. She looks like someone I knew in college, but she died about fourteen years ago. Couldn’t be the same person.”

  He had to have known. He had to have heard my name and known he was going to see me.

  Allison touches his arm. “Oh, that’s so sad.”

  Bryce looks at me. “Yeah, it is, but it was a long time ago and I had forgotten all about her.”

  And just like that, my heart shatters.

  Chapter 6

  I lean my head against the wall and my entire life comes to a halt. Bryce is here, and his wife was accepted into my trial and apparently she has a death wish if this doesn’t work.

  I don’t know how I’m meant to endure seeing her and him—daily.

  “You okay?” Martina asks. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “I think I did,” I say quickly.

  “What?”

  I shake my head. “Please bring Ms. Brown her pain medication. I put a script through. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Without another word, I rush down the hall, past the break room, and head to the bathroom. I slide the lock, the loud click echoes through the small space, and I sink to the floor.

  This can’t be happening. It’s just some horrible nightmare, because I couldn’t have this kind of luck. Why is this happening to me? He’s married and I’m his wife’s doctor.

  Oh my God, he’s married and clearly moved on. Of course he did. A sob escapes my throat as the tears I’ve been fighting back fill my vision.

  My head drops to my knees and I let it out. It could’ve been me, but I chose to leave and he moved on. The same should’ve been true for me. Instead, I’ve been stuck in a holding pattern. I wanted that life.

  It’s clear they love each other, and logically, I was stupid to believe he was like me—missing what we had. I never thought he would pretend that I never existed. That I died. That he didn’t know me. We were everything at one time. God, I was so stupid.

  I sit back up, look at the ceiling, and wipe my face. Damn me for having emotions. I’m supposed to be strong and here I am, crying like a stupid lovesick fool.

  What do almost twenty-four-year-olds know about forever anyway?

  Nothing.

  Then I think about Allison and how she came to me for help that I don’t know if I can give her now.

  Ethically, I’m not sure that I can, or should, treat her. No. I won’t treat her. There’s no way I can work on my ex’s wife. If she dies, will everyone think I did all I could? Can I actually help the woman who is holding the hand of the man I once loved? The man I still think about? The man who clearly doesn’t think about me? The questions swirl around like a funnel cloud leaving nothing but destruction. How the hell can I do this?

  I can’t. That’s the reality.

  I can’t be objective and I can’t lie to Allison about the nature of my relationship with her husband, and that means treating her is a conflict. The rules are clear, and I won’t risk screwing this trial up. I can’t know any of the patients or their families. This is the biggest clusterfuck.

  So much for my amazing day.

  I need to finish checking the trial patients in, then I’ll find a way to refer her to someone else. While I know that is the right thing to do, I feel sick knowing that means she won’t go on with any treatment another doctor will suggest.

  How can I turn her away when I know? I know what will happen to her.

  “Serenity?” Martina’s voice is soft as she knocks.

  Shit. I get up and splash some water on my face, hoping to tone down the splotchy red spots.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I call back to her.

  “Ren, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Martina continues, even with a thick steel door between us.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah right. Unlock the door.”

  I do as she says and her face tells me she’s not buying it. Martina steps into the bathroom with me and crosses her arms over her chest. “Spill it, girl. I know you well enough to see there’s something going on.”

  If I tell her, I could put everything in jeopardy, and there’s no way I’m doing that. For now, I need to keep this to myself and figure out what I’m going to do. “I’m overwhelmed.”

  Her brows raise. “That’s what has you locking yourself in the bathroom? Why not go to the on-call room, which is where you usually hide when you need it?”

  “I don’t want to see Westin,” I say honestly. He’s the last person I want to see right now.

  How is that for timing? I finally start to give my heart a small chance at healing, and the cause of its destruction shows back up. Okay universe . . . I hear you. No love for me.

  Martina watches me closely, but seems to buy it. “What made you say you saw a ghost?”

  Shit.

  “That patient reminded me of my mother.”

  It could be true.

  “Oh, Ren.” Martina’s arms wrap around me. She pulls me close and disappointment floods my system. I have two real friends in this town and I just lied to one.

  I hate myself for this. I loved him and the lies I told myself when we ended were that it was for the best. Bryce wanted things from me I couldn’t give him. We were so hot and heavy in college, the world couldn’t touch us. Until I got into med school.

  Then what I thought was unbreakable broke within weeks.

  Seeing him brought it all back.

  He was the only bright spot in my life and then the world went dark, and I retreate
d, vowing never to let myself be hurt again.

  Now he’s here and all that I buried is right back at the surface. Once I remove Allison from the trial and find a way to convince her to do the right thing, he’ll be gone and I can go back to my life.

  I pull back, not wanting Martina’s comfort when I don’t deserve it. “I need to take care of something, okay?”

  “Of course. Let me know if you need my help. Just so you know, two more trial patients checked in.”

  I’ll deal with the Bryce and Allison thing later. It’s my job to be a doctor and treat the others who came to me. My issues aren’t important in comparison, so I’ll do what I’m pretty damn good at—putting them aside.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She heads out and I stare at myself in the mirror. I take a deep breath, reminding myself of the person I am now. “You are not the same girl you were. You’re a doctor, a friend, and a strong woman. No man can make you feel unloved and unworthy. You can do this.”

  It’s been many years since I’ve had to utter those words aloud, but I need them today.

  I head to the room of the second trial participant and pray I can avoid seeing Bryce. Luck has never been my friend, though. As I place my hand on the door of my next patient’s room, he exits Allison’s room. Our eyes meet and I see the conflict in his blue eyes.

  My pulse races at the sight of him, but I remember he’s not mine and he doesn’t know me anymore. I guess he was right, that girl died fourteen years ago when he let her go so easily.

  I turn my head, and enter the room to do what I was put on this earth to do.

  After the remaining patients are registered and have the instructions for tomorrow, I sit in the on-call room charting notes. There is one patient I have to release, due to her scans coming back outside of the trial range.

  I enter her room and she looks over with hope in her eyes. “Dr. Adams? Hi, I’m so excited about this trial and . . .”

  “Lindsay, I got your scans back and I have a few concerns,” I say as delicately as possible.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I step closer, hoping to ease her tension, but there’s nothing that will comfort her. Telling her that the tumor has grown again and that this chemotherapy won’t help is a devastating blow.

  My emotions are on shut-down mode. I’m not Serenity Adams, daughter, sister, friend, and kind-of-sort-of-girlfriend. I’m Dr. Adams, world-class surgeon and kicker of cancer’s ass. I don’t have feelings, just facts.

  “The scans show that there’s no way I can save the ovaries, even with this treatment. The tumor has grown and I’m afraid I need to schedule you for surgery immediately. If I find what I believe I will, you won’t be eligible for the trial anymore. I’ll have to perform a full hysterectomy. I’m very sorry.”

  Some doctors follow up with more, but there’s no point. Most people only hear the first sentence, so I try to give the bad all at once.

  The hope that was in Lindsay’s eyes is gone and is replaced with tears. They fall as the words I spoke start to sink in. “That’s it? There’s no chance? My uterus too? This is the end for me, isn’t it?”

  “It’s not the end. I’m still going to do everything I can to fight the cancer, but most likely the scan isn’t showing the whole picture, so I have to go in surgically to determine and deliver the best course of action.”

  I will fight to the end with her.

  “I can’t afford . . .”

  “Hey,” I stop her. “You’re my patient and there are a lot of things we can look into. I don’t want you to worry about that. My nurse Martina is very good at getting financial help for patients.”

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she admits with tears in her eyes. “How do I tell my fiancé that . . . that I won’t be a complete woman anymore? That I can’t carry our kids?”

  I make a mental note to help her find a support group and counseling as well as financial help, if it comes to that. Lindsay is twenty-six years old and it’s possible she’ll have a complete hysterectomy if I find what I believe I will. I can’t imagine having to make this choice at her age.

  “Believe me, this isn’t what I want to do, so if I get in there and it’s not what I think it might be from looking at the scan, I’ll take what I have to. We will have our reproductive team there in case there are any eggs they can freeze, and then you could at least have a surrogate, but I want you to be prepared for whatever the possibilities are.”

  Most of my patients have already had eggs harvested, but Lindsay wasn’t one of them. She couldn’t afford it, but since I’m going in, it won’t be considered an elective procedure. If I can get anything for her, I will.

  “The possibilities have ended,” she says looking out the window. “I don’t care. Take it all.”

  I take another step closer, place my hand on her shoulder, and watch her lip quiver. “I’m going to do what I can, okay?”

  She nods.

  “Why don’t you call your fiancé and family? I’ll schedule you for tomorrow morning and give you some time to talk to everyone.”

  A tear falls down her cheek and my heart breaks for her. “I really hoped . . .”

  “I know. I did, too.”

  Of all the patients I met today, Lindsay was one I most wished I could help. She’s young, and I thought her case would show the most promise. Most of my patients are in their late thirties to early forties, married, and some already have kids, but Lindsay doesn’t. This could’ve possibly given her the life she envisioned.

  Lindsay doesn’t look back at me. She stares out the window with tears streaming down her face. I pat her arm once, and quietly leave.

  Feeling helpless sucks.

  I walk to the nurses’ station and fight back my own wave of emotions. Today has drained me in so many ways, but seeing the pain and devastation in Lindsay’s eyes was the icing on the cake. How can this job be so rewarding and utterly heartbreaking at the same time? When it’s good, it’s great, but when you have to deal with the ugly parts . . . it’s too much.

  “Schedule Lindsay Dunphy for exploratory and possible hysterectomy surgery tomorrow morning at eight, please,” I tell the surgical nurse on the desk. “Ensure the reproductive team is available as well. Also, she is to be removed from the trial.”

  My phone dings with a text.

  Westin: Are we still doing dinner?

  Shit. I look at the time and hunger hits me in the face. I didn’t even realize it was past eight and I haven’t eaten a thing all day. The last thing I want to do is see Westin tonight. I haven’t even considered what it will be like seeing him. I’ve never lied to him, and it’s not something I’m looking forward to doing now if he asks about my patients. I’m not ready to talk to him about what all of this means.

  Coming face to face with Bryce has brought up everything from my past and I worry that I can’t do this. On the other hand, how the hell do I cancel on Westin after dinner . . . and whatever more came with it . . . was my idea?

  My life is a shit show.

  Westin put his neck on the line for me and I owe him this much. I’ll have to find a way to put my crap aside.

  Me: I’m leaving in a few. Your place?

  Westin: I have a pizza waiting.

  Me: Great. I’m starving and today has been stressful.

  I’m hoping he reads the warning and will understand if I’m not myself.

  In so many ways, today has been awful. But it’s not over yet. I have one more blow of bad news to deliver. Putting Allison off is wrong, and I need to deal with it now. My chest tightens because this isn’t medically necessary, but it’s mentally and—at least in my head—ethically required. Treating her, lying to her, and knowing that I might not be able to be objective, is never going to work.

  There’s no easy way to do this. I’m going to have to look her in the eye and tell her that I can’t treat her, and let her husband explain why.

  I put Lindsay’s file down and start to walk toward Allison’s roo
m with heavy feet. Dread fills me with each step I take and I wonder if I can really take her out of the trial. Can I walk in there and admit that I’m too weak to do the right thing and tell her the truth about my relationship with her husband? Will she understand that what she asked of me is impossible now? I know in the pit of my soul that this is the right thing, but then why does it feel wrong? I stop walking, press my back against the wall, and breathe.

  Damn it. Pull it together, Serenity. You have to do this. You don’t have a choice, because you know this will ruin everything you’ve built. It’s a conflict that will keep you weak and unable to give her the care she needs.

  I’m weak when it comes to him, though.

  I always have been.

  I always will be.

  There is a line and I can’t cross it. I made the choice years ago to let him go, and I have to do it again.

  Pushing myself off the wall with the determination to get this over with, I gather all my strength to say the words. When I turn the corner, I come face to face with Bryce, and all my plans disappear.

  I gasp with my hand over my pounding heart. The years and distance have done nothing to stop the ache that seeing him causes. Having him here right now has brought that to the forefront. Looking into his blue eyes stirs things inside me I never thought I’d feel again.

  My life has been steady since I left Duke University. I had to make a choice that day, and I chose to come home to my mother and attend med school close to home. When I did that, it was the end of my love story with Bryce.

  Sure, we tried for a few months, but absence didn’t make our hearts grow fonder. I closed the book on us and when I needed him most, he wasn’t around.

  Now here we stand, with the pages flipped back, and I’m reliving it all over again.

  “Bryce,” I breathe his name and try to get control of my pulse.

  “Chick,” his deep voice practically croons my name.