Carlos: A Zambrano Family Novel

by Deici, Olivia

  I laughed and it angered her. Her eyes were nearly hostile. That sobered me.

  “I'm sorry, Cari.”

  “For?”

  “Hurting you. I had a lot of shit come up and I had a lot of shit to do.”

  It had been a miserable few days.

  Especially since I hadn't spoken to her.

  I'd fucking missed her.

  It was like the realization hit me. How could I not make time for a quick minute phone call to her, or more than just my two-second text?

  She shrugged. “Yea. So did I.”

  My eyes narrowed on hers, my arms itching to wrap around her.

  “I missed you, too.”

  She scoffed. “Then that makes one of us.”

  I walked over to her and brought my hand to her cheek. “Let's go to your place.”

  “I don't operate an hourly hotel, Los.”

  Fuck, what a dig. Damn she wasn't giving in.

  “It was a busy day. I have a few files left to make my notes.”

  I sat down, phone in my grip, and spread my legs wide to get comfortable.

  “I'll wait.”

  She shook her head. “I dictate my notes.”

  “And?”

  “HIPPA.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Cari. You're such a stickler for rules. It's not like I know any of your patients.”

  “How do you know that?”

  I stared at her blankly.

  “Exactly,” she said smugly. “You don't. And I'm going to make sure you don't.”

  “Here. Let's do this. Just click on their names on your screen. Don't mention their names. Then dictate your notes. That's a compromise.”

  She groaned.

  “I'm not leaving. Do what you have to do.”

  She placed her palm over her face. “I really don't have the fucking energy to argue, Carlos.”

  “Good. Neither do I.”

  She began dictating after leveling me a hard stare.

  “Patient is a forty-three year old woman. Family history is positive for cancer on both maternal and paternal sides. CBC panel returned high for…”

  Honestly, I didn't understand a lick of what she was dictating.

  “At which point, I requested a biopsy of…”

  And so it went on. Honestly, I half-listened to her. My woman was smart.

  And it turned me on.

  About an hour later, I heard her wrapping up and saw her collecting some paperwork. It seemed to me that she was done.

  “Dinner?”

  She sighed.

  “Fine.”

  15

  Carlos

  A week later I showed up at her office again. The staff waived me in as I smiled at them, flowers in hand.

  “She in her office?”

  The receptionist, Jill, shook her head. “If she isn't there-”

  “She's in an exam room.”

  That was my Cari. Workaholic.

  I looked at my watch- even approaching 7:00 PM.

  “What are you doing here so late? The others, too?”

  Jill shrugged. “We saw a lot of patients today. We’re catching up on paperwork and checking the electronic folders to make sure they're complete with orders. She’s finishing up with a patient. Why don't you go to her office and surprise her.”

  Grinning, I headed back.

  I gripped the Gerber daisies I knew she loved. I knocked just in case she'd gone into her office while I was in the front speaking to Jill. Hearing no reply, I let myself in.

  Cari had a large office, which had been an advantage on the two occasions she'd allowed it to be used for more than just appointments.

  Good sturdy walls.

  Solid desk with good height.

  I smiled, remembering.

  I'd had to really get her going. She was strict about her work space and professionalism.

  I was on my phone when she opened the door and squeaked, surprised to see me there.

  “Hey, Doc. I need a check up.”

  Her eyebrows rose as she looked at me.

  “I have this extremity that is always hard and tense for my girlfriend. It needs a massage.”

  She pursed her lips but I saw a hint of a smile.

  “Girlfriend, eh? You realize that you only have four extremities, right? And that it isn't one of them.”

  My lips twisted.

  “Caramelo, we've been together enough times for you to know that clearly, it's so big that it counts as a fifth extremity.”

  She couldn't hold her amusement and laughed. Her face transformed and the sound of her laughter literally made my heart stutter.

  “Quick. Come over here with your stethoscope. Your laughter is making my heart skip beats.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I'm serious, Cari.”

  The smile on my face was chased away by my suddenly intense feelings. Slowly, the smile on her face dissolved and she shifted on her feet. Her eyes focused on something on her desk and she wouldn't meet my eyes.

  Of course I knew that my Cari had serious skeletons in her closet. It wasn't until this very moment, though, that I truly came to know the extent of them.

  Emotions clearly made her uncomfortable. She kept people at a distance to protect herself. I didn't know how I would climb that wall, but if I had to take lessons in pole vaulting, I'd fucking do it.

  “Come. Let's get some dinner.”

  She paused for a moment, and then went to her desk for her purse. I walked around her desk and stopped her from busying herself in an effort to avoid the elephant in the room I’d brought in. Gently grabbing her hands, I brought them to my heart.

  “You're amazing.”

  She still wouldn't meet my gaze. I gently tipped her head back and her eyes were guarded.

  “Your laughter made my heart skip a beat. It infused my blood with a flood of pleasure and happiness I’d rarely before experienced.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as a rosy hue warmed her cheeks. My thumb rubbed a delicate circle.

  “I can wait, Cari. I can climb mountains, swim through the ocean, and parachute through the air.”

  She wouldn't open her eyes.

  “Just tell me there's a possibility.”

  Her silence hurt me. Then she opened her eyes and I felt hopeful. She reached up, wrapping her arms around me, and kissed me like her life depended on it.

  It was dejavú.

  And I realized another thing at that moment as our kiss grew steamy.

  A few things, really.

  She used passion, our passion, as a diversion- as a method to avoid feelings.

  Thinking back, a few things shocked me. We'd never made love. It had only ever been wild, crazy fucking. Well, except the last time we’d had sex during our one-night stand.

  And she had snuck out after.

  Every time I'd tried to slow things down and love her body since then, she’d push one of my hot buttons to drive me crazy and make me forget my good intentions.

  Fuck. Did she ever lose control? Was everything, including our sex life, methodical?

  Goddamnit.

  I realized another thing, too.

  As much as I loved being with her, I didn't want a relationship to be just this. Yes, we shared shallow emotions during sex, but I wanted the kind where I saw her soul in her eyes and the fire in her soul. The kind where our souls would meet and meld together. The kind where my heart yearned for hers in her absence until our eyes caught each other's again.

  I pulled away from her, and her gaze slowly cleared. Questioning eyes looked up at me.

  “What's wrong?”

  “I just realized a few things.”

  “That you really don't have a fifth extremity?”

  She laughed but I didn't. Her face grew serious and her eyes focused on mine.

  “Are you ok?”

  I shook my head. “We've never made love.”

  She snorted as she laughed it off. “Of course we have. Several times. Jesus. How big is y
our appetite?”

  “Stop deflecting, Caridad.”

  “Caridad?” She sneered. “We are serious.”

  “Yea. We are. You use sex to avoid emotions.”

  She laughed and turned back to her desk and threw her keys and purse on its surface. She turned back around to me.

  “Don't be ridiculous. Sex is emotion.”

  “Fucking has no emotion. That's why you and I haven't made love.”

  “You're splitting hairs.”

  “Sex and fucking aren't making love.”

  Her lips pursed. “The more you keep going, the more I think you're subtly calling me a slut. Yea, we had a one-night stand. Never had one before you. My sexual partners can be counted on one hand. I'd been in a relationship with all of them. And even if I had more lovers than one hand and hadn't been in a relationship with some of them, don’t freaking slut-shame. Men have casual sex all the damn time.”

  She crossed her arms. I’d hit a nerve.

  But now I was angry.

  “How dare you even think I'd ever fucking call you a slut, outright or implied. I don't give a shit who you've fucked before me, or how many, Caridad. I’m not the judgmental type.”

  I stopped for a moment and stared at her as it dawned on me. She fucking did it again. She deflected and I fell for it.

  “What?”

  She was annoyed. Her tone and face said it all.

  “You deflected again.”

  “What the hell is up with you and this fucking deflecting trip you're on?”

  My eyebrows raised.

  “You're bringing out that rebellious girl who had a foul street mouth and chip on her shoulder,” she snapped.

  “You mean you always had the chip on your shoulder?”

  I got her to crack a smile.

  “The truth has been staring at me all along.”

  The smile faded as quickly as it had come.

  “Jesus, Carlos, spit it out.”

  “You've never made love before, have you?”

  She threw her hands up in the air and groaned. “I wasn't a fucking virgin with you, Carlos. Wishful thinking on your part. I fucked before you, and I'll fuck after you.”

  I was in front of her in a second, my hands gripping her upper arms gently, but firmly.

  “Don't you fucking say that, Caridad.”

  “Say. What? It's the truth. I'm tired of you laying all this on me.”

  “Cari, look at your life with clear eyes! Everything you do is tailored so as not to get emotionally attached to anyone. Let's start with the basics.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “You have no pets. You don't even have plants.”

  “I'm too busy.”

  I nodded. “Yes. Which brings me to my next point- you're in an area of medicine where many patients die more often than in other specialties. No long term treating relationships.”

  She sucked in a hard breath. “That's cruel.”

  “But it's not untrue. You don't have long-term friendships or relationships except for Izzy. It's been a small miracle that you and I are still here, and I can say that it's mostly due to my perseverance.”

  “Then fucking leave if it's such a hassle, Carlos.”

  Her eyes were dark and guarded. The green specks I loved to see were gone. I stared past her anger and walls and saw fear.

  My hands slid down her arms to her hands and she fought me as I brought them up to my heart.

  “I’m not leaving. You want me to, to keep your heart safe, but I'm not going to leave. I'm trying, Cari. I'm trying. But you gotta help me, caramelo. You gotta let me in.”

  She continued to stare at me, barely blinking.

  “Having a connection with someone, making love, mi amor, is so much more than fucking. It's more than reaching your peak, turning over, and sleeping or leaving.”

  She looked away but I took her chin again and made her look at me.

  “Making love is worshipping each other's bodies. It’s loving every part of your beautiful body. It's not fearing that your partner will shun you if you make love without a shirt. It's allowing your partner to worship you without fear that he will reject you because of your perceived imperfections. You shouldn't have to worry about preventing him from touching the part of you that you keep covered. Your imperfections, real or perceived, are what make you, you. They are what make you perfect. For me.”

  My palm caressed the side of her face.

  “Making love is more than a meeting of bodies. It's a joining of hearts.” I grabbed her other hand when she'd pulled it out of my hands. “A merging of souls. It's reaching your climax and having it magnified because your partner reached hers. It's staring into the eyes of your lover and seeing her soul shine in a way no one else will ever see.”

  I brought her hands to my lips and kissed them.

  “That's making love, Caridad. I want to make love with you.”

  She was quiet for a moment.

  “I don't know what you want me to say.”

  And I knew then that she truly didn't know what to say. Had anyone ever spoken to her this way? Had any man ever tried to scale her walls? Had anyone ever tried to love her? To try and hug her through the outer layer of quills?

  I thought about her in the picture with the other man and felt myself grow jealous.

  Had he seen the real Cari? The Cari she kept hidden from all except from Izzy.

  “It's ok, Cari. We’ll take it slow. Ok? But tell me it's not for nothing.”

  It was quiet. She was gnawing her lips weighing whatever she was considering in her mind.

  “No sex until you're ready to make love. None. I won't let you prevent us from getting closer by allowing you to fuck and deflect.”

  “Don't treat me like a fucking child. Are you listening to yourself? You're a shrink now?”

  I kissed her hands again. “I'm not. I'm not a shrink and I'm not treating you like a child. You did a psych rotation in med school, Cari. Stand back and look at yourself. You avoid forming strong connections and feeling emotions. You don't see it now, but you will. And until then, we're not sharing our bodies again until you're ready for the emotion to accompany the act. I won't let you avoid anymore emotions with sex. Not with me, caramelo.”

  Her smile was genuine and she laughed.

  “Whatever. You think you can hold out?”

  The green flecks in her eyes were glittering again.

  “I know I can.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Yep. We will.”

  “So then, what do you hope to achieve?”

  “It’s all or nothing, Cari.”

  “Marriage? Come on, Carlos. We've known each other a few months.”

  I shook my head. “No. I want emotion. I want a connection. When we have that, then you're ready to make love, Cari. I don't want empty sex anymore.”

  She looked hurt. I didn't know whether she was aware of what she did or if her defense mechanisms were intentional. Cari was an insightful person, but even those with a great ability to see themselves accurately can have one aspect where they can't.

  I hoped Cari would come around and see that not everyone would hurt her.

  And I hoped that I would never make her regret that if she did.

  16

  Cari

  My feet shuffled as I walked towards my office. I felt like a freaking zombie.

  I was burned out.

  What a day I’d had.

  Month, really.

  Carlos and I still spent time together, but it was purely non-physical. Well, we held hands and made out.

  That was it.

  And it was hard as hell.

  I tried to sway him but he wouldn't budge.

  I'm not blind. I know there was at least a modicum of truth in what he’d said. It was what had kept me going throughout my childhood. When you hopped from foster home to foster home, you eventually developed coping mechanisms. Mine was deflection and emotional detachment. Carlos had been right.


  But I wouldn't admit it now. Frankly, I didn't want to. It was too much truth. Too much introspection for me.

  I was happy the way I was.

  And more importantly, I was safe.

  Let's see who would cave first. It most definitely wouldn't be me.

  Take me or leave me, I was fine with who I was.

  Back to my damn confusing day. Our office manager, Marcie, couldn't explain why my schedule had been cleared.

  “Am I being fired?”

  I'd expect for Dr. Woodrow to do it, if I was being terminated. He was satisfied with me, though. That much, I knew.

  I'd never worried about my job. I was one of the most sought after oncologists. My reputation in the medical community was stellar.

  Back to Marcie.

  Eyes wide, she viciously shook her head. “No, Dr. Zavala.”

  “Well you, Luis, and Rosie are the only other ones with access to that specific calendar. We don't have coverage for the patients if I'm out. We need special coverage.”

  I wasn't tooting my own horn, but my practice was highly specialized. My vacations had to be planned well in advance.

  That's why I never took one.

  That, and if one of my patience wasn't doing well, and was terminal- I didn't leave at all.

  And so I never took a vacation. I barely took days off.

  Marcie nodded her head, bringing me back to our conversation. She looked like she was keeping something from me.

  “You've an appointment in your office.”

  My eyebrows rose as I looked at my watch.

  “It's 7:30 in the evening.”

  She bit her lips. “It was a last minute squeeze in.”

  I sighed. It had been a long day. I was exhausted.

  God, I felt like I said this every single day- long day; exhaustion.

  The practice tried to tell prospective patients that I was booked, but I ended up accepting them anyway.

  I was stuck in a cycle of my own making.

  “New?”

  She shrugged.

  I turned away before I screamed. It was so unlike Marcie. I made to turn back when I heard chuckling, but continued on.

  If I stopped even for a moment, I'd fall on my face.

  Sighing, I opened the door to my office and involuntarily emitted a strange noise that could only be described as a squeak.