Mad Mad Love ~ The Remembrance Trilogy: Complete Box Set Holiday Edition

by Kahlen Aymes

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the image in front of me. It was a bunch of locks on a fence over a river and at its center, and the camera zoomed in a particular one adorned with a light green ribbon. Ryan & Julia was engraved in cursive silver with May 26 written in the same font, one line below it. It was our wedding date.

  I sat up straighter in the chair and examined the picture more closely. The focus on the lock blurred the background, but a young woman, dark hair blowing in the wind was standing further down on the fence. I’d recognize that profile anywhere. The Eiffel Tower rose in the distance. Now I knew where she’d been all this time. My face turned hot as fire.

  “Ryan, honey, are you all right?” Louie asked. “You’re so flushed all of a sudden.” She reached out and touched her cool, boney fingers to my forehead then my cheek.

  I looked at her face briefly as I registered her voice, but didn’t really hear what she said. My eyes returned to read the headline. The Locks of Love by Julia Matthews.

  She’d never written for the magazine before, but that wasn’t what shocked me. I snapped the issue shut and placed it on top of the desk, rising and shoving my hand around the back of my neck.

  “I gotta go back to work,” I said with an abruptness I couldn’t quell, and jumped from the chair.

  “Ryan, you look ill. Sit down.”

  I shook my head. “No, thank you, Louie. I really need to go. Have a good night.”

  She looked puzzled when I turned to leave and called after me. “Okay. Bye-bye, dear. Don’t take so long to stop by next time.”

  I walked on unsteady legs as I made my way to the backside of the hospital, not sure why I hadn’t thought of it before this. So that was that? Julia wasn’t coming back? Not for months at least. Meredith had finally gotten her way and shipped her halfway around the world. Blood pounded in my veins so loud I could hear it rush in my ears, and it only made my head hurt worse. She used our problems to pick up where she left off last year. The bright lights down the long hallway I was striding through blurred, and looking at the floor, I walked faster, unsure what the fuck I was going to do next.

  Two days later, I’d done nothing but work straight through by choice. I didn’t even care that Jane was there. I just didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to stop and think. I felt betrayed and abandoned by the person who promised me forever, and now, I didn’t give a rats ass if I had one more day, let alone forever. She didn’t love me or she wouldn’t have done what she did. The words bounded out in my head over and over again.

  We were busy and I was thankful, but I was running on fumes. It was the weekend, and we had a lot of drunk driver accidents, more of the gang fights, and a guy who accidentally nailed his hand to a two by four. He was calmly sitting on the table telling us about how his brother-in-law took a jigsaw to the wall to cut out the chunk of wood he was nailed to. He sat in front of me with a nail through the back of his hand and the wood still attached. I ordered IV fluids just in case he went into shock. It would hurt like hell to remove it. I stared at it, carefully turning his hand trying to determine if it would hurt less to try and remove the wood first or see if I could push it up enough to cut off the head of the nail on the top of his hand. Either way, it had to be pulled through.

  “I can take it, doc.”

  My eyes met his without wavering. “It’s going to hurt like a mother when this comes out. I think we should sedate you.”

  The dude was huge; bald with long stringy sideburns and big beer gut. He was sweaty and smelled like dirty socks. “Look man,” he protested, “I wasn’t sedated when this fucker went in, I ain’t gonna be sedated when it comes out.”

  This dickhead was a glutton for punishment, but whatever, I was too exhausted to argue. I put my hands up in resignation. Whatever, asshole. “Fine. I warned you.”

  Kari and another nurse, Nancy, assisted. While Nancy was unwrapping some of the surgical tools and assembling the materials for the sutures, I took Kari aside, whispering so only she heard me.

  “Stinky over here will be squealing like a pig in about ten minutes, so have a syringe of morphine handy.”

  She held back a giggle and nodded her head. “Got it.”

  He was at least two hundred fifty pounds, and I doubted that Kari and Nancy together weighed that much. The brother-in-law was still in the room, and I asked him to help hold his friend down after we strapped his arms and legs on the table. I had him lean all his weight across sweaty guy’s right shoulder while Nancy got the choice job of leaning across his thighs. I pushed on the wood side to see if I could ease it up enough to get the pliers around it and not pull out chunks of his skin.

  “Doc, why don’t you just saw off the wood? Take it off in pieces around the nail?”

  “It isn’t safe. I’m not going to risk cutting your hand in half. This is going to take a while.”

  I pushed hard on the wood and clamped around the nail head with the pliers, pulling on with subtle pressure. I needed to raise it up enough to get the cutters under it to remove the head. I’d then grab the wood and yank it out as fast as I could. The man hissed and bucked on the table as I worked to get enough space to slide the instrument in. Sweat started to bead on my forehead. We all had on gowns, gloves, and eye guards, making it hotter than a sauna. It was a tight fit, but I finally got the clamp on it and began to manually turn the small round blade, like cranking a can opener. Slowly, it began to grind through the metal shank of the nail.

  “Fuckin’ A! That hurts like a bitch!” The patient began a steady stream of cuss words. I kept cranking, the muscles in my arms straining with the pressure I had to use to help the blade go deeper into the metal, and my fingers getting numb from holding the instruments so tight for so long. Finally, the head of the nail popped off into the hand Kari had positioned to catch it.

  I dropped the device on the metal table and tried to work the feeling back into my hands. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m golden.” I could see his bravado start to wan even if his words didn’t.

  “Last chance for juice.” I looked blandly at the fat guy in front of me. His machismo act was just making my job harder. “If you thought that hurt, it was like a kiss compared to what’s coming.”

  Sweat rolled down the man’s face in rivers, and his shirt was wet with it.

  Kari was washing his skin with iodine soap.

  “There is no shame in taking the pain meds. This is a nasty injury.”

  “I said, no, doc.”

  “Okay, hold him down. Kari, help Nancy.”

  I made eye contact with the man still lying across his chest, letting him know this was it. I was through screwing with this guy. If he wanted to be tough, I might as well get it the hell over with. I was too tired and too hot to keep fucking around. I wrapped my gloved hands around the wood block with the nail embedded in the center.

  “Okay, on three.” My upper body and back muscles flexed. “One!” I yanked with all my might, and the man screamed like I was sawing off his hand. The nail dragged through his flesh with a sickening suction when it finally came out.

  “You sorry fuck! You said on three! Son-of-a-bitch! Jesus!”

  I moved away, peeling off my gloves, and putting on a new pair. I was bored with this stupid jerk. Blood oozed from the wound on both sides, and I examined it. It looked clean.

  “My hand is on fire!”

  I looked at him, expressionless, my tone brooking no argument when I addressed the nurses. “Kari, apply topical on both wounds. Nancy, 100 mils morphine. The syringe is on the tray.”

  Her eyes got big and round. “What?”

  “I said 100 milligrams of morphine. Put it in the IV.”

  Kari looked at me and held up a hand to Nancy. “Doctor, may I speak with you for just a second before we get started?”

  She placed some items in the trash and I joined her in the corner of the room.

  “Ryan. 100 will kill him. 15 maybe, because he’s so big.”

  “Holy fuck,” I
murmured, the gravity of what I’d almost done hitting me hard. “I meant 10 mils.”

  She turned and held up ten fingers to Nancy, who nodded and placed the syringe in the IV port.

  I didn’t say another word as I sutured up the wound, and though unknown by anyone but me, my hands were shaking.

  Afterward, I ripped the gloves, mask, and eye guard off and left the room in search of Jameson. He was my attending and he’d decide if he’d take it to the chief of staff. I found him in his office and knocked lightly on the glass.

  He waved me in. I slumped into one of the chairs, my foot bouncing nervously. I felt weird, my hands were numb, and I was jittery like I’d just snorted a long line of cocaine and utterly exhausted at the same time.

  “Yes, Dr. Matthews? Still having trouble with Miss Cooper?”

  I shook my head. “I almost overdosed a patient.” I held up my hands and they shook like a leaf. “I can’t feel my hands, I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin.”

  Dr. Jameson put up a calming hand. “What was the drug?”

  “IV morphine. I can’t believe I just did that! I’ve never done anything close to that irresponsible before. Am I out of the program?”

  “Does anyone else know about this?”

  “Yes, two of the nurses. They caught it in time.”

  “So no one was hurt?”

  “No.” My knee continued to bounce rapidly.

  “Ryan, calm down. You’re overworked. How long have you been on?”

  “I don’t know. Since Tuesday evening?”

  “It’s Friday morning. So, no, you’re not out of the program, but you are restricted from working more than twenty-four hours. It’s irresponsible and the hospital would be liable. Are you on anything? Be straight with me.”

  “No! I don’t sleep,” I blurted. “I can’t… seem to sleep.”

  “Like I said, you’re overworked. I’ve seen it happen before. Your dedication is admirable, but go take a week off.” He pulled out a prescription pad, wrote a scrip, and leaned forward to hand it to me. I reached for it, glancing down at the words. “That’s an order.”

  “But…”

  “Ryan, stop talking before I reconsider keeping you in the program. You have a brilliant future ahead of you. Don’t screw it up. Fill that at the hospital pharmacy and go home.” He turned back to the report he was working on. “That’s all.”

  I felt like my ass was glued to the chair as I stared at him, stunned that I hadn’t just ruined my entire career. I finally stood and walked slowly from the room. I’d go to the pharmacy for the meds, but then I was heading straight to one of the sleeping rooms. I was still reeling from the knowledge my wife was in Paris, and I didn’t think I had enough physical stamina left for an hour on the subway.

  Suddenly, it hit me that I had an entire week at my disposal. A week where I couldn’t avoid the subject of Julia from bombarding my mind, and it all became so clear that I didn’t want to avoid her anymore. A slow smile spread across my face. With the help of the sleeping pills Dr. Jameson prescribed and the knowledge that, when I woke, I would get on a plane and get my fucking life back; I was going to sleep like a baby.

  It felt so good. I was floating and warm, and Julia was with me. Nothing could be more perfect. I could see her face smiling down at me, her green eyes all soft and filled with love as she looked into mine. Her hair fell in a dark curtain around her face, tumbling over her shoulders; tickling my neck. Her fingers pushed my shirt up, and I reached up to tangle my fingers in the silky strands.

  We were outside and the sun was shining; the vivid blue sky, dotted with fluffy cumulous clouds, created a brilliant backdrop. She was so beautiful and she smelled amazing. Her perfume wafted around me and I inhaled it deeper, wanting her very essence.

  “Baby, we have to go to class,” I murmured regretfully, sitting up slightly, my hand reaching out to pull on her shirt; only it was my T-shirt. It was almost summer vacation, and I’d be going home to Chicago and Julia to Kansas City. We’d fallen asleep in my dorm room late last night after I’d finally caved and told her I loved her. I’d wanted her for so long, and I regretted every second I waited. Pretending to love someone you don’t is hard, but pretending not to love someone you do… is fucking torture.

  She shook her head and bit her lip, grinding her hips down against mine. I was already hard, and I wanted to move with her, needing more pressure, my body craving hers. I sat up, my chin tilting, reaching up for her mouth, and my fingers curled up her thighs and then around her ass, pulling her tighter against me.

  “I’ve dreamed of this forever…” I whispered with my eyes closed. Her fingers slid up my arms and into my hair as our hips ground together, the fabric separating our bodies not hiding her heat or my raging erection. Julia moaned softly, and her breath rushed out over my face, her mouth hovering over mine. Any second now, I’d kiss her for the first time. “Since I first saw you, I’ve wanted to touch you like this.” I reached up to cup both sides of her face, then combed my fingers through her hair. I stopped moving when the hair in my hands was short; just hovering on her shoulders and thinner. Where was the luxurious, thick hair I’d dreamed about raining over my body? My fingers drew it out, mentally cataloging the differences.

  “Oh, yes Ryan… finally.”

  I sucked in my breath and pried my resistant eyes open. I felt like they were glued shut, and it took three attempts. Fingers pulled on the back of my head and wet lips slid over mine. It was unfamiliar, the mouth too lax, too sloppy to be Julia’s.

  “Kiss me, Ryan. I want you so bad.”

  I struggled to focus in the dark room, and finally, the voice registered in my sleepy mind.

  “What the fuck? Did you think I wouldn’t know you weren’t her?” I shoved the woman from my lap and scrambled up from the bed. She reached for me, but I backed away, stumbling until I was leaning up against the opposite wall of the tiny room. “Get out.” I put my hand over my eyes unable to stand looking at the woman I now loathed.

  “Ryan,” Jane began. “Just a second ago you wanted me.”

  “A second ago, I was dreaming about my wife!” I yelled at her. “What the fuck are you trying to do? Destroy my whole fucking life?” The sleeping pill was making my mind foggy and was hard to not fall on my ass. “I said, get out!” I hollered.

  She stood and closed the space between us, her hand coming toward me. “Ryan, you told me that I deserved someone to love me.” She started to cry in earnest. “You… said I was beautiful and desirable. I know you want me.”

  I flung her hand away in disgust and moved around behind her, opening the door to the room. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Jane! I said that in a subjective way, as in there is someone out there for you, but I sure as hell didn’t mean me! I don’t even believe that Daniel was in a relationship with you. He sure as shit didn’t act like it that one time I saw him in your room. You’re delusional!”

  She stared at me with wide, teary eyes, and I didn’t feel one pang of sympathy. I couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  “Please go. I’m half asleep. I need you to leave. Now!” I waved through the open door.

  She physically started when I shouted the word. “But you said… you said…” Tears tumbled down her face, the mixture of darkness and the light from the main room casting her face and body into shadows.

  “I said; I’m. Married!” I grabbed her arm and yanked her out of the little room, letting go of her like her flesh burned mine and horrified about what almost happened. “Do you know the damage you’ve done to my life?”

  “I saved you.”

  “Bullshit! You wrecked me, but I’ll be damned if I let it happen anymore. Stay away from me; stay away from Julia!”

  I went back in and slammed the door in her face, my chest heaving. I threw the lock in place and fell heavily on the edge of the bed, my elbows resting on my knees and both hands in my hair. I was physically exhausted and mentally shaken by what just happened, and the sleeping pi
ll made my eyes heavy. My heart ached that I touched Jane at all, that she was on my lap, grinding on my dick; even if I wasn’t conscious, I felt like hell about it. I hadn’t touched anyone but Julia since before I’d almost kissed her on the dance floor the night I got accepted to Harvard. I felt sick to my stomach and all the more determined to bring her home. She belonged with me, and I was through playing these games. From now on, I was going to follow my gut and not let my stupid, misguided sense of duty fuck up what was important to me.

  I moved to get up, anxious to get the hell out of there. However, my head was dizzy, and I helplessly sank back down. I wasn’t going to be able to get home until I got the meds out of my system. I lay down on my back, pulling the blanket over me and flinging my arm over my eyes. I hated the drugged-induced stupor that took me out of control of my body, but I was just so damned tired. I had no choice but to sleep it off.

  I rushed up the stairs from the subway, taking them two at a time. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I took the last five blocks at a dead run. Once I’d woken up enough to remember that I was going to find Julia, I started to formulate a plan. I knew she was in Paris now, but how would I find her? The magazine was the obvious starting point. No doubt, it was the job she was offered last year, which worried me enough to give me pause. Maybe she wouldn’t want to come home. I ran my hand through my hair and dug the key out of my pocket. I had to bring her home, no matter what her commitments were. Some things were more important than others.

  There was no getting around calling the magazine at this point, and I dialed Julia’s office phone on my way up the elevator. It went directly into voicemail, but it wasn’t Julia’s voice; it was Andrea, her assistant. My mind processed it. It meant it probably wasn’t planned. Given everything that had happened, it was the only thing that made sense. She was running from me, not taking the job for the job’s sake.

  Thank you for calling the office of Julia Matthews, Creative Director for Vogue New York. Julia is on assignment out of the country until further notice. For magazine related business, please contact Denise Schrader at 718-586-705. If this is an emergency, please contact Andrea King via my cell, at 212-867-9388.