There was no mourning for the baby I lost. Nathan wouldn't allow it. The whole incident was swept under the rug and never talked about again. Devastated and heartbroken, I vowed to never get pregnant again. When I think about having kids with Nathan, I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I've been on a strict birth control regimen since that day, unbeknownst to my husband. I would never want to bring children into this world with him as their father. I wouldn't wish my life on my worst enemy, let alone an innocent child.
Giving myself a mental shake, I glance up and realize the doctor is staring at me. Under his gaze, I feel exposed as if he's looking right through me to my very soul. His question still lingers in the air, and his left brow quirks up as he waits patiently for my answer. When I say nothing, his eyebrows dip in confusion. "Are you okay?" he asks softly.
As he takes another step forward, I can now see that his eyes are dark chocolate with flecks of gold. He's extremely attractive with strong features, and I can't force myself to look away. Long forgotten need and desire suddenly flood my senses as a shiver runs down my spine, and my fingers itch to touch the stubble lining his strong jaw. I'm very attracted to him, and it scares the hell out of me. It's too dangerous…for both of us. If Nathan would ever find out ---. I shudder at the thought, and it feels like I've been doused with a bucket of cold water. I know that my only option now is to ignore him. I'm very skilled at pushing people away; and, unfortunately, it's one of the things I'm extremely good at these days.
Smiling shyly, so as to not come off as a total bitch, I give him a small wave goodbye and leave the room hastily. I have to force myself not to run down the hall. Only after I'm a few rooms away do I slowly release a breath that I wasn't aware I was holding. I place a hand over my hammering heart. I'm completely unnerved and trying to get my bearings when I bump right into the back of Rosie, one of the nurses. "Sorry," I apologize quickly.
Rosie turns with a big grin on her face. She's an older woman with more salt than pepper in her hair, rich brown skin and a personality so bright it puts the sun to shame. I've known her the entire time I've been volunteering at the hospital and consider her a friend…maybe my only friend. "You look flushed, Avery. Are you feeling okay?"
My hand fans my suddenly warm face. I'm sure my cheeks are bright red, and that thought makes me blush even more. "Yeah. I'm just feeling very warm. Is the air conditioning broken again?"
"Nope." She shakes her head and chuckles. "You know, all the nurses seem to be complaining about it being so hot in here, and I think I know the reason behind it." When I raise a brow in confusion, she continues. "Did you just talk to Dr. Dreamy? All the nurses are getting flustered over the new doctor in the hospital today."
I realize she's talking about the doctor that was in Jacob's room…the doctor I just completely ignored. "His last name isn't really Dreamy, is it?" I ask.
She laughs. "No, but it should be." She leans in close as if she's about to tell me a secret. "His name is Max Harrison. He's the new pediatrician, and he just transferred here from Chicago." Her eyes glance over my shoulder, and a big grin creeps onto her face. "Speak of the devil," she mutters.
I turn in the direction she's looking and see Dr. Harrison standing in the hallway. His eyes are glued on me, and it looks like he's trying to decide if he should come and talk to me or not. I quickly look back to Rosie, and I can feel the blush rising in my cheeks once again.
"Yep. You're exhibiting the same symptoms as all the other girls today," she says with a knowing look. "If I was about twenty years younger…" Her voice trails off, and then she chuckles and shakes her head. "Too bad you're married, Avery. I bet you wish you weren't," she says with a wink.
"You have no idea," I mumble under my breath. When Rosie asks me to repeat what I said, I simply tell her, "I have to go." I glance at the clock on the wall nervously. I don't want to be late getting home, especially not after what happened this morning.
I run to the nurses' station, grab my purse from under the desk and hightail it out to the parking lot. As I walk quickly to my car, I can't help but question the mixed emotions flowing through me. Dr. Harrison is the new pediatrician. That means I will be seeing a whole lot more of him. I have mixed feelings about that fact. I'm happy that the hospital has a new doctor, but I'm confused and apprehensive about the way I reacted to him. I haven't been attracted to a man in a long time. In all actuality, I've been fearful of almost every man I've come into contact with over the past few years. My aversion to being touched and to men in general stems from years of abuse by the hands of my husband, but there's just something about Dr. Harrison that makes me feel like I could possibly trust him.
Pushing the thought aside, I climb into the car and start the engine. The clock on the radio flickers on, and I freeze. I'm running ten minutes behind. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I coast the car out of the parking lot. I just hope that I make it home before Nathan.
*
MAX
I never really believed in love at first sight. My father always preached to me growing up that he knew the moment he saw my mother that they would be together forever. They've been married for almost thirty years, so maybe there is some truth in what he told me.
I'd never had a moment like that where you just look at someone and feel an instant connection and imagine a future with them even though you don't know the first thing about them…that is, until I saw her.
I had been on my way to a patient's room when I'd first noticed her in the hallway. My heart skipped a beat, and I almost tripped after my legs suddenly forgot how to work. She was completely out-of-this-world gorgeous with a kind smile that would melt even the hardest of hearts instantly. That day I watched her from a safe distance as she interacted with the children, and it seemed like she had a kind soul to match her sweet smile. Since then, I've only caught glimpses of her in the halls, but never had the chance to say hi and introduce myself.
I've only been at the hospital for a week, but with orientation, meeting the other doctors and staff and getting acquainted with the layout of the hospital, I had barely gotten into the swing of things until today. I'd been kind of admiring her from afar, always hoping for an opportunity to run into her. And when I finally got my chance to talk to her today, I blew it.
I replay our encounter in my mind over and over. I wanted her to say something, anything really. I had an idea of what her voice would sound like in my mind, and I had been dying for a chance to finally interact with her. And then with complete and utter surprise, I watched the pretty brunette grin and wave awkwardly before practically running out of the room without saying a single word.
Perplexed, I stand frozen in place. Did I say something to offend her? I can't remember saying anything beyond normal conversation. But the look in her eyes when I had asked if she had any kids told me that there was a story behind them. I sigh and shake my head. Maybe I was just being too forward.
Finally getting the chance to meet her face to face did something to me. From a distance she had seemed almost like a mirage. Up close and personal she is everything I had hoped she would be and so much more. Sure, on the outside, she's obviously beautiful with long reddish-brown hair framing her pretty face and bangs ending just above a set of stunning blue-gray eyes. But in those eyes I saw something that made my heart pump a little faster. It was as if with one glance into them I could see an open book to her soul. One glance and we connected on some kind of level that I can't explain even though I just experienced it. A myriad of emotions appeared in that one look, and I instantly recognized one --- a deep and immutable sadness. Even with the smile on her face, I saw right through her. It's as if she's wearing an impenetrable mask for everyone else's benefit; but, for some reason, I can see through it.
Her guard was down in Jacob's room, and I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of her in her element, relaxed and natural. I watched her while she tucked him in, her delicate hands pulling up his covers and fluffing his pillow to make him comfortab
le. And then she looked down at him with the most serene and empathetic look. With the sun cascading through the window at her back, she looked like an angel standing in a heavenly beam of light. It gave me chills.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I venture out into the hallway. The girl's back is to me, and she's standing with a nurse named Rosie. I feel the strong urge to call out to her, but I don't even know her name. I was hoping that her ID badge would reveal what I was looking for, but it just designated that she's a volunteer with a photo. Anyone willing to volunteer their time in a hospital must have a heart of gold, and I didn't doubt for one second that hers was made of twenty-four karats.
I catch Rosie's stare, and her lips move as she says something. And then the girl suddenly turns and looks right at me. I feel the nervousness all over again, and I feel embarrassed that they clearly caught me staring. I want to go talk to her again, but something is holding me back. I'm suddenly feeling very nervous and awkward, and those are not typical feelings that I get around anyone, especially women. I'm not bragging, but let's just say I've never had a problem getting a girlfriend. Usually I am the one getting asked out. But when I'm around this girl, I feel like a bundle of nerves, tongue-tied and lucky to even remember my own name.
Before I can make another move or decide what I want to do, the girl looks at the clock on the wall, grabs her purse and flies out the door.
"Damn," I mutter. I definitely blew my chances today. I've never seen her interacting with any of the staff except for Rosie. Maybe they're friends and Rosie can tell me about this mystery girl. I'm desperate to know more about her, and I really want to put a name to the pretty face. I glance down to the paperwork in my hand. After my rounds are done, I'll find Rosie. Maybe she can shed some light on this situation that I feel I'm knee-deep in already.
*
After my shift is over, I walk to the nurses' station in search of the one person who can give me the answers I need. Rosie glances up as I approach. "Dr. Harrison," she acknowledges.
I first met Rosie in my orientation several days ago. She has a reputation from all the doctors for being phenomenal at her job. Besides the praise, what stuck out to me the most were the bright and colorful scrubs she had on that day and every day after that. Today, she's wearing bright green scrubs with a Scooby Doo print. I bet the kids just love them. "Do you know the name of the girl that volunteers here?" I ask her.
She lifts her gaze from a stack of papers and says, "You're going to have to be more specific. There are several volunteers, Doc."
"I saw you with her earlier. She has long dark hair." And the most gorgeous blue-gray eyes I have ever seen, I think to myself. " You two were talking just before she left for the day."
Her face scrunches up with a big grin, accentuating the wrinkles around her eyes. "Oh! You mean Avery Mason."
Avery. The name suits her. "Is she mute?" I blurt out.
Rosie chuckles. "No, Dr. Harrison, she is not mute."
My curiosity peaks. I wonder why she wouldn't say even one word to me. Maybe she's just extremely shy. "How long has she been volunteering here?"
"Oh, several years now I suppose. Since she was in high school." She taps her pen against the desk and smiles thoughtfully. "She's a total sweetheart."
She didn't need to tell me what I already knew. Just from seeing her in the hallways and with the kids I know she has a great personality.
"She's married," Rosie says cautiously. "But not happily," she adds in a quiet and tentative tone.
I raise a brow. "Did she tell you that?"
"No." Rosie hesitates, and I can see a pained look on her face. "She didn't have to." I'm curious as to what she means, but she quickly adds, "My shift is almost over. We can talk more tomorrow if you'd like, Doc."
I nod. "Nice to see you again, Rosie."
"Same here."
My legs feel heavy as I walk towards the exit. I’m no longer knee-deep in the situation. I'm barely keeping my head above the quicksand. I didn't know Avery was married. In fact, I didn't even think to look for a ring on her finger. I had been so mesmerized by being in the same room with her, that common sense just went right out the window.
As I get in my car, Rosie's words come back to me. She said Avery's not happily married. I wonder what she meant by that. I shake my head. It's not as if I even know Avery well enough to pursue anything with her, and I certainly don't need a workplace romance during my first week here. I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. In spite of that, there's just something about her that makes it seem there's more to her than meets the eye, and I desperately want to figure her out.
CHAPTER 3
AVERY
My stomach drops when I see Nathan's black BMW sitting in the driveway, and I curse the construction on the highway that delayed my trip home. I can feel my heart attempting to leap out of my chest as I park my white Mercedes beside his car. With trembling hands, I open my purse and find my anxiety medication. I pop two pills in my mouth and swallow hard. I can barely stand when I get out of the car. My legs are shaking as I attempt to make my way to the house. I stare at my watch. Every second that ticks by will only make it worse. Forcing myself to hurry, I will my legs to move faster up the steps to the front door.
Plastering a phony smile on my face, I walk into the living room where I know he'll be waiting. Nathan is sitting in his favorite leather recliner with his eyes glued to the clock on the wall. His three-piece tailored black suit looks impeccable, as always. The charcoal-colored tie is pulled loose from around his neck, and the first three buttons of his white linen shirt are unbuttoned. His blond hair is disheveled as if he spent some time running his hands through it just moments earlier. His expression remains impassive as he states, "You're twenty minutes late."
I can't tell yet if he's angry or very angry. There is a big difference when it comes to Nathan, and it can mean the difference between letting things slide or getting hit. "I-I ran into s-some traffic on the way home from the h-hospital," I stammer nervously.
He stands, and those light blue eyes that I have come to fear so much pierce right through me. "Maybe volunteering at the hospital isn't such a good idea after all, Avery."
Panic begins to set in. He can't take that away from me. It's the only reprieve I have from this glass and metal prison he calls our home. "It won't happen again," I whisper.
"Speak up!" he barks.
"It won't happen again," I say, louder this time.
He nods and walks over to me. I resist the urge to flinch under his gaze and touch as he leans in and gently kisses my forehead. "It better not," he warns. He pulls back and stares at me for a few seconds. "Well, I guess dinner is out of the question since you're ---." He pauses and checks his watch. "Twenty-three minutes behind. You're lucky I'm in the mood for Chinese tonight."
"I'll get the menu," I suggest, thankful for the excuse to get away from him.
"Change first into something a little more suitable," he says as he walks into the kitchen.
Nathan has a particular taste for the clothes I wear, and scrubs and sneakers are definitely not part of that particular taste. I rush into the bedroom and change into a beige shift dress. My hands are shaking as I zip up the back. He hasn't punished me for being late…yet. I close my eyes and take a deep breath and say a little prayer that everything stays calm between us until he goes to bed.
When I walk into the kitchen, Nathan is at the breakfast bar pouring a glass of wine. His eyes boldly peruse the length of my body. "Much better," he remarks before taking a sip from his glass.
My lips curl into a tentative smile, and I pull open a drawer to search for the menu. I try to steady my trembling hand as I offer him the tri-folded piece of paper. Instead of grabbing the menu, he grips my wrist and pulls me roughly against him. He stares down at me, his index finger gently grazing my cheek.
I swallow hard and wonder if, or perhaps when, he's going to punish me. Being with Nathan feels like constantly being trapped in a small room with a
venomous snake. You never know when it's going to strike, but you know it will eventually happen and that it will hurt.
"When are you going to let me make you an appointment?" he asks. I cringe inwardly. He always brings up the discussion of me having plastic surgery. In fact, it's one of his favorite topics. His eyes dart around my face as he silently picks out all of my imperfections that only he can see, that he always sees when he looks at me. "We could start small with some Botox around your eyes and mouth." His eyes drag down my form. "Definitely need some lipo," he mutters before sighing heavily. "It would take a lot of work, but I could make you better, Avery. I could make you beautiful."
His words slice right through me, and I squeeze my eyes tight to force myself not to cry. Nathan hasn't paid me a compliment since we first started dating when he used to tell me I was the most beautiful girl he had ever met. Since we've been married, his critiques of me get worse and worse. I would never go under anyone's knife, especially not his. I know I'm not perfect, but I used to be secure with my body image. I used to have a sense of self-worth and feel pretty. Now I find myself constantly keeping an eye on my weight, although I never fluctuate more than a few pounds, and the doctor tells me I should actually gain a few. And every now and then, when I'm in front of a mirror, I catch myself absentmindedly looking for the so-called flaws that Nathan sees on my face. My insecurities keep growing and adding up every time he brings up how much work I need to be his version of beautiful.
His fingers drift down to my left wrist, and I inhale sharply. "I wish you would let me take care of this scar. I could make a clean revision, making it more consistent and almost invisible when it heals." His thumb absentmindedly trails over the raised skin. "It would be as if it never even happened."
Saving Avery Page 3