“I'm not feeling too much like standing in the public eye tonight.”
“You're not?” I felt his gaze stick longer than two seconds. I couldn't make eye contact. It would all be over if I did. The only thing that kept my body from straddling his was the seatbelt. Even the gearshift would be easy to take down, if I had to.
“I've been doing some soul searching.” I slowed down, making sure to inspect every word. Once they fell out, there was a no-return policy. “I ran down some reasons to ask Wesley to stay. The ones that I came up with were overshadowed with one big motivation to let him go.”
As I said it, I noticed we had pulled into the banquet hall. Mark parked the car, turned off the ignition, and focused on what I was saying. I rubbed my leg, conjuring up the courage to swallow my fear and continue. As my head turned and I saw his face, I found the courage in his eyes. “I want to be with you, Mark.”
Tension drained from my body and my spirit lifted from years of suppression.
“Amy, I can't tell you how long I've wanted to hear you say that. I want you, too.”
I backed up, before he could think it was time to rejoice. “I'm not a notch, Mark. I've only been with two guys. One was a complete mistake and the other one was Wesley.” He doesn't fall in the mistake category?
Mark took my hand. I pulled it away, needing to state my expectations. “What I'm saying is that I'm not white driven snow, but I'm not a pit stop on the way to your next quest. I don't perform tricks, I'm not sexy, I'm probably boring, I—”
He stopped my rant with a long, wet kiss. I didn't feel the center console as my body lost all pressure and went limp. I closed my eyes and fell twenty floors from the ledge I had been trapped on for many years. The slowness of his tongue inside my mouth. It was a serving of nirvana. One hand rested on the back of my neck and the other one on my chest. I hoped he wouldn't get electrocuted from the surges of current from my heart. A moan managed to get trapped inside my seduced vocal chords. My body was entranced, until a loud knock hit against the car window.
Glen Shupe was shaking a finger saying something. Mark straightened himself as I fluffed my hair and pulled down my dress. Foreplay was new to me, and I wanted to become its best friend. Mark opened his door.
“Man, it starts in five minutes. You better come on.”
Mark looked over at me. “I'm ready, I'm ready.” Let me just take a comb to my hormones, because they are standing on end. By the way, we'd like a seat somewhere in the back. Dimly lit, preferably.
We walked in holding hands. No longer a pretend, forced custom. It was the beginning of how it was to be. A few thoughts of Wesley in the hospital bed stole my attention. I spent a lot of time cursing out rebuttals of how he had left me, had wrecked his car as a man who had practically asked for divorce. I had the letter to prove it. Worn from wear, I had it memorized. My permission slip to act the way I wanted tonight. The morality police could get off my back and out of my head.
We took our seats and fidgeted like new lovers, biding time until we could go home and fondle one another in private. That daydream brought up more than giddiness inside me, and I couldn’t wipe this silly smile off my face. I had turned into a prisoner of love, in search of some alone time with my doctor. The image made me blush.
Mr. and Mrs. Willis tried to make small talk, but I only had eyes for Mark. He couldn't keep his hands off me either. If he didn't have his hand rested on top of mine, he was kissing it. Mrs. Willis looked pleased with our touchiness. It made her even happier when they announced Mark's name as the new Chief Resident of Neurology.
I stood up and kissed him before he took the stand at the podium. When he mentioned me as his inspiration for the prestigious accolade, the last solid piece of my heart melted. The evening would go down as perfection.
Chapter Fourteen
After the announcement there was a slight intermission. The waiters began serving dessert. White cake with chocolate icing, or apple pie with a slightly melting scoop of ice cream. My hormones had gobbled up my appetite, and I wasn't hungry for anything but more physical contact from the new Chief Resident. Mark politely pointed to the cake the waiter held and took a bite with his hand that wasn't interlaced in my fingers. I hoped I wasn't sweating all over him. I kept putting some air in the space of our palms. The thought of us alone after this event was so exciting.
A few of Mark's colleagues dropped by the table to congratulate him. His smile was infectious. I was so happy for him. I started eating the dreamy chocolate frosting from his cake, when I noticed Mark set his fork down on the table and take his phone from his jacket pocket. Evidently, it had been buzzing. After he looked at its screen, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Wesley is awake.”
The news stole away both the night and my breath. Every touch, every smile, all of my happiness flushed away with the weight of Wesley's name. A sleeping past that now had to be dealt with. I grabbed my purse and checked my phone. Maybe Mark was wrong. No, there were two missed calls from the hospital on my screen. What now? Certainly, I was relieved he was awake, but how was he going to be, now that things had changed?
“Mr. and Mrs. Willis, Amy and I have to go. I just got a call from the hospital. A coma patient has just regained consciousness.” I stood up. My legs shaking, unable to bear the weight of my body and my reality.
“All right then. Amy, you take care of yourself. I hope to see you at the next picnic. Mark, take care of her, and you all drive carefully.” She pulled me down and gave me a peck on my cheek. I envied how her life was so cemented in reality and happiness. There was no lie where her role of a wife was. It was all figured out.
Mark kept his arm around my waist as we walked out. It somehow didn't feel as natural as before the phone call came. Seconds ago I was a determined woman. An educated woman. The subject was life, and I finally was learning how to get the most of it. Now, I was married. Married to a dissatisfied husband probably waiting for me to return. Knowing he had no one else. How could I? After knowing how lush the grass was on the other side. Mark and all he had to offer me was gone, now that my old life was calling me on the phone. Screw that crippling shoe, I found my size and I want to keep it.
“Is he all right?”
“Doctor Malloy wrote that all of his vitals were strong, his speech is good, and it's looking like a full recovery is expected.”
It seemed like Mark was driving slow on purpose. “Amy, maybe you should wait to see him. Let me check him out. Let him figure out if he wants to see you.”
“What? That's absurd. I realize he left, but we're married, Mark. It wasn't roses and hearts, but we loved each other in some way.” Let me correct that, shall I? “What I mean, is that we made a mistake for why we got married, but it was him and me in the mistake. Good, bad, and ugly, we were in it together. And we'll leave it better people. Changed people. I feel good about it, Mark. I was upset at first, but I think he was right.”
I grappled with another thought. “Mark, I don't want to introduce you as anything more than his doctor, if you don't mind. I'm not denying what I feel for you. It's just in poor taste, I feel, that he wakes up and finds how much has changed right off the bat. Do you understand?” I pray you do.
“That's fine, Amy. I wanted to say that…”
We had wasted enough time in the parking lot. My courage was looking for the nearest exit. If I didn't get in there fast, it might escape me completely. “Mark, I'm too freaked out. I have to get in there now.”
I pulled the door open and quick paced myself to the elevators. Mark followed close by, combing his fingers through his hair until he was a human static conductor. “Let me go first.”
“Amy, I have to check him. He's my patient.”
“All right then. But don't talk to him. I need to see where he's at with all of this.” I stepped off the elevator, almost jogging.
In five strides, I was at his door. I closed my eyes briefly and said a quick prayer. After the edge of the door swung open, I held my breat
h and looked inside. Wesley was seated in an upright position. My appearance seemed to stun his new state of consciousness. “Amy?”
I walked closer. My heels echoed on the floor tile. Nothing and everything flashed in my head at the same time. Do I hug him? Do I shake my finger at him? Did a coma negate his last evening before the accident?
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Finally had enough rest? Ready to wake up and join the world?” I had briefly forgotten Mark was standing in the room. Probably because he stayed at the sink in the far corner.
He seemed as weirded out as I felt. His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out of it. “What? Did it render you without speech? It couldn't have. You just said my name, Wesley.”
I saw he wasn't actually looking at me at all. I turned behind to see what held his attention. A short girl, with long dark hair and beautiful eyes stared back at me. “I'm sorry, do I know you? Do you work here? Oh, do you need his arm for vitals?” I haven't been here a week and they already have a new set of nurses.
“No, I'm not a nurse, I’m a visitor.”
I didn't get it. Visiting who? Was the poor girl lost? Was she an amnesiac from across the hall, wandering room to room, looking for someone to visit?
“Amy, this is Violet. She's here to visit me.” Nice to know he found his tongue.
Violet? I didn't remember any Violet from the law firm. Weren't visiting hours over? Like two hours ago? Did she not own a watch or have respect for the hour?
The girl didn't move. Perhaps she chose not to step in the murky water that was filling up the room fast. I looked back at Wesley. He seemed to have found his “oh shit” look. All that time asleep and he could still put the right look on to fit the occasion.
“She's my good friend.”
“Good friend? Is she a colleague from the firm?” What's with the special enunciation of “good?” Did he hit his head harder than we imagined and now he needs speech therapy?
“Not exactly. I met her during one of my conferences in San Diego. She lives there. I was on my way to see her when, I guess, I had my accident.” He touched the arm that had the IV in it.
I tried to take the bits and pieces and string them into something that made sense. Instead, a lightning bolt hit me between the eyes. Wesley was leaving me and going to this chick's house. That would make the chick Wesley's reason for leaving. It sucked to be the only one who was without their copy of Discovery of Marriage Wreckers for Dummies. I needed a life preserver. Someone who could keep me from drowning in all of these revelations. All of these betrayals. I turned to find Mark. I knew he was there somewhere. Why wasn't he checking his patient? Helping me?
“Mark?” My needful eyes searched his. Sending subliminal messages to save me. Was there a loose connection? Delay in response time?
He walked over to me and touched my hand. He then turned his attention to Wesley. “Wesley, I'm sure you're ready to get out of here. Let me take a look at you.”
He pulled a lighted instrument from the wall and shined it in Wesley's eyes. I couldn't feel my body. The room was moving in slow motion. What was happening? Was Mark trying to sign off on the discharge papers so that Wesley could get out of our lives, and we could start new? Wesley's admission still had my thought processes in a choke-hold.
“Are you Wesley's doctor?” Violet walked around me to stand by her man. She had the audacity to take Wesley's hand during the examination. I felt like the odd man out. The size of the room began to expand, and I was getting pushed toward the door. Was no one recognizing I was still there? Hello, wife in the room. I'm still here.
Mark pulled up Wesley's other eyelid. “Yes.”
I barely heard his answer. Was I losing the ability to function? Did I need a hit from the oxygen tank? Could my legs manage to walk me out of here? I didn't need to stay any longer. Five years of complete sacrifice should about square me up. It seemed my replacement was more than willing to take over from here.
“Dr. Reilly?” The home-wrecker walked to the other side of the bed and hugged Mark. “How could I ever repay you?”
Mark was quick to answer, pushing her away gently. “No need to thank me.”
My posture slumped and my eyes squinted. I felt sick. I couldn't bear to witness anymore of my life as I became erased from it.
“You went above and beyond your duty. To find my number on his phone and call me. Do you know how many hospitals I've called in the last week? No one could tell me anything. I was sick with worry. Thank you for taking the extra time.” She hugged him so tightly, I could hear his breath exhale from his body.
What? Mark called her? On Wesley's cell phone? Betrayal? Party of two? Mark looked at me. I ran out.
“Amy,” Mark yelled. I could hear him running after me.
I pulled open the door to the stairs and began running down. My heels cooperated perfectly with my plan of escape. It was almost a success until Mark caught up and pulled me by the arm. “Stop running and listen to me, Amy.”
My head ached from its spinning. “Don't touch me, Mark.” I stopped and stood up on the same step as him, pushing him closer to the wall with my free hand. “Since when do doctors confiscate cell phones and call girlfriends? But a more important question is, at what point this evening were you going to tell me that my husband was cheating on me? Maybe after I slept with you? Or I know. It would have been perfect timing after I told you that our only problem was that Wesley and I shouldn't have been together from the start. But we still had a marriage. Do you even realize the guilt I had to overcome by admitting that I wanted you? You knew about what's-her-name and you still made me go through the motions? You might be Chief of Neurology, but you'll never be mature enough for a real relationship. It takes honesty. You made me look like a fool. Like I had some kind of power in leaving my husband. It was never my decision. And everyone knew but me.”
“Amy, I didn't want another dose of vengeance from you. I was going to tell you. But, when you told me that you were choosing to let go of your marriage, I wanted it to be your decision. I wanted you to want me. I didn't want to be chosen by default because he had cheated. I wanted you to want me because you loved me. By the time you told me you did, how was I going to say I found his mistress?”
“What made you even think he had a mistress?” I backed up from him, waiting for his answer.
“I thought about when my dad left my mom. He had eighteen years to do it, but it wasn't until he had a girlfriend that he felt he could survive without her. So I checked Wesley's phone and called the number that he had fifty missed calls from.”
“You make me feel so stupid, Mark.” I started to cry. He moved closer and I stepped on a lower step to get away from his pity. “Amy was such a terrible wife that it was a sure bet that he had someone on the side to endure the marriage. That's what everyone was probably thinking. You just did the legwork to prove it was true.”
I wiped a tear that had snuck down my cheek. “I was the only schmuck at the party, right? Thanks for letting me in on the secret in front of all the main characters. My marriage was a lie and so are you.”
I broke from his grip and ran down the last two flights of stairs. He ran after me, but the chase was over when I jumped in a cab and sped from the scene.
Chapter Fifteen
“232 Fairfield Avenue, please,” I said, in a shaky voice.
The cab driver pulled down the meter and drove away from the hospital, leaving the coup behind me. Never did I feel so betrayed. The disloyalty of Wesley with Ashley stung like a thousand bee stings. Wesley leaving me for the new chick was like jumping naked into a field of thorns. But Mark's underhanded part in it pierced my heart, leaving it to bleed out completely. Hope of a second chance was diminishing with the minutes that would lead to the endless hours of final separation from him.
The cab pulled along the curb to my house. I had forgotten to leave the porch light on, probably assuming Mark would be escorting me home. Not moving toward the right-hand side door to get out, I pulled a ten
from my clutch. Luckily I had that. The cabbie waited. I slid over to the other side slowly.
“Would you mind waiting until I get inside?” I waited with bated breath for him to turn from an underpaid cabdriver to a Good Samaritan.
“Lady, I've been dispatched. I have to go.”
So much for miracles. I opened the door and had barely shut it when the driver peeled out from my segment of the street. I looked right and left. Not a single noise except for a barking dog two houses down. Refreshing to know their alarm system was working. Barking dogs were as calming as women screaming, “Help me!” If the scent of “scared shitless” was easily detected by muggers, I would soon have visitors.
I edged my way to the front door, trying to not draw attention to my panic. My insides began to shake loose as the dog’s bark became louder. and I heard a chain-link fence rattle. My nervous hands dropped my bag. A trailer for the film, Weak Prey Walking flashed in my mind.
Before I knew it, a man appeared before me, a hoodie shadowing his face. The shine of his knife stole my breath and color. “Give me the bag and your rings, lady. Hurry up.”
The man waved the knife to get my attention. Flight or fight bit violently into the decision-making part of my brain. I was tired of living scared. Always wanting a chaperone to go home after dark. An image of Wesley even popped up in my mind. When did my life become such a bag of lies?
Suddenly, I clenched my teeth. The lion had been stirred. I wasn't going to be the victim anymore. My arm pulled back, and I snapped the cocky little SOB in the Adam's apple. Endorphins released and I, all of a sudden, had power. He doubled over slightly. That's when his larger endorphins spoke to mine and the telepathy wasn't welcomed. The look in his crazed and half-maimed eyes told my courage to retreat. I began to run.
The mugger grabbed at my shoulder, knocking me off balance. I screamed, which in turn, hastened him to get the job done. He swung me around and punched me in the face. I saw birdies dance around my head and tasted blood. This was not as easy as it looked in the defensive training videos I was forced to watch at work. I reached out to poke at his eyes and his knife burned a line in my arm. He took my bag from the pavement and fled when porch lights started turning on down the block.
Waking Amy (Amy #1) Page 20