Doctor O: A Friends to Lovers Romance

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Doctor O: A Friends to Lovers Romance Page 14

by Ash Harlow


  Why do I feel betrayed?

  Because in the past people have used my vulnerabilities and failures to humiliate me.

  It’s not as if I was tricked into joining O-Zone, nor has any of what I’ve written there has been leaked.

  So, why do I feel betrayed?

  Because Noah should have talked to me the moment he worked out that I was Zer-O.

  Noah didn’t trust me. He didn’t trust the way I felt about him, or that our relationship would survive if he told me his secret. The blade wedges firmly in my heart.

  I’ve reached the far side of the plateau while completing another circuit of my mind and returned to the start. Collect the money, don’t go to jail. Nothing resolved.

  The new track I approach dips sharply, veers right, then hard left, steeper again, a switchback corner. I’m up on my pedals, balanced, weaving through the trees, staying off the brakes. Momentum is my friend.

  Momentum remains my friend until I bank a corner, pump out, increase speed, another corner, and there’s a tree across the path.

  There’s that split second of realization that I’m airborne and this is going to hurt, before I hit the earth and pain explodes along every fiber of my body. I’m rolling down a steep slope, dropping when the slope disappears, hitting ledges, grasping whatever passes. The wind is knocked from me, but finally my flailing hands catch hold of something solid and momentum—my new enemy—ceases.

  I lie there, eyes closed, knowing if I could get into a crouch it would stop the spasm of my solar plexus which prevents me from taking in the air I so desperately need. But I can’t move. I’m on a ledge. It’s narrow. My body is wracked with pain. I’m not ready yet to open my eyes and inspect the damage I’ve done to myself. Eventually the spasm eases. My breathing is shallow at first because I’m not willing to trust my diaphragm not to spasm again.

  Finally, I have oxygen, and I have pain. My bike is below me, in a river. My cheek burns and I recall the pedal striking it as the bike and I parted company. I start at my feet, wriggling my toes. They work. I roll both ankles without pain. Finally, I’m brave enough to look at my legs. My pants are torn and there’s a little blood, but nothing life-threatening. My shoulders ache, as do the ribs down my left side, but it doesn’t feel as if anything is broken. Apart from my left wrist. That hurts like a bitch, and my hand doesn’t want to work.

  Lastly, I move my head, lick my lips. My mouth is filled with the metallic taste of blood.

  As far as accidents go, I’ve come out of this one pretty well.

  I reach into my pocket for my personal locater beacon and find it’s gone. My jacket is completely ripped down that side and the beacon and snack bar I always carry are somewhere on this mountain slope. My other pocket is still intact and I’m relieved to find my phone. Of course, there’s no signal.

  It’s snowing.

  I guess sunset is about an hour away.

  I’m an idiot.

  I don’t want to list all the things I’ve done wrong because that’s just going to fill me with despair and won’t do a thing for helping me out of this situation. I didn’t inform anyone of my intended route, and I’m woefully underdressed for the weather. Okay, so I am listing the things I’ve done wrong after all.

  Climbing back up to the track is out of the question with only one usable hand. Plus, I’m wearing bike shoes which I’m reluctant to remove because my feet will freeze. I peer down. It’s about forty feet to the river. Over to my right is an old landslide with fallen trees and enough new vegetation to make it appear stable. If I can crawl along to it, I should be able to work my way down to the river. Then it’s just a matter of following its path out of here.

  This is going to be easier than I imagined. Until it’s not. I crawl my way to the slip which takes an agonizingly long time. Every movement causes pain to rip through my body. My legs feel pretty good. Just bruised. But my shoulder and injured wrist and ribs are giving me hell. Progress down the slip is difficult and slow. At one stage, I lose my footing and my leg slips between two branches of a fallen tree and jams.

  Staying positive is the best form of survival so I breathe through the next wave of pain, then take my time freeing my leg. Unfortunately, the slip doesn’t reach all the way to the river bed and I have to pluck up the courage to drop the last six feet. It’s going to hurt and I don’t want any more injuries so I decide to drop and roll.

  I don’t want to think about it too much because I’m losing daylight and the snow is falling harder. I close my eyes, visualize a perfect drop and roll, count to three and let go.

  I scream with the pain as I roll over my injured ribs. I have my wrist cradled tight against my chest, but my elbow strikes a rock sending a flash of pain along my arm. The worst thing, though, is that I’ve rolled into the river.

  Now I’m wet. Lost. Injured.

  But I have water. That’s a good thing.

  The wreckage of my bike is close by, but there’s nothing I can salvage from it that will be of any use to me so I set off down the river at a careful pace. Every few minutes I consider whether I should be trying to find shelter, or trying to get out of here. I’m shivering, which I hope is from shock because if I become hypothermic I’m in deep trouble. I’ve already lost body heat on the bike ride because my inner core temperature would have lowered through perspiration, even though I felt hot.

  The shivering worsens. I decide I must find my bike. I’ll ride out. Then I remember my bike is broken. I can’t stop the shivering and I’m so, so, tired. I’ve no idea how long I’ve been walking along the river edge but it’s almost completely dark now and I’m slipping and tripping more often. Each jolt makes me shudder with the pain of my injuries.

  I decide to sit down for a while in the shelter of a large boulder. I hate the bitter wind, and my wet clothing. My shivering has become more violent. If I sit, I’m sure it will pass. And I’m tired. I’ll sleep for a while, then move on again.

  22 ~ Noah

  Every chance I get I phone Steffi, but she must have her cell switched off because it’s going direct to voicemail. I’m anxious to get back to her, constantly checking the clock because my shift finishes at seven.

  Six-thirty rolls around and Margaret comes through to tell me that Nicholas has been called out on SAR duty.

  “Can you keep going for a few hours?” she asks.

  Apart from wanting to get back to Steffi, I’m fine. “I’m probably good for another twenty-four,” I tell her. This is nothing like Dallas. I even get a break to have a sandwich. I’ve admitted two patients to hospital, but the rest have been patched up and sent home. Just another regular day at the office. We’ve got two people still here for observation, but nobody’s come through the door for the past fifteen minutes.

  Margaret and I meet in the break room.

  “What’s the story with the search and rescue?” I ask.

  “The Rescue Coordination Center got a signal from someone’s PLB. They’re not far away, but it was about an hour before sunset when the signal was picked up, and the terrain is rugged.”

  I glance out the window. “It’s still snowing. Whoever’s up there will be miserable. I hope they have good clothing.”

  “There’s a good chance they do. If they’re sensible enough to carry a PLB, they’re usually sensible enough to dress properly.”

  A few minutes later the hospital calls to say the overrun emergency department has quietened down and they can deal with any new patients. I check on the two people we’re observing. Both are keen to get home so I give them a final check and tell them what to watch out for when they’re home.

  Shortly after, I’m heading home myself.

  The house is in darkness and I have a disturbing image of Steffi sitting in a darkened room, ignoring my calls to her cellphone. I knock on her door, but there’s no answer. Checking the garage I see her car is still there so she must have caught a cab somewhere. I don’t have Terra’s contact details to call her and check if she’s seen Steffi. I go b
ack to the apartment and knock harder on the door, calling Steffi’s name, but I can’t detect any sign of her being there.

  I go upstairs and pour myself a glass of wine. The first glass goes to quench my thirst. I call Steffi’s phone again. Then I send her a message to tell her to call me when she’s home. I sit in silence, going to the window the rare times a car comes up the road. I have another glass of wine. Send another message. Replay the afternoon’s drama through more wine and more texts.

  I should have gone into town and looked for her before I started drinking. And then what? Joined her in a bar and had a jolly night out? No. If she’s ignoring my calls and texts then she certainly doesn’t want to do a pub crawl with dancing with me.

  My phone battery dies and when I stand to go to plug it in, I find my gait is unsteady.

  I open another bottle of wine. Plug my phone into the charger on the second attempt, and hoist myself onto the kitchen counter. I can drink here and watch for Steffi to come up the road. After the second bottle of wine I get the idea she’s probably staying with Terra for the night.

  I go through to my bedroom and find my laptop and do a search for Terra to see if I can find a phone number for her. But I can’t remember her last name. It’s something foreign.

  I’m drunk. A chill runs through me as I realize I’m turning into my old man. Now I hope Steffi doesn’t come home and find me like this. I take a long shower and start to worry. What if Steffi’s hurt. Or somebody’s accosted her. Or she’s found another guy to sleep with to see if …

  Nope. Not going down that road.

  I collect two bottles of water from the fridge and take them to my room. I lie on the bed and worry as I force myself to drink the water. Then I remember the SAR call-out.

  Returning to Steffi’s apartment I bang on the door. Maybe she came home while I was in the shower. Again there’s no answer. Her car’s still in the garage but I go in there anyway, as if I have to see it up close for myself. That’s when I see her bike isn’t there.

  Fuck.

  I phone Cam, and I’m really starting to wonder about my phone because, again, I’m not getting an answer. I call the hospital, but they don’t have any information.

  I’m pacing, drinking water, hating myself for turning to drink like my father. A helicopter flies overhead and I don’t know whether to hope that it’s for Steffi, or that it’s some rich person heading out of town.

  I feel utterly powerless. I don’t know where they’re searching, and I can’t get any information. I should be there, looking for her.

  Fuck, I’ve never felt this irrational in my life. I feel as if I’m losing my mind.

  It’s three hours before I hear a helicopter again. From the balcony, I can track its lights until it lands at the hospital helipad. Is it Steffi? Or is she tucked up in bed at Terra’s house? Wherever the hell Terra lives. Why don’t I know these things about the friends of the most important person in my life?

  I can’t wait through the night like this so I decide to go down to the hospital myself. I call for a cab but the office is closed. Fucking small towns. Uber has nobody in my area, so they’re all asleep, too.

  I try Cam one more time and, finally, he answers.

  “Is Steffi okay?” The question fires from me. I have no doubt now that the search was for her.

  “I don’t know. I’m at the hospital. She’s got severe hypothermia.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “She had an accident on her bike, went over the side of a mountain. She seems to have lost her PLB, but thankfully it activated when she fell.”

  “I’m coming down—”

  “They’re treating her—”

  “I’m a fucking doctor. I need to know that they’re doing it right.”

  “You can’t barge in down here, Noah. Stay where you are.”

  “Come on, Cam. I need to be there.”

  There’s a long pause before he speaks. “Fine. Come down.”

  “Shit, ah, do you think you can come and pick me up?”

  “Did that old heap you bought break down?”

  I should have said yes, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. “No, I can’t drive. I’ve been drinking.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Noah. Go to bed, and stay the hell away from my sister.”

  “I’ll walk—”

  “Don’t be a dick. Go to bed and sober up.”

  “Cam—”

  “No, listen, Noah. It’s after midnight. The hospital is closed. I will alert staff and security that you’re drunk unless you assure me you’re not going to come down here.”

  “You’re an asshole, Campbell.”

  “And you’re a drunk. Go to bed.”

  If I make trouble at the hospital I might as well leave town. Acting like a belligerent dick will only widen the rift in Steffi’s and my relationship. In the finish, I go to bed and it must be the alcohol combined with the stress of the day that actually puts me to sleep.

  The following morning I feel pretty rough on the inside, but the mirror tells me I look okay. I get down to the hospital and as I’m walking across the parking lot I see Cam coming towards me.

  “You are responsible for this,” he shouts at me.

  “Jesus, Cam, keep your voice down.”

  He might look like shit, but he also looks close to using his clenched fists. “What happened yesterday?”

  “Tell me how Steffi is?”

  “She’ll be fine. Her temperature is back to normal. She has a broken wrist, and a lot of bruising and cuts. Now, tell me what the hell is going on?”

  I push past him. I want to see Steffi for myself. “Nothing’s going on.”

  He grabs my arm. “You two had an argument. That’s why she headed off into the mountains without checking the trail she was going to ride, without checking the weather. She was wearing all the wrong clothing. Steffi doesn’t do that. She’s cautious. She respects the mountains. She could have died out there.”

  “I know that. Let go of my arm, please, I want to see her.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I’m next of kin. I’ve told the hospital that she doesn’t want to see you. They won’t let you in.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” If he’s trying to draw my temper to the surface, he’s doing a fine job.

  “Let’s not have any trouble, Noah. Steffi needs to rest. You know that.”

  I pull out of his grasp and return to my Land Rover. Cam’s still standing in the parking lot as I drive out, obviously waiting until he’s sure I’ve left. I go straight over to the medical center and phone the hospital. They let me speak to Steffi’s doctor who runs through her injuries with me and assures me that every treatment I suggest has been covered.

  I want to send her a text message but I’m worried Cam has her phone so I’ll just have to wait. I check on her again at the end of the day when I get home.

  I’m having dinner when my phone pings.

  —I forgot my parachute—

  I’m so relieved to hear from her.

  —Hey. How are you feeling? Can you talk? I’ll call you—

  —Cam’s here. He just brought me my phone. He thinks I’m messaging Terra—

  —He said you don’t want to see me—

  —Brothers! Thank god I’ve only got one—

  —I’m desperate to see you—

  —U too. Can you bust me out of here?—

  —I’d love to, but I’m not your doctor—

  —You kind of are… ;) —

  —I’m glad to hear it—

  —I have to go. I have visitors. I think they’ll let me out tomorrow. Can you pick me up? Cam’s driving me insane. —

  —Me too. I’ll pick you up—

  —xx ooo xx ooo—

  —Back atcha—

  23 ~ Steffi

  There’s a knock on the door and I expect it to be a doctor or one of the nursing staff because it’s not visiting hours. The door swings open. I look up, and it’s Noah. My
heart almost bursts with pleasure.

  “Hey, Noah,” I say. The sight of him makes all the emotions of the past few days rush to the surface. I blink back tears but do nothing to suppress my smile. That’s all for him.

  “Hey, Steffi. You look … broken.”

  I laugh and lift my arm to show him my red plaster cast that’s so bright I think it could be seen from Mars. “This matches my favorite dress. Get me out of here and let’s go dancing.”

  He presses his lips to my forehead, my bottom lip is swollen and has an impressive cut. “I brought you grapes.” He hands me a paper bag and sits on the bed. “Don’t look so disappointed.”

  “I was hoping you’d brought me clothes and my discharge notes.”

  “I did, and I brought you something else. Eat your grapes while I talk.”

  I roll down the top of the bag and offer the grapes to him, but he shakes his head. I can see why. There aren’t many in the bag and I’ve been avoiding hospital food. I pop one into my mouth. It’s delicious, and my mouth thanks me as the sweet juice bursts across my tongue. I make a sound of appreciation.

  “Shh. If you make that sound again I’m going to have to lock the door.” He draws a deep breath, and takes charge of me with one look. “I fucked up, Steffi—”

  “We fucked up.”

  “Eat your grapes.”

  “Okay!” I pick another one off the stalk and pop it in my mouth.

  “This has been a rush. Two months. But I’ve known you a long time, and admired you for that long, too. And while I’ve been away, you’ve grown into a stunning woman, inside and out.”

  I’m watching him, open mouthed, wondering what on earth is coming in this speech. He reaches into the bag, pulls out another grape and slips it into my mouth.

  “Chew.”

  I chew.

  “Another one. Keep eating. They’re good for you. All of them. There are only twelve.”

  “Okay. Who brings someone twelve grapes?”

  “Me. Eat. So, it’s only been two months, but it feels like forever in the best possible way. We’ve turned Isaiah into a home, and I’ve made some mistakes. But I want you to know that you complete me. I want you to know that you can trust me, and that I never intentionally betrayed you. We will fix that. And whatever bumps turn up in the future, we’ll smooth those out, too. I don’t want you to be my Zer-O, or my Plus 1, I want you to be my other half because you complete me, and I want to complete you. Are those grapes finished?”

 

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