Doctor's Orders (Complete Series)

by Lilian Monroe

  36

  Clay

  I watch Val walk away with her friend and my chest feels like it’s being ripped to shreds. I can’t move, I just watch as she is taken further and further away from me with every step. She walks down the stairs to the subway and out of view.

  The second her blonde head disappears down the steps I feel like collapsing onto the ground. The world is spinning around me. I can’t breathe. I want to run after her, to explain, to tell her how I feel but my feet are like lead. I can’t move.

  What would I even say?

  How can I explain to her that she’s different? I told her friend I was breaking the rules for her but that was just a pickup line. I never meant it. I never broke anything for her.

  Ever since I’ve met Val my life has been better. I stand motionless, watching people streaming in and out of the subway when all I want to see is her.

  I cling onto a sliver of hope that she’ll run up the stairs and into my arms, just like the first day. As the minutes tick by, the hope slips away and darkness floods my veins. My heart is cleaved in half and the pain is too much. Just as I’m realizing that she’s what I want, she’s taken away from me by my own stupid actions. I haven’t even looked at another woman since the moment she walked into my office.

  Why would she be so upset? I didn’t even know her when I slept with her friend.

  Still, I get it. Over the past couple weeks we’ve spent every moment together, and I’ve opened up to her like never before. When I told her I was breaking my rules for her, it’s because I have been breaking my rules for her. I wasn’t trying to make her feel special in some superficial way, I was trying to show her that she is special.

  I turn around and walk the other way. I’m practically stumbling away from where I was standing. My chest feels like I’ve been stabbed with a ten-inch dagger. I let my feet take me wherever they want to and I wander aimlessly through the busy streets. Everywhere I look I see happy couples holding hands or kissing or laughing together. There must be a convention of happy couples, or otherwise the universe is laughing at me. It’s a slap in the face.

  I didn’t know I wanted her and now I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s slipping through my fingers because of my own inability to keep my cock in my pants.

  I’m still wandering aimlessly. I don’t even know where I am, I don’t recognize any of these streets. I just keep thinking of her face when she realized how Emma and I had met. My head hurts, my chest is in pain. I’m tripping over my feet. I need to get her back. I can’t lose her like this.

  And then, all of a sudden, I’m angry. This is why I have my rules. I never wanted to feel like this, to feel like my heart was ripped out of my chest. This is exactly why I never got attached to women. She just walked away from me and wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say.

  It’s like the time we spent together meant nothing to her. The connection we had, how easy life felt for the past couple weeks, that just got thrown out the window for what? Because her friend was mad we had a one night stand before I even met her? Because she thought I would call her back but I met someone better? How is that supposed to be a bad reflection on me?

  If her friend had the wrong idea about the both of us, that’s on her, not on me. And if Valerie won’t listen to me then that’s her problem.

  You know what, screw her. I didn’t need her before and I don’t need her now. If she’s going to throw this away so fast, without even hearing me out, then she doesn’t deserve my attention at all.

  I make my way back to my apartment and slam the door behind me. I stand in my apartment, chest heaving and fists clenched. It’s quiet, too quiet in here. My anger evaporates and my shoulders slump. I open the fridge and grab a beer, drinking half of it in my first swig. The beer doesn’t even touch the sides of my mouth as it goes down. I wipe my lips and put the bottle down.

  I look at the sofa and think of Val sitting there, with the sun streaming through the window making her hair look like spun gold. I can see her there, laughing at one of my stupid jokes. Everywhere I look I’m reminded of her here and how much better it felt to be with her.

  I finish my beer and shuffle to my bedroom. I collapse onto my bed and hate how cold it is without her in it. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Her smell still lingers on my pillow and I throw it on the floor in frustration.

  This isn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wanted her to come to Seattle with me and now she won’t even look at me.

  One part of me wants to turn around and never speak to her again, and another part of me want to run to her and make her understand how special she is. I stare at the ceiling, paralyzed and confused.

  37

  Valerie

  I’m stuck between my best friend and the one man I feel a true connection with. Emma is here, comforting me, but I can’t listen to her. If I go back to Clay, Emma is hurt. She’s been my best friend for years and I can’t imagine my life without her in it. If I don’t talk to Clay…. I can’t even finish the thought. I feel like I’m on the edge of an abyss whenever I think of my life without him. We’ve only known each other a few weeks but I’ve never been so happy, so complete.

  I feel a sharp pang of jealousy every time I think about Clay and Emma sleeping together. She told me they had a connection. I can still hear the excitement in her voice when she told me about them. What was it she said? ‘The craziest, most animalistic sex of her life’?

  It’s like a stinging pain in the depth of my chest when I think about him having a connection with someone else.

  Leaning back on the couch and carefully avoiding eye contact with Emma, I try to think about it rationally. At the end of the day it was before I ever met Clay–not that it makes me feel any better. I’d rather just never think of him with any another woman ever, let alone my best friend.

  He and I have been inseparable ever since we met. If I could just talk to Clay, if he would just be completely open with me, I think I could get past him and Emma sleeping together. It was a one night stand, after all.

  “I can’t believe he told you the same bullshit lines that he told me,” Emma is saying, shaking her head and sipping her tea. “You’re better than him.”

  A sigh escapes my lips. Maybe she’s right. He said the exact same things to me as he did to her, and he was probably just waiting for some other new girl to come along, and he could use those lines on her too.

  I look at Emma and think of how hurt she was when Clay didn’t call her back. She liked him, even after one night. Maybe that’s all that’s going on with me too. Maybe this crazy connection I thought we had is nothing more than me falling for his charms.

  But then I think about lying together in bed with our arms and legs intertwined and our bodies closer than possible, talking about nothing and everything. I think about the way he cooked me a romantic rooftop meal when he’d known me for three days. Surely that counts for something?

  I wonder if she would forgive me if I wanted to be with Clay. Would she stand between us? She’s always had my best interests at heart, but then again, I’ve never been interested in the same man as her. I would be heartbroken if this ruined our friendship.

  What kind of woman am I if I just run right back to him? If I choose a guy over my best friend. I shake my head and lean against Emma. She wraps her arms around me and I sniffle, blinking back tears.

  “I’m sick of crying,” I say, wiping my eyes.

  “I get it,” Emma says. She smiles sadly at me and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Val.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” I answer, shaking my head. “It just feels like everything’s fallen apart. I don’t know what to think of him, or us, or him and you, or any of it.”

  I close my eyes. He couldn’t even say anything in the restaurant, couldn’t explain or defend himself or even tell me that he cared about me. He just stood there like a statue with a guilty, shocked look on his face. The tears prickle at my eyes again and now I’m crying. He
aving, shuddering sobs rip through my body. Emma wraps her arms around me and I cry on her shoulder.

  I pull away and look at her, trying to search her face for answers. I see none. All I see is concern in her eyes, and a certain hard edge. She’s mad, and I don’t know if it’s directed at me.

  “Thanks for bringing me home,” I say, breaking the silence. “I think I’d like to be alone now.”

  She looks at me and I can’t tell if she’s hurt or understanding. Her face crumples but she nods and leans in for one more hug. We stay like that for a few long seconds and I cry into her shoulder a little bit more.

  “Is there anything I can do before I go?” she says into my hair.

  “No, thank you,” I say into hers.

  She gathers her things and gets ready to leave. When she gets to the front door she pauses and then turns around and comes back to stand in front of me. She takes my hands in hers and looks me deep in the eye. I desperately don’t want this to come between us. She means everything to me.

  She’s standing there like she’s about to break up with me and the thought of our friendship ending over something like this makes my heart hurt even more than before. I can’t lose both of them, not at once, not today. Finally she opens her mouth to speak.

  “Val, I care about you. You’re my best friend.” She pauses, and I look at her through tear-filled eyes, waiting to hear what she wants to tell me. She looks away from me, staring at my carpet with fierce intensity. Her voice is strangled when she speaks again. “I’ve never seen you like this, not even when you and Bryce broke up. Even then, you weren’t this upset. You were more resigned and a bit relieved.”

  She takes a deep breath and continues to study my rug like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. When she looks up her eyes are filled with tears and I feel my heart thumping.

  “Look, at the end of the day, what you and Clay have seems to be special. I saw the way he looked at you before he saw me. He didn’t even see me at the table until I said something.”

  The tears are streaming down her face and I can’t help but cry as well. I’m sick of crying, but it feels good to cry together. If she could see it too, then maybe it was really there. Maybe Clay does care about me the way I care about him. We’ve only just met but the connection we have is different, deeper somehow. Maybe.

  “Val, I,” she hesitates, looking away from me again. “I was jealous at the restaurant. I saw the guy who rejected me and he was all starry-eyed for you. I hate to say it, but I was jealous. And now I’m seeing you in so much pain and I can’t, I won’t be the person who does this to you. I care about you and I know how you’ve been talking about him. About how much he means to you even after such a short amount of time.”

  She takes a deep shuddering breath. “I think that a connection that strong shouldn’t be thrown away. He and I hooking up was a one night stand, and at the end of the day it meant nothing. I thought we clicked, but all we had was a fleeting mutual attraction. He never looked at me the way he was looking at you. Not even close.”

  I’m crying for real now, sobbing as she talks to me. Her words are like a healing balm. She saw it too. She saw the connection between Clay and me. I’ve always been able to count on Emma and once again I’m glad to have her as a friend. She looks completely composed, except for the tears streaming down her face. Her red lipstick is somehow still perfect.

  “I could sit here and tell you he’s a jerk and a user and to forget about him, but I don’t think that’s true. I saw the way you guys looked at each other and I think it’s too rare to just toss it away. You should talk to him and see what he has to say. It’s rare to meet someone that you click with, it’s worth giving it a shot. If he really is an asshole, he’ll push you away and move on to someone else.”

  She stops talking and looks at me with her tear-stained cheeks. She purses her lips. “And if you’re prepared for that to happen, then you should talk to him.”

  I love this girl so much. I lean over and give her another hug, burying my face in her curls. She wraps her arms around me and I can feel that she’s trembling. In her arms I stop sobbing and squeeze her a bit closer. We pull apart and I look at her face.

  “Emma,” I start. “Thank you.”

  She shakes her head and I stop talking.

  “Val, I watched you suffer for the past four years with that asshole ex of yours. I’m not going to be the one who makes you suffer more by standing in the way of you and a guy who seems to genuinely care about you. I’m not saying jump back in his arms, but just know that I support you no matter what.”

  I nod, the words catching in my throat. The relief I feel is immense. I’m not going to lose a friend and a lover. I have a chance.

  “Plus,” she says, wiping her eyes and looking at me. She sniffs her nose and takes a deep breath. The corner of her red lips curl up into a grin. “I would never be the one who stands in the way of those earth-shattering orgasms you’ve been having.”

  My sobs turn to ugly, sobbing laughter and she laughs along with me. She grabs a tissue and hands it to me. I wipe my face off as best I can and Emma gives me another hug.

  “I’m going to go now. You’re my best friend Val, I’m not going to lose our friendship over some guy.”

  “He’s not just some guy,” I say with a slight smile.

  Emma raises her eyebrow. “Until he shows me that he deserves you, he’s just some guy to me.”

  I’ve never been happier to have Emma as a friend. She grabs her bag and turns toward the door. Her curly head disappears and she closes it softly behind her, and then I slide the lock closed. I lie back on the couch and close my eyes, breathing deep. I don’t know what to think.

  I get up slowly and peel off my clothes. I get in the shower and turn it on as hot as I can stand. I stand under the steam and water and let it wash me clean. My mind clears as I wash myself from head to toe, taking my time and enjoying the feeling of the water and steam and soap.

  Stepping out of the shower, I dry myself off and wrap my hair in a towel. I grab my robe and wrap it around me, snuggling into its fresh warmth. I feel better. I dry my hair with the towel and hang it up, going over to the kitchen to make myself some more tea. I’ll take the afternoon and evening to myself to watch a movie and order some pizza. I look at my phone on the coffee table. Maybe I’ll text Clay, if I work up the nerve.

  I just need some time to calm down. I need to breathe, and process what’s been going on.

  Just when the kettle starts boiling, I hear a knock on the door. I wrap my robe around me tighter and tie it off at the waist. I walk to my front door and open it.

  “Hey,” he says. His eyes are rimmed red and his clothes are crooked, his hair disheveled.

  “Clay,” I say, standing frozen in shock. “What are you doing here?”

  38

  Clay

  She’s wearing a bathrobe. Her hair is wet and she has no makeup on. My voice catches in my throat when I see her. She looks amazing and all I want to do is wrap my arms around her.

  “Val, I need to talk to you.”

  She’s standing at the door and slowly steps aside for me to walk in, closing the door behind me. She runs her fingers through her hair and pats down the sides of her robe and then looks up at me. I have to stop myself from taking a step back from the strength of her stare.

  “Did you mean the things you’ve been saying to me, about being different? Have you just been telling me what I want to hear?” Her voice is strained, and her eyes look like she’s been crying.

  “No! No, definitely not, Val…”

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I want, I need to make her understand that it’s been different with her. In a couple weeks she’s made me reevaluate my entire life, my priorities, my goals. Having her near me has changed the way I think. I don’t know how to put that into words and I just stare at her, speechless. She waits for me to talk and then sighs when I don’t.

  “Would you like some tea? I’ve just boiled
some water.”

  “I, uh… Sure.” That’s a good sign, right?

  She walks by me into the kitchen and I turn around. Her apartment is small and cozy. I can’t believe I’ve never been here. For some reason she always came to my place. It feels so much more intimate here.

  She has an old couch that looks comfy and a flowery rug that dominates the room. There are eclectic hangings on the wall in a sort of boho-chic kind of way. It’s styled in an effortless kind of way, but I can tell lots of effort has gone into decorating. I’m staring at a framed poster of Andy Warhol’s Marilyn when I hear her come back from the kitchen. She’s holding two steaming mugs and sets them down on the coffee table. She sits down on one end of the sofa and I take the other.

  We both take a sip of the hot liquid in silence. I still haven’t found the words to say anything. She’s staring at me with those blue eyes and I simultaneously want to look away and want to get lost in them. Finally she breaks the silence.

  “Since you won’t start, I will. Clay, it hurt me to hear that you’ve been feeding me the same lines as all your other girls.”

  “Val! It’s not like that, I—”

  She puts her hand up and I stop talking.

  “It made me feel like what I felt between us was a lie. It made me feel like opening up to you was a mistake, and that you were just using me for sex. I know that you’re leaving, you’re going to Seattle, but I just thought… I don’t know. I thought we had something different between us.”

  “We do.” Finally I can speak, I’ve found my voice. I lean in toward her, putting my mug down on the table. “Val, these past few weeks with you have been happier and more exciting for me than the past few years combined. I’ve been working so hard and avoiding any sort of relationship so much that I didn’t know what I was missing. Until you.”