One Hot Doctor by Sarah J. Brooks
Chapter 14
Thomas
I love the quietness of Saturdays at work. We don’t work weekends at the clinic, but some days like today I come in to tie up loose ends. Besides, Cora and I have no solid plans today, but she was meeting Fran in the afternoon for some shopping. I’ll probably invite her for dinner at my place. I work steadily for a couple of hours, completely lost in my work. I update patient records and add notes where I hadn’t.
My phone buzzes with a call, breaking my concentration. I glance at the screen, hoping to see Cora’s name; instead, I see my sister’s. I’m sure she’s calling to get all mushy on me after spending the afternoon with Cora. You can’t not love Cora; she’s authentic and funny. And my sister is one of the friendliest human beings I know. The only downside is that she talks too much, but I have nothing to hide from Cora, so that doesn’t bother me much.
I’m happy for Fran. She’s always had this thing about having a sister. When I introduced Tessa to my family, Fran had immediately declared that she had a sister at last, and true to her word, they had become closer than biological sisters.
Then the accident happened. Losing Tessa had been devastating for everyone. I push away the maudlin thoughts and focus on the present.
I pick up the call. “Fran.” My smile is evident in my voice.
“Thomas, I don’t want you to freak out. Cora and I had a small accident, and we’re on the way to the ER at City Hospital South.”
My blood goes cold. There’s no small accident when a woman is pregnant. “Cora?”
“She’s okay except for a small bump on the head.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I say tersely.
I grab my car keys and sprint out of my office. So many thoughts go through my mind as I drive to the hospital, which is at least ten minutes away. I wish I’d asked Fran for more details. A feeling of having relived this experience comes over me. Tessa. I fight the comparison, but my thoughts are winning. I recall the phone call that no one wants to receive.
I had been at my office when the call from a strange number had come. The man on the other end introduced himself as a policeman and confirmed my identity. He then told me that I should hurry to the hospital as my wife had been in an accident and was seriously injured.
I immediately knew the severity of the situation as the police did not use words like seriously injured for no reason. I arrived at the hospital reception and didn’t even get to go into the ER. A doctor appeared and took me to one side, and as gently as she could, told me that Tess was gone.
My Tess, who had been happy and cheerful that morning, they were telling me that she was gone. It didn’t seem possible. Even after seeing her lying peacefully as if she were napping, it still didn’t seem real.
Life ended in a heartbeat. I knew that, and I knew the pain that came with it. In seconds, my life went from full to empty. The house we had lived in became too big, and everything I looked at reminded me of Tess. Her favorite chair and blue cushion that she loved to hold like it was a treasured object. When I entered the kitchen, I would be frozen to the spot as I visualized her cooking and singing tunelessly.
The bed was the worst. In the space of a day, it became too big and too cold. In the middle of the night, I would reach for her when I was half asleep and when I came up empty, I would wake up to search for her. Then I would be hit by the kind of pain that feels as if someone is slicing you open without anesthetic.
Then the realization dawned that I would have to live the rest of my life without Tessa, and it seemed like such a long time. I had come very close to giving up. I remember that dark place I had been for years and shudder.
I’ve been a fucking fool. I’ve tasted pain, and it almost pulled me in permanently. I know what it feels like to miss someone so much it renders you completely useless, unable to move or do anything.
I know why that pain is dilapidating.
Love.
When you love someone to the extent that I loved Tessa, you leave yourself vulnerable to that kind of pain if something happens to them. Like a fool, I’m doing it again. I’m allowing a woman to capture my heart, knowing full well that I cannot survive a second loss. I can’t fall in love with Cora. I have nothing left in me to give her, but more importantly, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her.
I reach the hospital and sprint from the car to the ER. I see Cora seated alone, and I rush to her. She sees me and stands up. Wordlessly, I take her into my arms.
After a moment, we draw apart, and I peer into her eyes. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“I’m fine, just a small bump at the back of the head, but it’s been checked out, and I’m okay. The baby is okay, and so is Fran. She’s getting checked out. She insisted they see me first.”
Fran also remembered Tessa’s accident.
We sit down, and Cora tells me what happened. Apparently, a young man had been texting and failed to stop at the stop sign. He rammed into them from the back but luckily, he had already started applying the breaks, thus lessening the impact.
Cora seems different. Detached. She folds her hands across her chest. We sit wordlessly as if we’re strangers rather than two people expecting a baby together.
I’m in turmoil, but one thing is clear. Getting close to Cora again has been a mistake. This accident, which could have turned out so differently, is a warning. A warning to protect myself. Cora is dangerous for me. I’m already in so deep, but there’s still room to escape. I handled the whole thing wrong from the very beginning, and I feel like punching myself.
When she told me she was pregnant, I should have accepted responsibility and supported her but not slept with her. I was kidding myself into thinking that I could have sex with her and keep my feelings in check. For the last few weeks, I’ve even allowed myself to fantasize about a life with Cora and our baby. I’d forgotten the pain of loss and of leaving yourself vulnerable to another human being.
Cora is a great person. Any man would be lucky to have her. I’m just not that man. Somehow, I have to stay away from her. I was lucky to manage to crawl out of that dark hole once. I can’t handle anything like that again.
Fran and Martin come out of one of the cubicles, and Cora and I stand up.
“She’s fine, and so is the baby,” Martin says. “That asshole is lucky that he walked free,” he says hotly. “Are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”
“I’m sure,” Fran says.
“I’m glad you’re both okay.” I wish I could be more comforting, but I just want to get out of the hospital. I feel as if the walls are closing in. “I’ll drop Cora home.” I take her arm and propel her out of the ER.
Outside, she shakes my hand loose and marches to the car. I unlock it and open the door for her. I’m expecting her to say something on the way, but she remains tight-lipped. It’s painful to see her like this. I wish that I could soften the tension between us. I want to ask her what the matter is. Maybe even take her upstairs to her apartment and hold her in my arms. But what would be the point of that when I intend to back off and create some space between us?
I bring the car to a stop outside her apartment. “Are you okay?”
She turns to me, and my heart constricts with pain at the sad, haunted look on her face. My protective instincts rise to the surface, and I fight to push them away.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she says. “Thanks for the ride home.”
I should say something, but I don’t, and she gets out of the car, and without looking back once, she hurries to the building entrance. Ten minutes after she disappears inside, I’m still in the same spot.
***
I’m glad when Monday rolls around. Yesterday was the longest Sunday I’ve had in a long time. Cora and I did not speak at all, which is what I want, but it took every ounce of energy I had to fight against calling her.
Work is a life saver, and I’m glad that I have appointments back-to-back today. Every so often thoughts of Cora will sneak into my mind, and I’ll find myself wondering what she’s doing.
In the afternoon, a knock comes on my door, and I call out for the person to enter. It’s my secretary, Brenda. She’s holding a printout.
“Remember the three-day conference in Carlsbad at the end of the week? You never gave me a definite answer on if you’re going or not.”
I search my memory for the conference that she’s talking about. It comes to me. The topic is reproductive health and fertility. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say no, but before I do, a thought pops into my mind. Staying in LA is torture. I can’t stop thinking about Cora. Knowing how close she is makes it harder and harder to stay away. I hadn’t planned on attending that conference but now two days by the beach is sounding very attractive.
“Book me a room. I’ll drive down.”
Brenda looks surprised, but she doesn’t comment. She simply nods and then leaves my office.
Before I settle back to work, my cell phone rings, and my heart takes on a faster beat. My first thought is that it’s Cora. Disappointment washes over me when I see my mother’s number on the screen. That feeling is immediately followed by guilt. I answer it and try to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.
“Mom, how are you?”
“I’m fine, son,” she says and proceeds to update me on what she and my dad have been up to. Calls with my mother are never brief and to the point. She takes her time before getting to the reason why she called.
“We want to invite you and Cora for dinner on Friday. Your father and I would like to see more of her. She’s going to be the mother of our grandchild after all.”
I’m glad that I don’t have to lie to her. “Can’t this week.” I tell her about the conference and sort of imply that Cora is busy too. We agree to arrange some other time, and we hang up.
That’s another problem I’ll have to deal with. Explaining to my parents where Cora is and making up excuses why we can’t be one big happy family.
