A Love Like This (48 page)

“I’m scared to go home. What if he doesn’t
want me anymore?”

“He wants you.” She was so mater-of-fact,
and I wanted to share her confidence. “You’ll see. As soon as you
get back, it will all be fixed, and you’ll hop off into forever and
have lots of babies. Looks like you’re mostly packed.”

My suitcase was open, sitting on the end of
the bed and visible through the doorway. “Except a couple things.”
I stopped to consider her words, and my mind reverted to the past
again to another time I was packing and feeling sick. A small smile
lifted my mouth, and my hand wandered down to rest on my stomach.
It was perfectly flat, but I’d only had one period since I’d been
here and it was only just spotting.

“Andrea… I’m pregnant.” Not… I could be, I
might be… I knew when it happened; the night after the gala; that
angry, passionate, amazing and horrible night. Right before I left
him.

She flashed a bright smile and jumped up to
hug me “That’s why you puked! See? Ryan did give you something for
Valentine’s Day!”

~14~

I had no idea what to expect when I found
Julia. Physically, I felt strange, like I was out of my body or
something. My arms had a weird tingling to them like they were
asleep; sort of numb, except I could move them, but then again, I
was exhausted from the flight. It was about six and half hours in
the air, but the time on the plane and in the airports made it more
like twelve. I tried to sleep on the plane, but couldn’t. From the
time I’d made the decision to go after Julia, until this minute,
was only eighteen hours.
Eighteen hours?
I repeated the
figure in my head. It felt like eighteen fucking years. The prior
six weeks seemed like an eternity. It was like I hadn’t seen her in
forever. This separation was the worst of our lives; it had been
the longest I’d ever gone without talking to Julia since we met.
Times forty
. But, who was keeping track?

I spent the whole flight thinking. I
couldn’t believe how blind I’d been about Jane. I began to see it
clearly around Christmas, but before that, I had no clue what she
was up to. Maybe my guilt just didn’t want to see the way she was
manipulating me. I still felt bad for her situation, but the
episodes at Lincoln Center and in the doctors’ lounge were big
wake-up calls.

Julia and I were another story. I’d been
wrong, but bottom line, she didn’t trust me. It still ripped
through my guts like a razor, and I couldn’t reconcile any of it.
How could she not trust me? How could she not understand that she
was my entire reason for living? After everything we’d been
through, and all the time that passed, hadn’t I proven it a hundred
times?

My heart hammered painfully. I was filled
with worried anticipation, fear, and unadulterated resentment.
Would she want to see me? I was still so damn mad that I couldn’t
see straight, even now, knowing why she left. She deserved to have
me rail and scream at her, but maybe I needed her forgiveness as
much as she needed mine. And what if she didn’t even want to be
with me anymore? That possibility scared the shit out of me and
made my skin break out in goose bumps. Was she happy in Paris? It
didn’t matter. I’d say any Goddamn thing necessary to get her home
where she belonged.

Even if I had to restart my residency at a
new hospital, I’d separate myself from any contact with Jane.
Whatever. I wanted my life back, but I needed Julia’s trust; losing
her was incomprehensible. I closed my eyes briefly to steady my
nerves, before handing money to the cabbie and exiting the car.
Unsure of the currency exchange rate, I shoved a wad of Euros in
his hand. He looked at the bills and smiled with a nod. Apparently
it was enough.

The cold February wind ripped cruelly
through my jeans, whipping my hair into my eyes. It was the icy
type that would your make ears ache and give you frostbite. I
searched the street for the café name that was waiting in Andrea’s
long stream of texts when I landed and was completely disoriented
in my direction in the unfamiliar landscape. The cloudy sky didn’t
help. I anxiously quickened my steps toward the end of the
street.

I was frustrated with everyone involved. The
whole fucking thing should never have happened. My eyes were hungry
for the familiar curve of Julia’s face and I wanted the hole in my
chest to close. I was cold and shivering, but wasn’t sure if it was
the temperature or apprehension. I swallowed the tightening in my
throat and tried to convince myself that our relationship would
come out stronger, just like it always did when we had a hill to
climb.

I pushed away thoughts of the angry
exchanges and the long nights I’d suffered without her. My resolve
strengthened, despite being uncertain how either of us would react
when she finally stood in front of me.

I shoved my hands into the pockets of my
leather coat and ducked my head against the cold, turning the
corner on Saint-Germain Boulevard in search of the café de Flore.
Andrea said Julia hadn’t been to work in two days, except a couple
of hours on Friday, but habitually visited there every Sunday. I’d
wait all day if necessary. It was
Sunday.
My heart leapt
hopefully.

Nerves made my stomach ache and my mind race
back to the night I sped over to Julia’s apartment all those years
ago. I had a date with someone else, and felt suffocated. It was
then that I’d finally been able to face that I was in love with my
best friend. I felt the same now; jumping out of my skin at the
uncertainty of how she’d respond. In the end, I’d chickened out of
telling her I loved her, content to just be with her and grateful
she wasn’t with another guy. After that, we spent even more time
together, and I only loved her more.

I inhaled deeply as my hand splayed out on
the brass plate to push the front door open. She’d kept her
feelings as hidden as I had yet we both felt the same overwhelming
love. I prayed to God nothing had changed.

The welcome warmth of the restaurant
engulfed me. It was a quaint little place filled with mahogany
antiques, dark burgundy upholstery, and a lot of black and white
framed art. Plush cushions were tied to the seats of the chairs
surrounding each small, round table. Similar to coffeehouses in the
United States, there was a roaring fire with some larger
upholstered chairs and a sofa around it where patrons could cozy up
for hours.

My breath caught as my eyes landed on Julia,
fully ensconced in Mike Turner’s embrace. My hands fisted at my
sides and my heart dropped like a stone. Light exploded behind my
eyes and fire ignited under the skin of my face and neck. A few
seconds and a few quick strides later, I was standing above them,
hovering over them. There were tears on Julia’s cheeks. Her arms
were around the other man’s shoulders, her fingers curled tightly
around a white handkerchief.

I huffed loudly enough to get their
attention. “I came to remind you that I didn’t forget you. That I
could
never
forget you, but apparently I’m too late,” I said
as stoically as I could manage. I broke out in a cold sweat; I
couldn’t seem to move, though I was shaking violently. I wanted to
rip Julia from Turner’s arms and beat the living shit out of
him.

Her eyes opened instantly at the sound of my
voice and she gasped; scrambling away from Turner, toward me.

“Ryan!” The flash of happiness on her face
was quickly replaced with panic as she took in the muscle working
in my jaw and the anger surely burning in my eyes. I turned on my
heel and strode quickly toward the door.

“Ryan!” she exclaimed painfully, hurrying
after me. “It’s not what it looks like, Ryan!”

Fire burned through my gut, my chest was
aching and hollow, it hurt, and I couldn’t breathe very well. The
few people in the restaurant all stopped their conversations and
watched my wife run after me as I made a hasty exit. My lips
pressed together angrily, and I seemed lost for words though I
wanted to shout at her. I wanted to get away, but I also wanted to
take her in my arms and never let go for the rest of my life.
Somehow, I kept walking, willing my legs to create distance as
disbelief shattered through me like shards.

“Ryan, please!” Julia called after me again.
The cold wind hit me in the face, the door banging loudly as my
palms connected and it burst open.

“Ryan!” Julia’s voice rose in desperation
and her little hand closed around my wrist when she caught up to
me… half-running beside me.

I stopped suddenly and faced her. “What?” I
flung her hand away. Mike Turner emerged from the café half a block
behind us, and his eyes met mine. “Is your boyfriend worried you
might remember you’re married? You seem to have forgotten easily
enough!” I spat.

Both of our chests were heaving, our breaths
mingling in a winter fog between us. Julia’s teeth also began to
chatter, which made me realize she’d chased me out of the
restaurant without a coat. Her chin trembled as I glared at her,
but still, she reached for me with both arms.

“Ryan, pl… please. You kn… know that’s nuh…
not true.” Her green eyes, filling with fresh tears, implored me to
have mercy on us both. “You’re st… still the only one. Th… the only
one who’s tuh… touched me.”

The tight knot in my gut loosened slightly
as I glanced over her head at the other man, who turned away,
heading the opposite direction down the block. Her fingers curled
into my forearms as she shivered in front of me, her eyes pleading.
She was suffering. I could feel it as if it were myself. I sucked
in my breath and instantly pulled her into a tight embrace, holding
her close to me.

Fuck it all!
She was my wife, and no
matter what, I loved her beyond how any normal man loved a woman.
She owned me, and I knew it.

“I am so Goddammed mad at you right now, I
can’t even fucking breathe!” When she began to clutch at my shirt
and sob into my chest, I almost broke. “I’m going to yell and
scream at you until I’m hoarse, I swear to God!” My arms tightened
as I wrapped her inside the opening of my coat, warm against me. My
lips found her temple and then the side of her face, the salt of
her tears on my tongue. My own eyes blurred. “Jesus, I was so
worried about you. Right now, all I wanna do is make sure you’re
okay.”

Julia’s arms wrapped tightly around my waist
under the jacket, her fingers fisting in the material of my shirt,
and her head rested on my chest.

She clung to me, crying my name over and
over, in the middle of the Paris street; the snow softly falling,
the busy city noises fading into oblivion as the moment suffocated
me. I wondered if she had an explanation to offer, and despite what
she said, was Turner part of the reason she left me? The knot began
to tighten again, the ache gnawing away at my insides.

“I thought… when you didn’t call back… that
you were done with me.”

My jaw tensed, and I closed my eyes just
before the words tore out through clenched teeth. “What do you
think? That I could walk away from you even if I fucking wanted
to?” I was furious that she’d even consider the possibility, but my
heart squeezed as her little body shook with sobs in my arms. I
couldn’t know if we’d be able to get through all the mistrust, but
I knew we loved each other so much I wanted to rip the heart from
my chest, it hurt so bad.

My hands found her shoulders, and I pushed
her back gently, my eyes seeking hers. The green orbs held the same
loving expression I’d seen a million times, but deep sadness also.
I fought the urge to brush my knuckles across her cheek when her
foggy breath and chattering teeth reminded me how cold she must
be.

“Come on.” I shed my coat and wrapped it
around her shoulders, leading her back to the café where we
gathered up her coat, handbag, and briefcase. The waitress had it
all waiting for us by the entrance.

“Merci.” I thanked the woman quietly and
helped Julia on with her long, black wool coat, cashmere scarf, and
matching gloves and quickly shrugged back into mine. I tried hard
to ignore the soft aroma of her perfume, which had wiggled its way
into the lining of my coat in the mere moments she’d worn it. There
were so many memories attached to that scent, and in this moment,
it hurt too much to remember.

I hailed a taxi, and after joining me
inside, Julia quietly murmured an address. I didn’t ask her where
we were going, and she didn’t ask me if I wanted to go with her.
Despite the tearful reunion, there was a lot of shit to clean up,
and the invisible wall between us was awful. I wanted to hold her
and forget everything that happened, but I knew we needed to hash
everything out or we’d never recover.

Part of me was afraid to crack open the
wound, terrified of the possibility we couldn’t survive. Even when
she couldn’t remember me, I knew I’d be in her life, at least as
her friend. Now, the future was uncertain; except that I’d love her
until I died… no matter if we were together or not. We were both
fragile, and I wasn’t going to begin the conversation here. By New
York time, it was the middle of the night and I was dead on my
feet. There would be plenty of time to talk when my head was clear
and sanity returned.