One Night In Amsterdam (14 page)

“You look like a ghost. What happened to you Emma?” She asked out of nowhere.  “Was Mr. Hot Guy mean to you?  Don’t let these rich Manhattan playboys bother you. It’s not worth it.” She said.

“No, he was fine. I’m fine. Just tired,” I mumbled, trying to evade her scrutinizing eyes. “I need you to get his chest x-ray while I check out the next patient. Find me when his results are ready. I will get Dr. Marshall to review them and my notes. He’ll check him afterwards.”

When Kelly came back with Dylan’s x-ray results, without waiting for Dr. Marshall, I checked them myself first and was relieved to see he didn’t have pneumonia or acute bronchitis. I wondered what the reason was for the rattling I heard in his chest. I called in Dr. Marshall and we got into the room together this time.

Dylan, to my surprise, acted completely different in front of Dr. Marshall. He didn’t say anything or act to imply that we knew each other. He was a perfect gentleman.

“Mr. Hamilton. This is a teaching hospital, so we have students on clinical rotations here most of the time. Emma Collins is from Columbia University. I believe, she has already examined you and ordered a chest x-ray. Now let’s see what your results show.” Dr. Marshall explained and looked at his chest exam results. He listened to Dylan’s lungs quickly afterwards, “There is faint rattling sound like Emma noticed, but your x-ray results look clean. As clean as it can be for a smoker.” He said bluntly without trying to be nice. Dr. Marshall didn’t like smokers. “The good news is that I do not see any sign of pneumonia or acute bronchitis. It might be the flu or your smoking. You should quit and see if you feel better. I’ll write you a prescription for your coughing and fever just in case. Do you have a preferred pharmacy? We can fax it in for you. ”

“No.” He shook his head and kept his intense gaze on me without breaking his reticence while he patiently waited for Dr. Marshall to finish writing the prescription.

As soon as Dr. Marshall was out the room, Dylan grabbed my waist abruptly and locked me in a tight embrace. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. It felt so good but also so scary to be in his arms again.  I listened to his deep breathing, felt his chest rising up and down as he buried his face in my hair. His soft touch made my heart race again, and for that fleeting moment as he slowly raked his fingers through my hair and brushed my face with his finger, I was not a doctor in the ER dressed in scrubs. I was back in our hotel room in Amsterdam filled with jasmines, enjoying succulent treats. Feeling his lips resting on my neck, my body became a fire ready to ignite. I wanted to him to kiss me. I wanted to feel his strong body. I could have stayed in his arms, in that comfortable place where everything felt magical but I knew I had to stop this before it got out of control, and I had to do it immediately.

“I have to go.” I whispered in his ears.

He didn’t say anything back, but his solemn expression told me what he couldn’t say in words. I could see in his dreamy eyes that Dylan Hamilton was back in my life. This time, there was no way I could run away from him.

CHAPTER 11

DYLAN

I was dreaming again. It was the same one I had every night for the last five months. Emma was in my arms, giving me soft kisses but before I could do something, she disappeared in the thick fog, as if she was a droplet of water, evaporating into the thin air. Feeling lost and abandoned, I didn’t know what to do. I was aware that it was just a dream, but the same scene with the same vile ending threw me into nervous apprehension every time. Regardless of how I tried to grasp on to her, or freeze the image while she was still in my arms, it never worked. She always disappeared, turning a sweet dream into a nightmare.

So, there I was, having the same dream, wondering when she was going to slip away. However this time, something felt different. I heard a soft voice calling my name. Then, uncertain fingers stroked my hair. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the relaxing, faint touch, and wondering how my dream felt so real. Then, I heard that sweet voice again. “Dylan, wake up!” The voice said.

I opened my eyes and couldn’t believe Emma was there, standing in front me, gazing into my eyes. She was real - I wasn’t dreaming. Still shaken, I moved towards her abruptly without giving her a chance to react. I cupped her face and pulled her into a deep kiss. Her lips were soft and sweet like ice-cream melting in my mouth. I couldn’t get enough. I moved gently first with persuasive and eloquent touches, brushing her mouth. Her labored breathing was uneven. Her hands were in my hair, tugging it softly. I had a sweet satisfaction realizing that she responded almost as passionately as she did the last time we kissed. I was making her pant. Making her desire me. She inhaled deeply, parted her lips just a tiny bit and I slipped my tongue into her mouth. I was recklessly imploring for more when suddenly she broke away. I opened my eyes, feeling desperate from losing the touch of her lips. I pulled her to myself again but “Dylan,” she whispered softly. “We need to stop. We are in a hospital.”

“I had to make sure…” I mumbled, half consciously.

“What do you mean, you had to make sure?” She asked with a confused look on her face.

“Make sure that you were real.”

“Dylan, I told you I’d see you in the cafeteria when I had a break. Don’t you remember? I was able to get a break just a few minutes ago. I came right away and found you sleeping.”

“What time is it?”

“About three thirty in the morning. Sorry, I couldn’t come sooner!”

“No, it’s okay. I was dreaming about you. It was the same dream. The one where you always disappear in the end.” I pulled her close one more time, and placed just a soft kiss on her lips.  “I just had to kiss you before you disappeared again. God! I missed you so much…” I whispered in her ear.

“How can you miss someone you’ve spent less than a day with months ago, Dylan?” She asked.  Her innocent face and perplexed disposition made it obvious how clueless she was about what she meant to me.

“You have no idea, do you?” I asked and continued without waiting for her to speak. “You don’t know what I have been going through these last few months.”

She shook her head and turned her eyes away.

“Why did you leave me like that Emma?” I asked softly. “Why didn’t you leave me a phone number, or an e-mail, or an address? Or anything? Anything that could help me to find you. I deserved more than a cold goodbye note.”

“Dylan, it was one night. We agreed!” She replied back solemnly. Was she tired or did she just not care? It hurt so much seeing her living a normal, busy life while I was hopelessly lost in the affluence and emptiness surrounding me on the Upper East Side.

“You know I didn’t agree to that.” I shook my head, and objected immediately. “I even told you that I didn’t want it to be one night. God damn it Emma. I told you how I felt about you. You knew, but you still left.  I replayed every moment of that day in my mind millions of times. If I didn’t have your drawing or your note, I would think my mind was playing a wicked game on me. I had the silk foulard you left and your drawing and my memories. The sweet taste of your lips, your skin, and your body… as if it happened yesterday. Still fresh! Still making me ache for what I lost. I knew I had to find you.”

“Oh, Dylan, Stop! Please don’t do this.” She said solemnly. Her voice was cold. It cut through me like a sharp blade but her face and the soft hue of her green eyes… they contradicted the cold words slipping out of her mouth. I didn’t want to believe that she was happy and content in her life while I was in complete turmoil.

“Don’t do what Dr. Collins?”  I spat aloud in an infuriated tone that I couldn’t suppress. “Don’t talk about how disappointing it was to realize that you were gone after such a wonderful night? You don’t want to hear how I searched for you in the streets of Amsterdam for hours, and how I finally found your hotel, but found out that you used fake names and left no credit card information. You don’t want to know that I hired a private investigator to find you, and how we searched every God-damn medical school in the States with a student named Emma.”

 “No, you didn’t!” She uttered in disbelief.

“Oh, yes I did.” I groused back. I couldn’t hold the emotions I held within me for months.  “I know that there are over 140 medical schools in United States and about 175 Emma’s. I rode to Columbus, Boston and Baltimore, even flew to Los Angeles, to check some of them.”

“But Dylan, why would you do that? Why didn’t you just let it go?”

“How could you even say that, Emma! What I felt, I am sure you felt too. What we had was wonderful. Beautiful. Magical… but unlike you, I wanted that magic to continue.  One day wasn’t enough. I did everything I could to find you.”

“So… your private investigator found me and told you where I worked?”  She met my gaze in sad understanding.

“Believe it or not, it wasn’t my PI who found you. It was Max.  He was invited to a party downtown and said that he saw you there. At first I didn’t believe him, but then I had to check it out, even if there was a slightest chance that it could be true. By the time I got there, you were gone.”

“I had to work tonight. I left early.”

“Max said you left with a guy, and you two looked close. Do you have a boyfriend Emma?” I checked her hand to be sure she was not wearing a ring. I didn’t know what I would have done if she told me she was engaged or had a boyfriend.  “Please don’t beat around the bush… Fuck it! Just say it, if you do.”

“God, Dylan, you are unbelievable. You can’t barge into my life like this and demand answers! It was just one night. How dare you make Max spy on me? What gives you the right to pry into my private life?”

“Emma, just answer it. Damn it.” I straightened myself up, leaning over the edge of the table. I stifled the urge to slam the table with my clenched fist and shoved my hands to my pants, instead. “The guy at the party… was he your boyfriend?” I asked after calming myself. I had no right to demand an answer, but I couldn’t control instantaneous rage and jealousy. I was going crazy just thinking about the possibility of Emma being with someone else.

She swallowed hard and pursed her lips stubbornly. “No! He wasn’t my boyfriend Dylan.”  She answered after a long, quiet minute. “Are you satisfied now?” She added looking upset, angry even.

“Who is he, then?”  I asked, frustrated that I couldn’t prevent my curiosity to show. “Tell me that you don’t have a boyfriend Emma. Tell me that there isn’t somebody...”

“I don’t have anybody in my life Dylan. Anybody the way you mean.” She replied. “God, don’t you see my life. I work twelve hours in the clinic four days a week and then go to school. The guy who Max saw with me was my brother, Steve. He was the reason why I had to leave you that night in Amsterdam.”

“But why?”

“Because… my brother is an idiot. He had an accident, crashed his car on the highway and got arrested for DUI. He is not even twenty years old and had his second DUI charge in a year. I had to come back and help save his miserable ass from going into jail.”

 “Sorry Emma.  I didn’t know.” I paused, and sighed deeply. “But you should have told me instead of running away. I could have helped you, helped him! We could have solved all these problems together.”

“No, Dylan, you can’t help me, or help my brother, and we’re not together. There is no us. Why don’t you want to understand that?”

“You know the reason why!" I said in a stiff voice.

“Dylan! Please, don’t!” She interrupted abruptly. She was biting the tip of her index finger nervously. A pair of unblinking wide eyes shifted to my hands. She unclasped them and held them between hers.

“Why Emma? Why don’t you want to hear me?”  I asked. My eyes and voice grew increasingly desperate.  “All I ask from you is to give me a chance. That’s all.” I begged despairingly. My hands and body felt limp. I didn’t have any strength or desire to stand up and show her that I was okay. The truth was obvious. I was debilitated without her. Didn’t she see that?

It was the first time in my life that I felt this weak and hopeless. I nervously waited for her to say something while she stood in front of me, completely reticent. She put her hand on my arm, caressing gently and the other one, tangling my hair as if she was trying to calm me down before she broke the bad news.  She didn’t need to utter a word; her eyes reflected her confused emotions. Maybe she pitied me or felt sorry. I probably deserved to be pitied in such a desperate state.  There wasn’t a trace of the mighty, fearless Wall Street businessman in the person collapsed on the chair in front of her. The person looking at her beseechingly was scared like hell to be rejected.

I wondered inwardly what happened to famous Dylan Hamilton. Once a bad-ass bachelor, infamous party boy, enjoying a different girl every night, I never thought somebody could change me so drastically. How did I become this man chasing one girl? It just happened.  Nothing was the same since I met Emma.  After five long months of agonizing search, there she was, in front of me, and I was willing to bow and scrape, even beg for her to give me a chance, a chance to be with her one more time, while she stood austere, not touched at all.