The Fall (30 page)

His eyes were red rimmed as his tears fell silently. He sat for several minutes, just looking at me. I kept his gaze as long as I could until I coward away, walking to my bedroom and shutting the door. Minutes later, I heard the front door shut and collapsed in a heap on my bed.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. I opened my door in haste to find Dean sitting at the kitchen table, impeccably dressed, eating a bagel, and reading the paper.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

“Coffee is...Fuck” His words were harshly exhaled due to my clothing, or lack thereof. I realized I was standing in my camisole and underwear. Smoldering eyes prevented me from saying anything else as he appraised me from head to toe. I had forgotten to lock my door last night, and I damn sure wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“Dean—”

“I’m not giving up, Dallas.” He leaned forward in an attempt to press his lips against mine. I pulled away before he could make contact.

“I don’t trust you.”
There, take that.

“I want you back. I’ll win you back. You want to be dated, I’ll do it. You want to take things slow, I’ll be patient. I thought about it last night and I know I went about this all wrong. You were right. I expected too much.”

“It’s still too much. Too much water under the bridge,” I argued, feeling less and less confident as he towered over me. “The truth is, I’m afraid of me when I’m with you. When I love you, I’m toxic. I don’t want to go down that road again.”

“I’ll wait,” he promised as he gently brushed my hair away from my face. “I’ll wait for you. I think I owe you that much.”

“For what?”

“Until you realize we are still beautiful,” he whispered, drawing me in. I breathed in his clean scent and damn near went to my knees. “I can’t give you back the years I missed, but I can promise you, Dallas, we will have more.”

“Stop!” The soothing tone of his voice would be my undoing. “Don’t promise me anything. Don’t even speak to me about a future. This is over, this whole sick twisted fucking mess I made. I want it over, and I want you gone right now.”

“I’ll wait,” he said, not faltering in his determination. He straightened his tie then walked out the door. Pouring a cup of coffee, I sat and stared at my closed front door. Dean was naïve to think that time could fix us. He should have figured out already that time was what had ruined us.

“So there’s no hero for you?”

“I am my own hero.” - Room 212

Dallas

“Good morning.” Greeting Beatrice seemed to be a feat in itself. I just wanted to find a nice dark hole, crawl in it and live there.

But life doesn’t give a shit what mood you are in or if your world is caving in. Its demands are never-ending and you have no choice but to get through it, ready or not. I had already learned that the hard way.

“What happened?” Her tone was cautious, unlike the happy-go-lucky pain in the ass confrontational voice she usually used. Her concern put me on edge.

“Nothing,” I said defiantly, refusing to entertain that my newest break up should affect my life in any way. Concern clear in her features, she gave me an encouraging smile. My eyes narrowed.

That son of a bitch.

“So he calls you now to keep an eye on me? I suppose he told you everything?”

“Ms. Dallas—”

“Dr. Whitaker. You are not to ask me about anything else, do you hear me? This is a professional relationship. He crossed the line by telling you anything. Don’t ever address me personally again.”

I was instantly sorry. In my few years with Beatrice, I had never seen her so hurt. The fact that I was the cause was too much to bear. Walking away, I grabbed my tablet and got to work. I had no more time for personal matters. I was done with personal.

Dean texted throughout the day, but I ignored him. Apparently, he did not intend to be silent while he waited.

DEAN: Remember the drive-in with Brittney Sharp and Henry Rice? Fuck that was awful.

I couldn’t help but grin. It was one of the nights Dean had a date in high school and brought me along. Little did he know my date happened to have just broken up with his, and we spent the whole night listening to them go back and forth over whose fault it was. We tried to end the night early, but they insisted they could handle it, but were fighting again minutes later. Dean and I ended up hanging out while they fought it out.

I didn’t acknowledge Dean or his attempt to make me remember. Less than ten minutes later, I got another text.

DEAN: You were wearing a yellow skirt and light blue top. I wanted to kiss you so badly. You wore that damn strawberry lip gloss. I can still remember the way it smelled. I went to bed that night thinking about your lips. I got no sleep.

An hour later, I got another text.

DEAN: Remember when Ralph went missing? I took him. Paul paid me to do it to torture you.

I burst out laughing at his confession. Ralph was my pet fish. He mysteriously disappeared one night only to show up two days later. I asked my family for years who did it and no one ever fessed up.

I went throughout the day as Dean sent me text after text, talking to me about anything and everything.

My next text came at noon the next day.

DEAN: Please don’t ever pour hot wax on your vagina. Hire a professional. I will pay for it. Just a little vage man advice. I miss you...and your perfect vagina.

I spit out my diet coke as I read that one. I couldn’t even imagine what situation he was dealing with at the moment.

I made it home and managed to wait a few hours before checking my phone. As much as I wanted to engage Dean, I was humiliated he knew the truth. I couldn’t understand why he was still interested after he heard what a complete wreck I had been after our break up. Cammie had called me non-stop since yesterday and I refused her calls as well. No matter what she had to endure, she had betrayed years of friendship in mere minutes. I knew eventually I would forgive her, but I couldn’t see it happening anytime soon.

I didn’t need old drama unfolding in the hospital. This wasn’t high school, and I damn sure hadn’t been acting my age since the minute Dean made his appearance. The hospital was the one place I felt truly safe. The thing I could control the most. My career was my focus. It was the one thing that had truly been my saving grace. I poured over cases and treatments as I ignored the obvious tug in my chest and my vibrating phone. Hours after I had landed on my couch, my curiosity got the best of me. I had missed two texts.

6:00 P.M.

DEAN: I’m eating spaghetti. Do you still hate it?

5 minutes ago...

DEAN: Sweet Home Alabama is on channel 8.

My heart squeezed. He knew it was my favorite movie. I quickly scrambled to find my remote and turned it on. He knew I had always thought of him watching it. I had told him once his eyes were the exact color of one of the male leads. The ironic part was it was about two people who met when they were kids only to painfully break up and get back together years later. It was all about kismet and soul mates, a subject eerily familiar. I settled in to watch when my phone vibrated again.

DEAN: You’re watching it now, aren’t you? I’ll watch it with you.

Damn him. I regretted dumping my tequila and settled for a glass of wine. Two hours later, I got a text.

DEAN: Ironic, isn’t it? Goodnight, Dally.

7:00 A.M.

DEAN: I wish I could wake you up the way I did last week, buried inside you with my thumb in your mouth.

I groaned as my sex clenched. That had been the hottest morning sex I had ever had. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining him on top of me until the world shook with the strongest orgasm I’d had in years. I begged him to take me again right after, and he did.
Twice.

As of today, my vagina was no longer speaking to me.

Work, Dallas.

I walked up to Beatrice cautiously and got a smile.

“Don’t bother, baby. I knew that wasn’t you talking.” She picked up the phone, ignoring my attempt to apologize. I waited for her to get off the line, but I could tell she was giving me the brush off. I felt terrible.

Just become a nun. You can be a doctor nun. A nun doctor. You will be married to the Lord, have renewed virginity, and your precious guilt. A catholic nun doctor...a new dream.

“Dr. Whitaker, a moment.” I looked to see Dr. Nichols addressing me. I grabbed my tablet and followed him quickly.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this at the beginning of your shift, but Mrs. Tanner passed last night.”

“What?” I took a step back. “Why wasn’t I paged?”

Ted Nichols was head of oncology. He was one of the best doctors in the state of Texas. I admired him from afar and was excited about working with him. Upon my arrival, he had taken an interest in my training that thrilled me to no end.

“I was here,” he said smugly.

I was thrilled about working with him, until that very moment.

“That was my patient. I wasn’t aware you had taken the case.” Confrontation was clear in my tone.

“It was late and there was nothing you could have done,” he remarked, finishing the conversation then headed for the door.

“Excuse me,” I said defiantly. “I was her doctor. She was my patient. I’m thankful for your consideration in regards to my R & R, but I insist on being contacted when the condition of one of my patients worsens and needs to be addressed.”

“Lighten up, Dallas. It’s going to happen a lot.”

“Not with me,” I said as I took a step forward.

“Mighty aggressive this morning, Whitaker, but you are going to need that R & R.” He left the room without another word as I fumed in the corner. I made my rounds to both day and night shift nurses, letting them know exactly how I felt about being informed. If my patients so much as sneezed and shit, I wanted to know.

I took a much-needed break around 2:00 P.M. and went downstairs to stare mindlessly at the large, triple-tiered fountain in the lobby. Water had a way of soothing me and I could feel a headache coming on. My pocket vibrated and I ignored it, taking a bite of my apple. When it vibrated a second time, I pulled it out to silence it and saw a text from Rose.

ROSE: I’m coming over tonight. This is bullshit. I miss my sister.

I quickly texted back.

DALLAS: I second that. I need you too.

ROSE: See you soon.

DALLAS: I’ll order a trough of food just for you.

ROSE: You do that, BIG D!

DALLAS: Kiss my ass, Rosie.

My sister ate like she was training for the Olympics and never got fat. If I ate one donut, I could physically hear myself get fatter with each bite. My phone vibrated again.

DEAN: Beatrice just felt me up. Where are you?

He was looking for me. When it came to patience, this man had none, but then that was one of the things I loved most about him. Every single piece of me wanted to go save him from Beatrice’s clutches, wanted to answer his texts. I just wanted to be near him.

Years ago, I would have jumped at any sign of his attention. Now I was purposefully avoiding it.

I spent months curled up in my dorm room, listening to any song that held me prisoner on repeat. No amount of prompting from Cammie or anyone else could shake me out of the funk I was in. I had bought a Columbia onesie when I found out I was pregnant and had planned to give it to him when I told him about the baby. The way I had planned it, the vast amount of scenarios that I had imagined would never have had me clutching that fucking onesie years later with no baby and no Dean.

I fell down.

Circling the drain had taken me so far away from the Dallas he had left. I almost lost my scholarship at Austin. Then my first year of medical school, I became dependent on Adderall. I became an uncontrollable menace and got even more problematic, though my grades were soaring. I had no issue with my daily activities, it was the not sleeping at all and the consistent inevitable crash that brought me to the emergency room a record amount of times my second year of medical school. When I finally kicked the super pill to the curb my second year and was forced to work my load stimulant free, I decided recreational sex was the best way to relieve the tension and never-ending heartache. However, true to my hedonistic nature, I did not limit my party to just one partner. I had laughed in the face of two of the guys I had been juggling when they confessed their love to me, quickly replacing them with two more.

I got sad, I got mad, and then I got disgusted, with
myself
.

So I got back up.

Jesus, poor Cammie.

I would have to make it a point to forgive her sooner than later.

The day I graduated Austin might have been the worst day of my life because of Dean’s broken promise and my inability to let go, but the day I graduated medical school was one of the best days.