You Loved Me Once

by Corinne Michaels

  My hand falls and Westin walks away, leaving me completely screwed. My new boyfriend and my ex, working on the same trial . . . what could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter 15

  “Do you want to wait for your husband?” I ask Allison as we stand in her room, ready to dispense the medication.

  “If we can,” she says nervously. “I don’t want to be alone when this starts.”

  “It’s no problem. We can wait a few minutes,” I smile.

  “Sorry, he had to handle something.”

  There are four patients still waiting to start the chemotherapy, and one of them will be the final placebo. I have been able to keep my face completely stoic with each patient so far. Hopefully this will be the same, but this one feels different.

  “Please don’t worry about it, we’re not going anywhere,” I reassure her again.

  Dr. Grant, please come to the nurses’ station, the loudspeaker blares.

  I look over to Westin who gives one nod. “Go, we’ll be fine,” I tell him.

  “I’ll be right back.” He touches my arm and then leaves.

  Allison clears her throat, watching me with a smile that indicates she wants to say something. “Boyfriend?”

  Oh, God. I can’t girl talk with her, but I can’t be rude either. Why is my life suddenly so difficult? I really liked when it was simple. Not sure what exactly the right thing to do is, I give her a little, hoping she’ll drop it. “I guess you could call it that.”

  “Sorry if I’m overstepping.” She chews on her lip.

  “You’re fine.”

  That’s a lie. None of this is fine. I send a prayer out for my name to be called so I can get out of here without saying something dumb.

  “It’s the way he looked at you, it was clear that there’s something going on between you guys.”

  Dropping it is not happening.

  I look back at the door wondering what she picked up on. We were fighting not even two hours ago.

  “It’s not like that . . .”

  Allison laughs. “Nothing ever starts like that, does it? But he’s really good looking . . . and a doctor.”

  I move over to the side of her bed, and check the lines of her IV. “Yeah, he’s a good guy.”

  Please drop this or let the ground swallow me up, either would work.

  “How long have you been together?” she asks.

  As much as I may hate this, Allison is sweet and I don’t really have an out right now. I can be aloof or choose to be the person I am. I love my patients and I believe healing isn’t only about medicine. People have to want to fight and be willing to put up with an immense amount of struggle in order to feel better.

  Going through hell is an understatement.

  I’ve prided myself on being their friend through it all, and Allison deserves the same thing.

  “It’s been a few years, but nothing serious until recently,” I admit.

  “Ahh . . .” She pushes her hair back. “. . . I see.”

  “See?”

  “I’m assuming he finally decided to shit instead of getting off the pot. Men are so stupid when it comes to women. Peyton was that way.” Allison rolls her eyes. “I swear, it was like pulling teeth to get him to finally pop the question.”

  Now I’m suddenly interested in this conversation.

  “Oh? Why is that? You guys seem so happy,” I say in spite of myself.

  I should never have asked, but I don’t know when I’ll ever have this opportunity again.

  She leans in, playing with the edge of the blanket. “I was never supposed to really marry Peyton. We were childhood friends, and our parents basically arranged our marriage at infancy. Both of us come from traditional families, but we never seemed to get the timing right. I always loved him. I was that stupid girl with big eyes for the hot guy, but Peyton never saw me that way. I was just the annoying family friend.”

  My pulse pounds in my ears as she tells me the story I’ve wondered about. Did he fall in love with her right after me? Were they kept apart because he met me? Then I wonder, why had I never heard about her when we were together? I sit on the edge of her bed, waiting for anything she’s willing to share.

  “We both ended up going to Penn State, which is where I bumped into him after years.”

  Penn State.

  I feel the walls closing in, but I mentally hold my hands out to stop it. “Grad school?”

  She nods. “Yeah, I was supposed to go to Yale, but my father graduated from Penn so that’s where I went. Anyway, I saw Bryce and he looked so . . . sad, so . . . different than I remembered. We talked a lot. It was nice knowing someone there and not feeling so alone. He was in a bad state and we happened to be there for each other. He never talked about what was wrong, but I assumed it was someone else.”

  Me. It was me.

  The way she described him is nothing like he was before that. We were happy, ready to tackle the world, but when I got up here and saw the state of my family, Bryce and I couldn’t hold on.

  We drifted like ships out at sea with no steering. We were on opposite currents, without a way to chart the course back to each other.

  I never really thought of him as sad at the end. He was so angry and disappointed. My heart aches for the man she describes.

  “I’m glad you found each other, then.” The words hurt but I mean them.

  “Me too. He asked me out, even though he clearly didn’t want to, and then we grew to be more. It was a long time before he finally said he loved me, though. We’d fight so much and I threatened to end things, and a light switched on.”

  So he didn’t just run to her arms. He didn’t love her right away. It shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does. I’ve spent so much time getting over him, it’s nice to know it wasn’t easy for him either.

  “I guess he needed the push,” I say, not able to look at her.

  “Most men do,” she laughs lightly. “So, what was your sexy doctor’s push?”

  If only it was Westin who needed the urging. “It was actually me,” I tell her the truth. “I was broken by a man a very long time ago, and I didn’t want to ever endure it again. I’ve wasted a lot of time trying to shut myself off and Westin never gave up on me.”

  She touches my hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Wes is a great guy and I’m lucky to have him.”

  “I don’t know how you work with him, though. I’d kill my husband if I was around him all day.”

  I shake my head. Sometimes I do want to kill him, like when I learned he was advising me. “Well, it helps that we usually only see each other when we need a break . . .”

  “Yes!” She giggles. “I’ve always imagined that’s how it really is.”

  “What?”

  “You know, sneaking off to have sex in random places, the no rules in your relationships, like a mix of a soap opera and television drama. Tell me details, you know I basically have been celibate for a year now thanks to this fucking cancer. Please, let me live vicariously through you.”

  That’s a visual I could’ve done without.

  “We really don’t have to go there,” I say, because nope. I can’t do it. I can’t talk about my sex life, no matter how sweet she is.

  “Fine,” she grumbles. “Do you love him?”

  “Do you love who?” Bryce’s voice fills the room.

  I rise, wondering how long he’s been standing there. Did he hear the conversation and cut it off because he didn’t want to know?

  “Babe!” Allison waves him over. “There you are! Dr. Adams had to keep me company while we waited for you. We’re starting the first dose and,” she squeals. “It’s finally happening.”

  “Let me go grab Dr. Grant and I’ll be right back,” I say moving out of the way.

  I head out of the room, but Westin is gone. “Martina,” I call out. She pops her head over the stack of papers. “Where’s Dr. Grant?”

  “He had to check on a patient, he said he’ll be back soon, but
to go on and get started without him.”

  This is just great. My advisor is now missing and I have other patients waiting, plus a surgery this afternoon. I sigh and recalibrate my emotions.

  “Okay,” I say as I enter the room. “I’m going to administer the medication. You’ll be here for two more days, and then you’ll be able to leave until your next appointment.”

  I go over the speech I’ve given all day about what to eat, and when to call me or head straight to the hospital. There’s a lot of scary possibilities and I like my patients to be informed. Allison and Bryce hold hands as I open the envelope.

  I remove the bottle, write down the code on the bottom, and my heart sinks.

  She’s on the placebo.

  There’s nothing I can do now but watch the cancer spread and know that she will die. The medication alone will not be enough. I know it in my heart and for the first time in my fifteen-year career I feel the bad news on a personal level.

  I keep my back to them, not wanting to give anything away, and place the vial in the machine. Each second, I feel the nerves in my stomach clenching. This is wrong. This is so very wrong.

  How do I face her?

  The decision was hers, but would she truly let herself die because she couldn’t carry a baby? She can still have a child—her and Bryce’s child.

  But then I remember the letter. She won’t. She had to know and be advised at that time. I explained that to her as well, and she’s made her choice. When she first gave me the letter, while I disagreed, my code of ethics required me to accept the patient’s decision about her treatment. But that was when she had a high probability of the trial working for her. But now that she has the placebo, this is just all too real.

  And I’m lying to everyone and have no one to talk to.

  I close my eyes and pull myself together. I can’t give anything away. The rules are there and there was a chance this is how it would play out. Allison knew her risks and I need to keep that in the forefront of my mind.

  Once I have a good handle on my emotions, I turn to face her. “All set,” I smile and touch her shoulder. “A nurse will come check on you soon. If you need anything else, just call.”

  She takes my hand in hers. “Thank you, Dr. Adams. Thank you for this. I-I can’t,” Allison starts to get choked up. “I can’t tell you what this means to us. It’s like since we came here, everything is working out. This is all going exactly how it was meant to go.”

  Funny, I feel the complete opposite way about her showing up.

  “I’m glad. Now rest and I’ll be back soon,” I squeeze her hand, look at Bryce, and walk out of the room.

  I can’t believe she has the placebo. This is exactly what I worried about. Damn it.

  A hand wraps around my arm as I’m walking down the hall, causing me to stop.

  I turn, but gasp when I see Bryce’s face. “She doesn’t have the medicine, does she?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say quietly, pulling my arm back. I smile at the nurse who passes me in the hall.

  Once she’s out of view, Bryce begins again. “I saw it on your face.”

  I don’t know that I would believe it from anyone else, but he knows me. And he’s seen every emotion dance across my face before. Bryce once knew me better than I knew myself. “I can’t talk to you about any specifics regarding the trial, Mr. Peyton.”

  He scoffs. “Don’t give me that shit, Chick. I know you. I know when you’re lying. Allison doesn’t have the drug.”

  I have to hide any emotion and be the lead doctor right now. He’s exactly like any other patient’s husband who wants answers. I understand it, but I won’t jeopardize this trial. “I’m very sorry you think you saw something, however, I can’t tell you anything other than that she is receiving a dose of chemotherapy.”

  “Serenity,” he nearly chokes on my name. “Please don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth. She has the placebo and she’s going to be fucking crushed.”

  That makes two of us.

  “I’m sorry I can’t say more about this, but know that I’m doing everything I can to treat Allison within the bounds of the study while also respecting her choices.”

  Bryce takes a step closer, defeat radiates off of him. Somehow he figured it out, and I won’t confirm it either way, but I’m breaking watching him like this. No matter what I feel for him, seeing someone you love in pain hurts worse than being in pain yourself.

  Tears fill his eyes and he shakes his head. “Please, Ren.”

  “Bryce,” I sigh. “I don’t know what you think you saw, but you have to trust me to do my job.”

  He wipes his eyes before the drop falls. “I know you. I know what I saw and the fact that you haven’t said she has it confirms what I thought.”

  “I can’t say anything about the trial, don’t you get that? Stop asking me for things that I can’t do. I agreed to treat Allison and now you need to go back to your wife, hold her hand, and be supportive. I can’t discuss this with anyone, especially you.”

  This isn’t about just him and his wife. I’m sure that’s not easy for him, but if I say something, I’m risking everyone.

  “I’m not just anyone.”

  He’s right. He was once more than that, but he’s not anymore. “No, you’re Allison’s husband, and she needs you.”

  Bryce takes two strides and pulls me into his arms. He holds me, tucking his head in my neck. My arms are down at my sides, and I can’t move. For years I’ve wondered how this would feel and it’s exactly like I dreamed. I close my eyes, breathing in the musky cologne that is all him, committing it to memory. His soft hair touches my cheek, and I fight the urge to rub my face against him. My heart races and the world around me disappears as the man I loved more than anything is touching me.

  This is wrong, but I can’t make him stop.

  I don’t know how long we stand like this, like two lost people searching for something to hold onto, but the sound of his sob breaks me. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close as he cries.

  After a few seconds, he releases me. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay . . .”

  “No, it’s not. Fuck.” Bryce rubs his temples. “I hate this. I hate that I’m falling apart. I hate watching her suffer. I hate that I have to lie about all of this.”

  I step back, needing air and some space. “Lie about what?”

  I’m the one who is going through hell lying to Westin, Julie, him, Allison, my patients, and most of all myself.

  “This. Us. That we know each other.”

  “It was your idea not to tell her,” I remind him. “You didn’t want her to know what we were.”

  He leans against the wall across from me, both of us keeping our distance.

  “Not that, I can’t do this. I can’t feel like this and I can’t ask you what I want to. I have to go back to her . . .” He looks down the hall.

  Back to her.

  Back to the woman he belongs to.

  “Yeah, you should.” I look down at the ground.

  Bryce doesn’t say another word, he pushes off the wall and walks away, leaving me a complete mess. Just like the night I left him.

  “So we’ll talk every day?” I ask again as I stand in the driver’s side door.

  “Every day.”

  “And you won’t forget about me?”

  Bryce rolls his eyes and then takes my hand. “Do you see this?” He lifts my hand with the diamond sitting there. “This is not something I’d forget. It’s my grandmother’s ring, it’s a family heirloom and only family wear it. You’re mine. You’re my family, Chick.”

  I do my best not to swoon right here, but sometimes, the man says just what I need to hear. “You’re mine too, Bryce Peyton.” My hand rests on his chest and I hold back the tears. “Don’t you forget it.”

  He smiles at me as though I’m crazy, and maybe I am. I have loved this man for the last two years in a way that has left me stunned. I’m still unsure that
I’m making the right choice going to Chicago, but I’m hopeful we’ll stay strong.

  “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

  I nod. “And then we’ll see each other a few weeks after that.”

  “We have to keep making plans because you and I don’t let the other down.”

  “No,” I say with a sigh, “we don’t.”

  He leans in, kissing me softly. “I hate that you’re not coming with me, but I understand why you’re not.”

  It’s the first time he’s acknowledged that he gets it. My heart is filled with gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting me do what I feel in my heart.”

  He moves to the side, taking my hands in his. “I know you love your family and I’d be the worst kind of prick if I told you not to go. I was just scared. Fuck, I’m scared now. I don’t want us to drift apart, so you can’t let that happen.”

  “I won’t.”

  And I mean that vow. I will not let us falter.

  “You better get going, baby. It’s going to be late and you have a long drive.”

  I lift my hands to his face, and kiss him hard. The tears I fought to hold back fall without permission. The salty beads touch our lips, mixing in with our goodbye.

  “Don’t cry,” he says as his thumb brushes the moisture away.

  “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I don’t blame you,” he jokes.

  My laughter is short and comes out almost like a snort. “You’re stupid.”

  “I’ve never claimed to be anything but.”

  I just keep trying to drag this out. Not ready to go weeks without seeing him. It’s going to kill me to drive away.

  “I should go . . .”

  “Yeah, you should.”

  I fight the strength to get in the car, feeling like I’m leaving half of my heart behind, and maybe I am, because it will belong to no one else.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, Serenity. Until . . .”

  “My last breath,” I finish for him.

  And then he closes the door to my car, and our hands are on the glass, not able to touch, but needing a connection. I put the car in drive, tears falling freely and then his palm falls and I drive away, leaving the man I love behind.