A Love Like This

by Kahlen Aymes

  After I left Meredith, I spent the rest of the day going about business as usual even though I had effectively quit. I hadn’t really considered how this would affect Mike or Andrea, but I wrote down ideas for the April and May issues and emailed it to Monique, copying Andrea and the other assistant. I sat back in the chair and looked out over the Paris landscape. It was beautiful, and I wanted to return with Ryan one day. I was still scared. Worried that now he might not want me. I considered calling him, but rather than second guess my decision and give him a chance to rant at me over the phone, I decided it was better to just go and face him. If he was in front of me, I’d be able to touch him, kiss him, and let him look in my eyes when I told him what an idiot I’d been. I’d do whatever it took to get his arms around me and know we were okay. I’d beg his forgiveness if I needed to.

  Andrea came through my open door. “Is it true? You’re leaving?”

  “Yes. As soon as I can.”

  “But, it’s Friday already.”

  “And?”

  “Well, I mean… we have that meeting with Givenchy on Monday. You have to be there. And Mike told me he’d have those pictures mounted for you by Sunday. Can’t you wait a couple of days? I mean, what’s a couple of days?”

  “You take the meeting. You’ll be amazing. You have the proposal. We’ve gone over it ten times. Selling is the sales people’s job. You just have to present the creative. You know that.”

  She stood looking at me, and I met her eyes. She was hiding something. “I’d feel better with you there. It’s just a couple of days, Julia. Please. I can’t take it. What if Meredith hate’s it?”

  “She basically fired me. I don’t think I can go, even if I wanted to.”

  “Yeah, and she’ll end up firing me, too. Please. What’s a couple of days? I need you. I’ll do everything else. I’ll get your flight. I’ll even help you pack.”

  I flushed, and pulled back from my desk.

  “Julia, you look green. Are you okay?”

  My stomach retched suddenly, and I barely had time to pull the trashcan from beneath the desk to heave into it. After our conversation, Meredith and I didn’t keep our lunch plans, and I grabbed a tuna sandwich from the luncheonette on the lower level of the building. I felt horrible, not only for me but for Andrea having to witness it. When I was finished, I leaned back in the chair and reached for a Kleenex from the box on the credenza behind my desk.

  Andrea’s face was twisted in abhorrence. “Eewww… That’s so nasty!”

  “Sorry you had to see that. I think I have the flu. I was sick earlier, too.”

  “See? You can’t leave this weekend. You need to go back to the hotel and rest for a couple of days. I’ll book your flight for Monday night? You’ll get everyone on the plane sick.”

  I nodded weakly. “You win.”

  “Do you need some water?” she asked gently.

  “That would be great. Thanks.” When she left, I tied the trash bag shut, cringing for the poor soul who had to empty it later.

  Andrea returned with a bottle of Perrier, a glass of ice, and a lime wedge. “I thought it would be better than the alternative.”

  “Yeah.” I took a careful sip. “I’m going to try a little, but I think I just need to go to bed.”

  “Okay. I’ll check on you later. In case you need anything.”

  *****

  Later that night, as I waited for Andrea to come to my room, I nibbled on saltine crackers and cream of chicken soup. The hotel food was good, but the room service menu was limited, and after almost six weeks of staying in alone more than going out, it was less appetizing. Coupled with my queasy stomach, it made it hard to eat much. I’d taken a hot shower and was dressed in Ryan’s T-shirt and a pair of pink pajama pants. Now that I was going home, I ached to call him. I even picked up my phone twice to do it. But my heart was sore, and I didn’t think I could take it if I called and it went straight to voicemail. I’d rather hold on to the little happiness that bloomed when I’d made the decision.

  A knock at the door had me leaving the bedroom and going to answer it. Andrea sashayed into the room, dressed in an old grey sweat suit. She was carrying a small bag.

  “What’s your poison? Cookies, ice cream or popcorn?” She asked happily. The TV was on, but of course, it was in French, and though I knew a few words, six weeks wasn’t enough to learn much.

  “Ice cream, I think. What kind do you have?”

  “Chocolate and cookies and cream.”

  “Chocolate?” I eyed her hopefully.

  She handed me the pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon and plopped down on the end of the sofa, digging deep in the bag for the other one.

  “You seem happier, Julia. It’s been so hard to watch how sad you are.”

  “I shouldn’t have come. I just… I miss him.”

  “We’ll, he’s definitely miss-able.” She took a bite and then licked her spoon off upside down. Her eyes lit up as she dug out another bite. “And a lot of other ‘ables’.” She giggled and I laughed.

  “Yes. He’s all of that.” I grinned at her. “Now that I’ve decided to go, I just want to go.”

  “I know. I talked to Mike. He’s spending the weekend with some French chick, but he said he can meet you Sunday at that coffee shop you hang at, to give you the prints. I guess they’re celebrating V-day late.”

  I watched her expression. “I’m sure it’s not serious.”

  “It never is.”

  “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

  Her head popped up and I regarded her steadily, challenging her to deny her feelings.

  Her shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I don’t know. We’ve known each other so long. We’re friends.”

  “I know all about that.”

  “Are you sad you missed Valentine’s Day with Ryan?”

  I nodded. “Of course. It’s our first since we’ve been married. But a lot of firsts got screwed this year.” She knew about Jane. I’d broken down and told her right after we came to Paris.

  “What do you think he got you?”

  “Probably nothing.”

  “Isn’t he into that sort of thing? From the flowers and stuff I’ve seen over the years, he seems very romantic. He’s certainly gorgeous.”

  “So you’ve said. Repeatedly.”

  Her eyes got big and she grinned. “What? I’m not blind.”

  “Yes, he’s romantic. But I’m not there, so… probably nothing. When I met him, he hated Valentine’s Day. I remember the first time in college. His brother, Aaron, was stumbling all over himself for his girlfriend, and Ryan acted disgusted by it all. He was so cool. I mean, he acted like he was the shit.” I lowered my voice in my best Ryan impression. “I don’t fawn. I’m not the fawning type. I bask in the fawning!” A little giggle erupted in my chest as I remembered. “He was so ridiculous.”

  “Cause he was, right?”

  I rolled my eyes at her exaggeration. “Whatever. That idiot attitude was what encouraged him. Basically, he was obnoxious. I had a date that year, he didn’t.” The chocolate ice cream was calming my stomach down. It tasted good, and I was almost finished with the entire pint. “I ended up blowing off my date to hangout with my best friend.” I fell into my thoughts.

  “Aaron. Chill, dude. Stop fidgeting, for Christ’s sake! You’ll scare the shit out of her.”

  “Shut up! It’s only because you’re never invested in your relationships that you can be so cool about women. I actually care about this girl.” Aaron was agitated.

  “You’re right. I’m not the fawning type.” Aaron seemed confused by Ryan’s statement. “I don’t fawn. I bask in the fawning.” Ryan touted, grinning.

  Aaron frowned blankly back as I watched the two of them. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You! You’re a mess. Get your balls back, man!”

  “Well, some of us have to work at it, pretty boy.”

  “Yeah, Ryan, you have it easy! I mean, look at that mug!”
I huffed, feeling sorry for Aaron. He was cute, but Ryan was… stunning. “It’s not as if you’ve ever had to work for it, so cut Aaron a break!”

  I was sitting on the chair at the other end of the sofa in the apartment Ryan shared with Aaron. I tried to concentrate on my calculus assignment.

  “Shut up, Abbott.” He nudged my shoulder and that familiar tingle ran through my entire body. “You’ve probably got gaggles of poor assholes just waiting in line with hearts and flowers today. What happened to that sap making googly eyes at you in the library yesterday? Poor bastard!” Ryan scoffed.

  My eyes lifted from my assignment, and I scowled at him. “Martin Frank? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  One side of Ryan’s mouth quirked in a smug smirk. The guy was a nerd, and I wasn’t all that interested because I was in love with my best friend, and I had to cover however I could manage.

  “Yeah, you guys could probably use the grease in his hair for lube.” Ryan continued to goad and tried to smother a laugh.

  I smiled and bit my lip, my eyes locked with Ryan’s deep blue ones as I tried not to grin. “Um, not all women need lube you know, Matthews. Maybe you aren’t motivating enough.” I could hardly contain my laughter as I gave as good as I got. He turned the tables as usual.

  “Humph!” He snorted in disgust. “That’s not why they need it,” he said dryly.

  “Ugh,” I moaned. My cheeks lit up like a firecracker. “Whatever. Your ego knows no bounds.”

  “It’s part of my incredible charm.”

  Andrea shook her head. “You guys have a lot of great memories.”

  Her words brought me out of the past and into the present and the gravity of the situation. My expression sobered.

  “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.