Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4)

by R. C. Martin

  He had been my boyfriend. We’d fooled around before. Even that night, I couldn’t deny that I’d been willing to go so far. Crying rape just felt pointless. So I did nothing. I didn’t even tell my parents about it. I knew my dad would go ballistic, and mom would be worried sick, so I just told them that we got into a horrid fight and broke up. I made Harper swear to tell no one, and I endeavored to move on with my life.

  Up until now, I’ve never been concerned with getting myself checked out. With Judah in the picture, I decide that it’s time. I’d like to explore my options for birth control. I know it’s a big decision, one that I’ve waited years to make—but I feel ready. I always thought that I wanted to be in love, but with Justin, even then I wasn’t sure. A while later, after I started to go to church and I came to know the Lord, I learned just how sacred sex is. I know the value of my body, of my soul, and of my mind—I know that I am worth far more than the sum of my parts—and I know that when I let a man into my body, I’ll be emotionally tied to him in ways that only sex can bind.

  My feelings for Judah run deeper than I ever thought they would. The things he does to my body, even with just a single glance, I feel tied to him already. I’m well aware that sex with me has been something he’s wanted from before he even knew my name—but now, after weeks of waiting, I know that it’ll mean something to both of us. He hasn’t said as much, but he doesn’t have to. He’s calling me his girlfriend, something I know he hasn’t done with anyone in ten years. I don’t need to hear the words when I know already that he’s given me a piece of his heart, his heart that he protects so fiercely.

  So, first thing Monday morning, I call in to make an appointment with my physician. When they tell me that I can be squeezed in for an early afternoon visit, I don’t hesitate to accept. I skip my lunch hour, offering Andy and Geoff a vague explanation, and then spend that hour at the doctor’s office.

  Dr. Murphy has been my physician since the first time I needed to see a doctor after starting college. An ear infection drew us together, and I’ve been a loyal patient ever since. Today, he’s just as kind as always, and I’m relieved that discussing the various forms of birth control available to me isn’t so much awkward as it is wildly informative. He leaves me with a bunch of pamphlets, encouraging me to take my time deciding which option works best for me, and then a nurse comes in to draw my blood. It’s not long before I’m headed back to the gallery, my evening plans now consisting of research and ice cream.

  Upon my return to MTA, I spot Geoff with a customer. Then, after a quick glance at the calendar on my desk, I note that Andy is out meeting a new artist. I make myself busy, organizing and filing a few things until Geoffrey comes and interrupts me.

  “So, where did you go?” he asks, taking his seat beside me.

  I chuckle, shaking my head at him as I ask, “Did you just sell that piece?”

  “Yes. Now, answer my question.”

  “Why are you being so nosey, Mr. Fink?”

  “Why are you being so evasive, Theodora?”

  I stare at him for a few seconds, and he holds my gaze unwaveringly. It’s not long before I cave, knowing that I can’t really keep news like this from my best friend.

  “I’m thinking about having sex with my boyfriend, so I went to the doctor to talk about my birth control options,” I blurt out.

  His eyes grow as wide as saucers before the biggest shit-eating grin lights up his face. “You little, secretive bitch—I can’t believe you weren’t going to tell me that shit!”

  “Geoff, I just told you,” I laugh.

  “Fuck. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous, baby girl,” he says, shaking his head at me, his expression still one of awe. “When you’ve done it, I want to hear every detail. That man knows more than a few ways to an orgasm, I’m convinced.”

  My cheeks grow warm as my mouth falls open. I cough out a sigh before I reach over and smack his arm. “I’m not telling you anything!” I insist.

  “Freckles, as your best friend—”

  “No,” I tell him, shaking my head. “Sorry, babe. I’m a lady. I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “God—fine,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You at least have to tell me once you’ve done it.”

  “You know I will.”

  “And I need to know if it was good.”

  I smile bashfully, thinking of every orgasm Judah has given me so far. “I’m sure it will be.”

  “Okay, now, lets see this information you got from the doctor.”

  I scrunch my brow in confusion. “You want to discuss birth control?”

  “You bet your ass I do. I may not be well versed on the subject, but that’s what google is for, baby girl. Besides, I’ve seen The Vagina Monologues. I know enough, and we aren’t messing around with this shit. Show me what you’ve got.”

  I grin at him, suddenly overwhelmed by how incredibly fortunate I am to have him as my closest friend. I grab his face and kiss the side of his mouth before I mutter, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he says with a wink.

  It’s late Thursday afternoon when my phone rings. The number lighting up my screen informs me that it’s the doctor’s office calling. I know they must have the results from my last check-up, and I’m too anxious to hear confirmation of what I already know to wait another moment.

  “Excuse me,” I say, interrupting Brittany. Both she and Logan fall silent, watching me as I stand from my seat at the conference room table. “I have to take this call. I’ll be back in a moment.” I know our meeting was just about over, but I don’t care. I answer the phone. Two minutes later, I re-enter the room, pleased that I can now report to Teddy that my dick is more than ready for her pussy.

  “Is everything okay?” asks Logan.

  “Fine,” I mutter, a slight scowl pulling at my brow. I’m not really sure why she’d assume my taking a call could be any cause for alarm; and I won’t bother questioning why she thinks half of the things I do are any of her business at all. We’re friends, which apparently means she feels entitled to speak on my personal matters.

  “I’ve just never seen you so enthusiastic about a call before,” she continues. “Wait—” She pauses, squinting at me before she asks, “Was that Teddy?”

  “Who’s Teddy?” asks Brittany.

  “His girlfriend,” Logan replies with a grin.

  “You have a girlfriend?!”

  I close my eyes, stifling a groan as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Can we finish discussing what’s on our agenda?”

  “Oh, my god!” Logan guffaws. “You didn’t deny it!”

  “What?” I ask, my scowl deepening as I look over at her.

  “You didn’t deny it—when I called her your girlfriend.”

  I lift my shoulders in an exasperated shrug, staring at her in annoyance. “Your point?”

  She sighs, a slight pout tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Can you just be normal for two seconds? Two seconds, Judah! Just be a normal guy falling for a pretty girl and admit it.”

  I don’t respond right away, my eyes sliding from Logan to Brittany—who appears completely shocked—and then back to Logan. I have no intention of having any sort of heart-to-heart with either of these women about my love life, but I know Logan. If I don’t throw her a damn bone, she’ll never leave it alone.

  “My girlfriend is not up for discussion,” I reply simply, raising an eyebrow at her. “Have I made myself clear?”

  She chuckles and nods at me. “Crystal.”

  “Now, Brittany, what were you saying before?”

  She clears her throat and rolls back her shoulders before she looks at her notes and continues speaking. I don’t hear a word she says—my mind already wandering to thoughts of Teddy, my imagination running rampant with all the ways in which I plan to take her, all the ways in which I plan to unleash her wild—my shy girl.

  I’m away from my phone when the doctor’s office calls Friday morning. When I manage to get a minute to
check my messages, I’m informed that the results from my bloodwork have come back and Dr. Murphy would like me to come back in to discuss a few things. I call back right away, anxious to see him. I’ve done as he’s said, exploring all of my birth control options, and I’ve made a decision about which one I’d like to try. The sooner I can get started, the better.

  Turns out, he has an opening late in the afternoon. I agree to come in at four, and then I’m swept up in the business of work again. At three thirty, as I prepare to leave for my appointment, I discover that I missed a call from Judah. I frown, disappointed to find that he neglected to leave a message. I haven’t heard his voice all day. Nevertheless, I decide to wait and call him after I see the doctor. I’m sure I’ll see him tonight, and I can finally tell him about my visits to Dr. Murphy.

  When I arrive at the office, I’m taken to an exam room almost immediately, where I wait a good fifteen minutes before Dr. Murphy comes in. If I had to use one word to describe him, it would be jovial. He’s a tall man, carrying a bit of extra weight around his middle, and he’s always smiling. Only, today, as he enters the room and sits on his stool, he doesn’t seem his cheerful self. All at once, I start to worry. For the first time since I listened to my voicemail this morning, I begin to wonder if it’s normal to be called back in for the results of a blood screening.

  “Teddy, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m—I’m fine, I think,” I mutter nervously, wringing my hands in my lap.

  He sighs, grabbing his knee and leaning against his hand. “Teddy, I’m afraid I’ve got some difficult news, kiddo.”

  “Oh?” My stomach drops and my heart rate picks up speed as my mind races, trying to figure out what he could possibly mean.

  “Your test results came back with a positive result for chlamydia. Now—I don’t want you to panic. Chlamydia is a very commonly seen STI and it is treatable with a round of antibiotics…”

  He continues to speak, but the sound of his voice seems to be traveling farther and farther away. Now, all I hear is the word chlamydia—over and over and over, it plays on repeat in my head. I hear it, and yet I don’t know what to do with it.

  “Teddy? Teddy…” I hear my name, as if someone is shouting at me from the other end of a tunnel. Then, when Dr. Murphy covers my hands with his, I’m pulled from my daze. “Teddy, are you with me?”

  “I—” I start to speak, but a knot clogs my throat. I try my best to swallow it before I speak again. “I have an STI?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Listen, Teddy—I need to know if you were completely truthful about your sexual history. It says in your file that you haven’t had intercourse in over four years.”

  “That’s true,” I whisper, my eyes welling up with tears.

  “That leads to further cause for concern, I’m afraid. Untreated, chlamydia can also lead to PID.”

  “What?” I ask, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “What—what is a PID?”

  “Pelvic Inflammatory Disease.”

  “I have that? I have that, too?” A single tear rushes down my cheek, but I don’t move to swipe it away.

  “Your bloodwork suggests that, yes, you are a carrier of PID. Though, given the length of time that you have been infected, I’d like to run more tests so that we might know the extent of the damage already caused.”

  “Wait,” I plead, holding up my hands. “Is it curable? Is what I have going to go away?”

  “Yes. You can be treated for both chlamydia and PID; but, Teddy, PID targets your reproductive organs. It is quite possible that a great deal of damage has already been done, damage that cannot be reversed.”

  “What are you saying, Dr. Murphy?” I blurt out, my mind confused and panicked.

  “While you can be treated, while it is entirely possible for you to have a healthy and safe sex life, it may be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for you to reproduce, depending on the state of your reproductive organs.”

  I press my hands against the center of my chest, the sudden ache I feel overwhelming. I cannot manage a deep breath, and the sob that clogs my throat hurts. “What are you saying? What are you saying?” I cry, feeling on the verge of hysterics. “I can’t have babies?” I barely manage to get the words out, the sound of this new reality passing my lips utterly unbelievable. This is not at all what I came to hear. To say that I wasn’t prepared for such news is the understatement of the century.

  “I’m sorry, Teddy. I wish I…”

  Again, his voice fades into nothing. I try and remember how I got here—how I got to this moment, how I got to this office, how I got into this situation. Then I see him. I feel him. Justin. Justin did this to me!

  I clutch at my shirt, needing something to keep me in the present—something, anything, to keep me grounded—to keep me from falling into my worse nightmare. But when I feel Dr. Murphy’s hand on my knee, I realize that there is no waking up from this.

  “I need to get out of here,” I say, standing from the exam chair as I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I’m sorry—this is all—this is all too much!”

  “I understand. Here,” he says, holding out a slip of paper for me to take. “Get this prescription filled and begin treatment right away. I’ll want to see you early next week. We need to deal with this as soon as possible, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, shoving the script in my purse. “I’m sorry—I have to go.”

  It’s all I can do not to run to my car. I tell myself over and over not to lose my shit as I cross the parking lot. As soon as I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, my tears start to fall faster. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think—and the longer I sit, the more disgusting I feel. I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging on the strands to try and remind myself that I’m okay—that I’m okay. Only—I’m not okay! I’m not okay at all.

  I don’t even think about heading back to work. I start my car, and I head for home. It takes me twenty minutes, and by the time I get there, I feel as though chlamydia is not a bacterium that’s living inside of me—rather, it is as if it covers every inch of my skin. I race toward my apartment, stripping off my clothing as soon as I step inside, wasting no time before I start the shower. I turn the water as hot is it will go, and then I climb in.

  It burns, but I don’t care. I scrub myself until I feel raw—and yet I still feel him on me. I can’t get him off—and my heart hurts, and my body aches, and I can’t stop the tears from falling down my face. All I want to do is scream!

  So I do.

  I scream.

  I yell.

  I curse his name.

  I beat my fists against the shower wall.

  And then, I sink to the bottom of the tub, curling my legs against my chest as I sob. I don’t move until the water has run cold and I’m shivering. When I finally get out, I dry off, wrapping my hair in a towel before I throw on a pair of panties, my bright yellow CSU sweatpants, and an old t-shirt. Then, as I make my way to the couch, I hear my phone ringing. For a second, I think of ignoring it. I don’t, remembering that I was expected back at the gallery. Sure enough, when I find my device, I see that Geoffrey is trying to reach me.

  I swipe my finger across the screen and put the phone to my ear, but I can’t make any words come out. All I can do is cry.

  “Freckles? Baby girl, what’s going on?”

  “Please come over,” I whisper. I don’t think about the request before I make it. Hearing his voice triggers my need, and I know that I can’t face this without him.

  “Yeah. Give me a half hour. See you soon.”

  He disconnects without another word, and the tiniest bit of relief grazes over my grief. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I call Harper. I shouldn’t be surprised when she doesn’t answer, but it makes me cry harder.

  Then Judah calls, my phone still in my hands, and I officially lose my shit.

  My knees buckle and I drop to the floor, realization knocking the wind out of me. Up until this very moment, it’s all bee
n about me. My body. My infection. My disease—but the only reason I’m even now aware of my condition is because I was ready to share my body with someone else! Even worse, I could have already infected him.

  I’m disgusting and broken.

  I can’t have babies….

  Did I want babies?

  Does he want babies?

  He won’t want me now.

  What man would want me now?

  Twenty minutes later, I get my answer when Geoffrey comes bursting through my front door. I look up at him from where I lay on the floor, my damp towel unwrapping from around my hair, my messy, wavy mane falling past my shoulders and down my back.

  “Teddy—what happened?”

  “He’s still hurting me,” I whimper. “All these years later, and he’s still hurting me!”

  He scrunches his face in confusion before he pushes the door closed and makes his way toward me. He scoops me in his arms, cradling me against his chest, and carries me to the couch. He doesn’t let me go as he sits, for which I am grateful. I’m not ready to let him go, either.

  “It’s okay, Teddy. I’m right here. I’ve got you. Now—you’re going to have to start from the beginning.”

  It’s one of the worst things in my world, hearing Teddy cry. It kills me every time. But this is different. This guts me. She’s devastated, and I can do not one damn thing. I don’t even feel like my empathy is worth shit. I wasn’t there after everything went down with Justin. I didn’t know her yet—but I love her now, and I know that the news she got today has torn open old scars, creating new wounds the likes of which I will never know.

  She cries so hard, I’m afraid not even my arms can keep her small body from falling apart. It breaks my heart. I’m relieved when she wears herself out and falls asleep. I carry her to her bed and tuck her in, sitting with her for a moment. I hate to leave her, but I have no choice. Neither does she.

  I begged her to call Judah, but she refused. I know my girl. I know how much she cares for that man. Whether she’s willing to admit it or not, she’s falling in love with him. The mere fact that she’s even considered having sex with him says it all. She hasn’t offered that level of trust to anyone—ever. And now, instead of allowing herself to be with the man she wants, she’s pushing him away, afraid that he won’t want her now.