Forward Page 3

  I can’t. It will wreck me.

  I start to stitch his hand, shocked with how steady I am despite my sprinting heart. I feel his eyes on me, but I ignore him. I have to or I won’t make it through. “You’re good at this,” he whispers.

  “Don’t.” The word flies out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  “Don’t what? Tell you you’re good at your job?”

  “Just don’t.”

  “Lara, I—”

  “I said don’t,” I shout and immediately regret it. I hate that I just let him see how affected I am by him. I hate how he came into my workplace and made me unprofessional.

  I just hate him.

  Mercifully, he remains quiet while I give him the best damn sutures of my life. Finally, I clean up after taking way too much pleasure in sewing his skin and ramming a needle into his muscle. Picking up my work phone, I call Sue to come in and check the stitches before I can discharge him and go back to pretending like he didn’t just fuck up my whole world. Again.

  “Mr. Katz?” Sue says, walking in smiling at him like everything is just great.

  “You can call me Levi,” he replies, making me cringe slightly. I feel his eyes on me, and it’s taking everything in me to keep mine stuck on the teen pregnancy poster behind him.

  “Levi.” She nods with a smile in her voice. “Let’s see how Lara did here.” She puts on gloves and starts examining his hand. “Looks great.” Her eyes roam over the sutures. “Perfect, Lara” She glances over her shoulder at me, smiling.

  “Yes, she is,” Levi says under his breath and I feel my face heating. I don’t know if it’s from anger, pain, or a combination of both.

  Either Sue ignores him, or she didn’t hear what he said, because she continues on with her spiel. “You’ll need these out in five to seven days or so, not longer than ten days. Your primary care provider can do it. You don’t have to come back here for that.”

  “What if I want to? The service is well worth the wait.” That gets me to look at him, and his cocky smirk tells me that was his exact intention. Bastard.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she says looking back and forth between the two of us. “It would be a very long wait, and not really appropriate for the emergency department,” she tells him, all business. “You can discharge him, Lara, and then I need you in trauma two.” Sue looks to me and then back to him. “It was nice meeting you, Levi.” She smiles then turns to give me a pointed look before leaving us alone again.

  “Keep it clean and dry as best you can,” I tell him as I bandage the wound, and hand him the discharge paperwork I had printed up before Sue came to see him. I’m anxious for him to go.

  He takes the paperwork, and I turn to leave the second it’s placed in his hand. I don’t even make it to the curtain before he calls out to me. “Can I make an appointment with you to remove them for me?” I freeze, staring at the thin blue curtain. “No one touches me quite like you do,” he says. He is standing behind me now, breathing on my exposed neck and making me shudder.

  Fucking asshole.

  “No. You’ll have to go somewhere else.” I turn and glare at him, my anger getting the best of me. “I’m sure you know how to do that.” With that I leave the room as quickly as my Danskos will take me. I turn the corner, hoping he’s not following, and practically sprint right into Amara.

  “Whoa, babe, slow the fuck down. What has you running like a bat out of hell?” she asks, steadying me by putting her hands on my biceps.

  “Nothing. Uh, I told Sue I’d meet her in trauma.” I try to move past her but she slides back in front of me, halting my escape.

  “What happened with Tom?” she asks, inspecting my eyes with concern etched in hers. Clearly she’s thinking that’s why I’m acting like an irrational bug. Her eyes travel to my hand—I assume to look for a ring—before trailing back up to my face.

  I can’t tell her about Levi. That’s a conversation for another time. Especially since she doesn’t know anything about him. “Tom wants me to move to London with him for a year,” I tell her, my voice lacking all of the emotion I’m feeling.

  “Holy shit. Are you going?” she all but shrieks at me.

  I shrug. “I have to think about it.”

  “No wonder you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

  I laugh humorlessly, because she doesn’t know how close she actually is to the truth.

  “I gotta run, we’ll talk later.” I push her aside and head straight to trauma, hoping for a good distraction from the firestorm in my head, and if I’m honest, in my heart.

  4

  “You wanted to see me?” I ask, as I push open the doors to trauma two. Sue is sitting on a rolling stool, charting against a metal tray. I’m surprised to find the room devoid of a patient, or even the aftermath of a trauma. Especially considering we were getting traumas when I went in to suture Levi.

  “Yes, I did.” Her eyes draw up to mine. “You did great work in there. Those sutures were your best yet.” I nod, not really in a place to thank her for the compliment. “We’ve slowed down a bit now, so you can go back to fast tracks if you want.”

  “Yes, that would be great.” I’m relieved. I need something mindless to keep me occupied.

  I turn to leave, but she stops me. “Lara, was everything okay with that patient?”

  I twist back to her confused. “What do you mean?” I didn’t think my discomfort with Levi had been that obvious. I’m a freaking professional, dammit.

  Damn you, Levi.

  Why do I have a bad feeling that this will be my new mantra from now on?

  “You just seemed a little. . .uncomfortable. Did he come on to you?”

  I laugh, maybe with an edge of contempt. “No. He didn’t. He was fine,” I sigh. I have to give her something, she’s my mentor. Not only that, if I do leave with Tom, I need her to be on board with it.

  “I’m sorry if I seemed off in there.” I shift my weight, tucking some hair behind my ears. “Tom asked me to go to London with him after graduation. He has work there for the next year.”

  “Wow, that’s something.” She’s smiling at me. I thought she might be pissed since they all but offered me a job here after I graduate. She rolls away from the tray she’s writing on, stands up and walks towards me. Her short, light brown hair is still perfectly styled despite the night we’ve had so far. “You seem a bit of a mess about it. Want to talk it through with me?”

  I smile at her, because damn, she’s awesome. I mean, how many ED docs take time out of their crazy schedules to do this with their student or their subordinate? None. That’s how many. “I’m kind of a mess,” I laugh uncomfortably. “I don’t want to leave my work.”

  She smiles like she understands this. “I get it. You’re just starting your career.” I nod and she puts her hand on my shoulder, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. “You’ll always have a job here, Lara. If you need me to make your start date next spring, I can do that. It’s my fucking department.” I laugh a little at that and she smiles, her brown eyes dancing. “Don’t let this job be the reason you put your life on hold.” I’d hug her if that was appropriate. It’s not, so I don’t, but I give her my best smile anyway. The one that tells her just how much her words mean to me.

  “Thanks Sue. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

  She nods, removing her hand. “Good. Now get back out to triage before we get pulled under again.”

  I turn, pushing open the swinging doors to go and do just that, feeling a little lighter after talking to her.

  The night stays consistently busy, and by the time I finish up it’s going on eight in the morning. I’m beyond exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Between Tom asking me to go to London, and seeing Levi for the first time in seven years, my brain is in overdrive. I’m afraid that despite my overwhelming fatigue, I won’t be able to sleep without chemical help. Not that I normally do that, but the occasional Benadryl is sometimes needed.

  I had o
riginally told Tom that I would go back to his place after my shift, but I texted him around six this morning that I just wanted to go home and crash. I said I’d come over once I woke up. I need time to allow myself to really think about what seeing Levi means to me, and I can’t do that with Tom around me.

  I also need to think about London.

  A lot.

  The wonderful man texted me back that he’d wait for me to have dinner and to come by whenever I wanted. That he loved me. Damn thoughtful, considerate bastard.

  I walk into the frigid, bright sunshine of the early January morning, wrapping my coat tighter around myself to ward off the wind. I stop dead in my tracks for the second time tonight when I see Levi standing up against the wall of the building. His expression is unreadable.

  He just watches me.

  I watch him back.

  What the hell is he still doing here?

  “Yo bitch, wait up.” Amara’s voice startles me from behind as she runs to catch up. “You headed home or over to Tommy Boy’s?” she asks, looping her arm through mine, unaware of the staring contest I have going on with the guy not even two feet from us. Levi cringes slightly when she says Tommy, but recovers quickly. I would have missed it if I’d taken my eyes off of him, but I didn’t. They’re glued to his. “Hey, did you hear me?” she asks, smacking my shoulder.

  “Um, home.” I respond.

  She may have been totally oblivious to my little stare-off with Levi, but that didn’t stop her from checking him out. He steps towards me, and I can’t tell if it’s to speak to me or to walk by. I shake my head infinitesimally, just in case it’s the first option.

  I’m not ready to talk to him. I don’t know if I’ll ever be, but I certainly don’t want to do it in front of Amara. I don’t want to have to go there with either of them. Even though Amara is my best friend and roommate, she knows nothing of Levi. Amara starts incessantly chatting about an old man that grabbed her ass last night.

  I’m not listening.

  Levi steps back, looking pained, but I don’t care. He has no right waiting for me after work. What the hell could he possibly want with me after all this time? I’m finally able to turn my head, pulling my eyes away from his hazel ones, pretending to listen to Amara bitch about her shift while we walk home.

  I don’t know why he came back. What he wants with me. If he even wants anything? Was he just checking on me? Did he want to talk?

  The unknown answers are killing me, and part of me is very tempted to go back and demand them from him. I can’t though.

  I need distance.

  And time.

  I need to not breathe in his familiar scent that always made me feel at home. I didn’t look at him in the hospital, but in the light of the morning, I did. I really did. His dark hair is styled differently than it used to be. No longer unruly, it’s shorter on the sides and longer on top. It looks more professional, but still kind of bad boy-ish at the same time. He’s taller and more built than last I saw him, though I suppose that’s what seven years and becoming a man does. I didn’t notice what he was wearing, neither last night nor this morning. Not because it wasn’t worth noting, I’m sure, but because I was either avoiding him altogether, or couldn’t pull my eyes away from his face.

  By the time we got to our apartment, my head’s splitting. I pop two Tylenol PMs, walk into my room, strip down and throw my nasty scrubs into the hamper. I wish I could just go to bed, but after an eight-hour shift in the ED, I need a shower.

  “Wanna talk about it?” Amara’s voice comes from my doorway.

  I don’t. I really don’t, but I also know she won’t go away unless I give her something.

  “I haven’t decided anything,” I say, leaning against my bathroom door playing with the tie on my robe. “I told him I’d think about it.” I shrug.

  “He and I have a lot more talking to do,” I grumble, not really able to look at her. I hate keeping things from Amara, but I need time before I can have this talk with her.

  “Okay. I want details, but I’m kinda thinking you should go.” That gets my attention, and I raise my eyes up to find hers. “Even though I’ll miss the shit out of you. It could be exactly what you need to move forward.” She doesn’t wait for my reply before turning and leaving. Her words about moving forward recycle over and over in my head all through my shower and until sleep finally catches up to me.

  I wake up around three in the afternoon, feeling more rested than I would have thought. I hop in the shower again because the one this morning was to disinfect, this one is to wake me up and make it so I can actually brush my hair. Enjoying the hot water, I’m feeling good.

  Resolved somehow.

  To what, I’m not really sure.

  I dress in a black V-neck sweater, skinny jeans and riding boots. I even blow-dry my hair and throw on a smattering of makeup. Usually I forego both and just throw my hair up. When I’m done, I look at myself in the mirror, much the way I did last night. I wonder how different I look compared to the last time I saw Levi.

  I’m almost tempted to dig out my old shoebox filled with the stuff I just couldn’t bring myself to throw out. Pictures of us—of Levi—traveling, and with our friends. His old t-shirt that I was wearing when I woke up and realized he left me. Not just back to his dorm, but gone.

  A year-and-a-half relationship stuffed into a tiny box.

  It’s not even full.

  I need answers. I know this. I also know that I don’t plan to seek them out. I could look up his address on his patient information from last night, but I won’t. As much as I need those answers, I’m also still too hurt to want to see him again.

  Amara is still asleep when I leave, so I write her a note informing her that I’m going to Tom’s for the night. I have the next two days off work and only one class and one clinical on Monday. My clinical is uptown at Columbia, working in the pediatric ICU, thank God. I get a break from the ED, and I love working with those kids.

  I exit my building walking toward the bus stop on 23rd street that will take me across town, where I can walk the extra few blocks south. It’s cold, but thankfully not as cold as yesterday. I tuck my gloved hands into my pockets and fold into myself as I walk into the wind, my hair whipping behind me. I’m really glad I took the time to dry it or it would be frozen. I hate winter. It’s only a little after four in the afternoon, but it’s already almost dark out.

  I look up, feeling like I’m being watched, and sure enough Levi’s there, across the street, watching me. Following me? I guess he trailed us home from the hospital this morning. He knows where I live now. That should scare me. He could be some creeper, but he’s not. I know him, whether I want to or not.

  Contemplating whether or not I’m going to speak to him, I decide against it when I see my bus pulling up to the stop. Running the last few steps, I take out my MetroCard so that I’m ready, and can avoid getting yelled at by the other passengers if I make them wait even two extra seconds.

  Not daring to turn around on the off chance that Levi follows me onto the bus, I tell myself it wouldn’t matter even if he did. The second the doors open, I push my way onto the bus, pay and then walk towards the back. There are no seats, which is just as well, so I stand holding onto the metal bar and try not to think of all of the germs on it.

  I can’t help it, it’s the nurse in me.

  We see viruses and bacteria everywhere we go.

  Thankfully it’s Saturday, so even though there are no available seats, it’s not overly crowded. The doors close and I relax, taking a deep breath of the nasty aroma of body odor and exhaust fumes.

  I jump when I feel a hand touch my waist, I’m about to scream until I smell his familiar scent. I sigh out as he stands behind me. Close. His hand clutching my waist like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he eases up. “Get your hands off me,” I bite out, trying to step out of his embrace.

  “What?” Levi husks quietly into my hair. “You can touch me, but I can’t return the favor?” I try to ste
p away again, looking at the other passengers who respectfully ignore us. He squeezes my hip just to prove his point. “You look beautiful,” he says into my ear, moving closer to me. I brush my shoulder back, trying to put some distance between his mouth and my ear. Distance I really need if I’m going to be able to think clearly.

  “No, you can’t touch me.” I twist my body, forcing his hand to drop. I’m facing Levi now, though I’m looking anywhere but his face. “Why are you following me?” The question flies out without cognitive thought. I suppose it’s the most benign thing I want to ask him, so I don’t try to retract it.

  “Where are we going?” he asks instead, avoiding my question. We, very nice. Moving his face so that it’s directly in my line of sight, he places his hand on my hip again.

  I hate him. I hate him so much. I hate him being here. I hate him invading my space and my mind. Most of all I hate him for trying making me feel again, after I’d spent years training myself not to.

  And it took so long to get him out of my system. Fucking years.

  “I’m going to my boyfriend’s apartment. Where you’re going I couldn’t say.” I narrow my eyes slightly. “I suppose that hasn’t changed.” I keep all malice out of my voice. I can’t let him know what his presence is doing to me. How just seeing him has me working all kinds of overtime. His eyes darkened fractionally—the only indication that my words had any impact.

  His cocky expression never wavers.

  “Maybe I’ll come with you. I’d love to meet him.” Levi smiles wider, and I so want to glare at him but I somehow refrain. “Does he know about me?” He squeezes my hip for emphasis. I’ve given up trying to free myself. What’s the point really? I look past him outside and realize that I only have another three stops before my own.

  “He knows of you, yes.”

  “Does he make you scream his name like you used to scream mine? Does he make you beg him never to stop?” he growls, making sure I see the heat dancing through his eyes. Making sure I feel the memory he’s trying to instill.