Page 28 of Dr. Scandal Claus
"What are you doing here?" I asked, turning to watch her walk in. Her eyes raked over the room and she crossed her arms over her chest as she grinned wickedly at me. I shut the door, but I was very uncomfortable doing so. Fiona and I hadn't been alone together in a room since the moment I found out she had given her father my secrets—which weren't at all a confession of guilt, just my insecurities and fears. She used them against me and it destroyed me.
"I heard all about that gold digger trying to say you were the father of her illegitimate child." She moved toward me, her eyes sweeping down to my feet and back up to my face. "I came to let you know I'm still around…See how you were feeling." When she stopped in front of me she smoothed her hand down my buttons and patted my chest.
"It's been over for years, Fiona. You aren't getting a second chance. What you did ruined me." I gently took her wrist and removed her hand from my chest, then walked around her and went to pick up my whiskey glass.
"Nick, don't be silly. It's been eight years now. You can't still be holding a grudge against me." Fiona followed me, her heels clicking on my wooden floors. "Can't we let bygones be bygones?"
I straightened with my glass in hand and walked to my old Indiana cabinet where I kept my liquor. I filled the glass and downed it in two gulps, then set it down and turned around.
"I hardly think what happened between us was a bygone." It was taking all my emotional strength not to drag her to the door and toss her out. "You and your father single handedly tanked my career. You had the whole town accusing me of murder, and I had to shut down my practice for six years to recover."
Fiona chuckled and batted her hand, then stepped up to me again and splayed her paw on my chest. "Nicky, please, baby. What we had was good. We were so in love. Don't let this…wretch of a woman sway you against me. We could be good again. You had millions to fall back on. You recovered just fine. And now look at you."
"My parents both died within months of each other right after that, and I went through that alone, thanks to you. I had to hire a funeral service from the other side of the city, someone who wasn't afraid to have my name on their obituary page." I had my hands balled into fists at my sides and she didn't even pay attention. The way she was speaking about Scarlett infuriated me; she wasn't a wretch. She was the most amazing woman I'd ever met, and hearing Fiona talk so badly about her made it impossible for me to stay angry with her.
"Nicky, baby…" she purred, and that used to get me going. It used to push my buttons, make my cock dance for her, but right now I was seeing red. Fiona was acting like no time had passed, like she hadn't destroyed me and left me to lick my wounds in utter isolation.
Her hand slid down my chest and across my belly. She leaned in and her face was so close I could smell her shampoo. "What are you doing?" I asked, but she had me up against the cabinet and short of knocking her over, I had no place to go. Her hand kept moving south, across my groin where she squeezed, and I wasn't surprised to see the discouragement in her eyes when she realized I was as soft as a slug.
"Don't you want me anymore, Nicky?"
"Get your hand off me, Fiona." For the second time this afternoon I had to physically remove her hand from my body, and this time she was reluctant to let go. She had me by the balls—literally—and I had to be gentle or physically harm myself. "I want you to leave." That gossip show had done its damagealready. If news that Scarlett and I were dating and had our own little bit of drama to boot had already gotten to Fiona, there was no telling how the town would react and what people would be saying.
"But I'll suck you…I know how much you like that. Does she suck you?" She refused to back up, so I sidestepped and prayed she'd leave before I lost my patience.
"I'm asking you to leave my house right now, Fiona." I was firm, unwavering in my resistance to her advances and she huffed out a sigh.
"Okay, I get it. You need a bit of space. But I'm not quitting so easily. If I'd have known you hadn't moved on yet, I'd have come years ago…" Her fingers walked up my chest to my face and she rose up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on my jaw. "I miss you, Nicky."
I looked off into the distance, afraid to make eye contact with her. Afraid it would only make things worse.
When she was gone, I poured another drink, locked the doors, went to the bedroom and stripped my clothes off. When my last drink was down, I crawled into bed and passed out. I thought this part of my life was behind me, but apparently I was being haunted now.
21
SCARLETT
Nick hadn't shown up to Ethan's last two appointments. He let his partner in the practice, a Dr. Goodman, take over. Dr. Goodman was a nice man, but Ethan didn't like him. I didn't like him either, but there was little I could do about it. Ethan needed the care, and Nick was the one who knew everything about his case. We'd just gotten him on a new medication too, so monitoring his symptoms was important.
Now, mid-May, after a month of not having seen each other, I knew Nick was going to be here for Ethan's checkup. When the nurse called us in to the exam room, she said, "Dr. Edwards will be with you shortly," and my entire body tensed.
Ethan was doing well now. The medication seemed to be working, and Dr. Goodman was even optimistic that if he continued improving, it could push surgery out three or four years. But that opinion meant Ethan wouldn't be able to play sports that long either. I didn't want him to give up on what he loved most, though the surgery option didn't thrill me. I was truly hoping Nick would say something different, something better.
I was also hoping Nick would speak to me again. When he responded to my text three days later and told me he just wanted some time and space to process his feelings, I thought he meant a few days or a week. It had been a whole month. I missed him, and I wondered if we had anything left now. My heart still loved and wanted him, but I knew I'd hurt him pretty badly. I understood that I had probably ruined things, but my heart held on to a shred of hope that he'd forgive me.
I'd already lost so much. People were talking about me, calling me a gold digger, boycotting the bakery. Two more of my employees quit, including Nellie, who said it was because she felt consumed with guilt over what happened, but deep down I wondered if she was ashamed to work with me now too. Nick wasn't the only black sheep of the town now, and what I feared years ago was happening now.
The strange thing for me was that other than the slump in business, it hadn't affected me much. I didn't care what people said about me. What hurt me was how Nick left me completely alone to deal with it by myself. For Ethan to have to go to school and hear kids mocking him too. I was sad over the whole thing, but I had no one to blame but myself. I did this.
The door clicked open and Nick walked in. He looked tired but fresh. His clean-shaven face revealed no emotion at all. His eyes didn't linger on me or drink me in the way they had months ago. He focused on Ethan, which was probably for the best. If he was going to move on, I had to move on, no matter how much it hurt.
"How are we doing today?" he asked, and he set the tablet he carried on the counter next to the sink as he washed his hands.
"Dr. Nick! When are you coming over for dinner? Mom said you were busy working. Is that true? This medicine is working and I feel better. Can I play soccer?" Ethan was more bubbly than normal. Spring soccer tryouts had come and gone, butsummer soccer would start in a few weeks. I knew it wasn't going to happen, but I just couldn't be the bad guy again, not after having to tell him Nick wasn't going to be around for a while. That was the hardest part about being attached to Nick—knowing Ethan had gotten attached too.
"Well, buddy, I've been really busy." Nick shook his hands off then grabbed a few paper towels and dried them. "But right now we need to talk about your heart, and I just don't know if we're quite ready for soccer." He took his stethoscope and put it in his ears, then pressed it to Ethan's chest, coaching him how and when to breathe.
I watched with nervous anticipation, feeling my emotions wax and wane. Each time Nick looked up at me I felt drawn into his orbit, and he'd look away and I'd feel cold and isolated. I felt like a little girl hoping the boy I liked would notice me. When Nick chatted with Ethan and promised him that next year at this time he'd be playing soccer, I heard the grunt of frustration from my little boy's lips and sighed in sadness. Another year of this, but then he'd be healthy and normal hopefully.