CHAPTER ONE
“ I
poured us some wine.” I smile, trying my hardest to pretend not
to notice the look of disdain on Lucian's face.
“ Trying
to kill me now?” He grunts.
“ What?”
My expression contorts in confusion.
He closes his eyes
and shakes his head. “I'm sorry, it's just been a long day.”
“ Well,
come in and I'll make it better.” I gesture for him to enter my
apartment.
He takes a few quick
strides to get to my living room, then just stands there with his
arms wrapped around himself. It seems like he's putting up some kind
of protective wall. I've never seen him act like this before.
I walk into the
kitchen to retrieve our glasses of wine, then return to offer him
his. He stares down at my hand as if it's a snake waiting to strike.
Hesitantly, he takes the glass from me.
“ So
tell me about your day.” I do my best to remain chipper. Maybe
if I'm kind to him, patching things up will go a lot smoother.
“ Is
that really what you called me over here for?” He watches the
bubbles in the glass. It hurts that he won't look at me, that he's
being so cold.
“ I
told you why I called you over here. I want to make things better.”
I take a deep breath and approach him, resting my head against his
chest.
The part of me that
feels like I know him expects him to take me into his arms. He
doesn't though, and it makes my heart ache. It's like I'm trying to
cuddle a statue. He's unmoving, uncaring.
“ Today
isn't the best day for that.” He disengages from me, taking a
few steps away to set his glass on the bar.
“ Well
then, we could get together tomorrow,” I suggest.
“ I'm
busy tomorrow.”
“ Sunday?”
“ And
Sunday as well.” He turns his head but doesn't look at me.
“It's today or not at all. That's the only reason why I'm
here.”
“ Then
let's make the most of today.” I walk up behind him and put my
hands on his shoulders, kneading into his muscles. They feel like
steel beneath my fingertips, so tense that I doubt I'm doing him much
good.
He sighs, gazing
down at his wine glass. His body begins to relax, and I pray to God
that I'm making some leeway. Instead of speaking, I just continue to
rub his shoulders, then move down to his back. Giving him a massage
while he's standing is awkward, but I'm not about to stop. He
deserves at least this much from me.
“ I
lost a patient today,” his voice is so low that it's barely
audible.
“ What?”
I pause, unable to fathom the weight of what he's saying.
He inhales deeply
and lifts his face towards the ceiling. “She was an older lady,
a long time patient of mine. She came in for her third facelift. I
wanted to do IV sedation on her, but she insisted on general
anesthesia because she wanted to make damn sure she didn't remember
any of it. She went into cardiac arrest in the middle of the
procedure. I did everything that I could, but...”
My hands are
trembling against his back and I can't fight the tears that are
coming to my eyes. They're not for the lady who died though, they're
for Lucian. I can't imagine having to bear such an emotional burden.
He was right, this isn't a good time to be discussing our
relationship. He should have just gone straight home and did whatever
he needed to do to get over this.
“ It
wasn't your fault, Lucian,” is all that I can think of to say,
and I know it's not good enough.
“ I
know, but that doesn't make it any easier.” He turns to me and
our eyes meet. The level of pain that I see staring back at me makes
me suck up my own sorrow and go into pampering mode. All I can think
about is making him feel better. I just wish I knew how.
“ Come
sit down.” I set my glass of wine next to his and then take him
by the hand to lead him to the sofa.
We sit together in
silence for several minutes, staring out into nothing. There are so
many questions I want to ask him about what happened, but I know now
isn't the time for curiosity. Desperately, I try to think of anything
that I can do to
“ I
poured us some wine.” I smile, trying my hardest to pretend not
to notice the look of disdain on Lucian's face.
“ Trying
to kill me now?” He grunts.
“ What?”
My expression contorts in confusion.
He closes his eyes
and shakes his head. “I'm sorry, it's just been a long day.”
“ Well,
come in and I'll make it better.” I gesture for him to enter my
apartment.
He takes a few quick
strides to get to my living room, then just stands there with his
arms wrapped around himself. It seems like he's putting up some kind
of protective wall. I've never seen him act like this before.
I walk into the
kitchen to retrieve our glasses of wine, then return to offer him
his. He stares down at my hand as if it's a snake waiting to strike.
Hesitantly, he takes the glass from me.
“ So
tell me about your day.” I do my best to remain chipper. Maybe
if I'm kind to him, patching things up will go a lot smoother.
“ Is
that really what you called me over here for?” He watches the
bubbles in the glass. It hurts that he won't look at me, that he's
being so cold.
“ I
told you why I called you over here. I want to make things better.”
I take a deep breath and approach him, resting my head against his
chest.
The part of me that
feels like I know him expects him to take me into his arms. He
doesn't though, and it makes my heart ache. It's like I'm trying to
cuddle a statue. He's unmoving, uncaring.
“ Today
isn't the best day for that.” He disengages from me, taking a
few steps away to set his glass on the bar.
“ Well
then, we could get together tomorrow,” I suggest.
“ I'm
busy tomorrow.”
“ Sunday?”
“ And
Sunday as well.” He turns his head but doesn't look at me.
“It's today or not at all. That's the only reason why I'm
here.”
“ Then
let's make the most of today.” I walk up behind him and put my
hands on his shoulders, kneading into his muscles. They feel like
steel beneath my fingertips, so tense that I doubt I'm doing him much
good.
He sighs, gazing
down at his wine glass. His body begins to relax, and I pray to God
that I'm making some leeway. Instead of speaking, I just continue to
rub his shoulders, then move down to his back. Giving him a massage
while he's standing is awkward, but I'm not about to stop. He
deserves at least this much from me.
“ I
lost a patient today,” his voice is so low that it's barely
audible.
“ What?”
I pause, unable to fathom the weight of what he's saying.
He inhales deeply
and lifts his face towards the ceiling. “She was an older lady,
a long time patient of mine. She came in for her third facelift. I
wanted to do IV sedation on her, but she insisted on general
anesthesia because she wanted to make damn sure she didn't remember
any of it. She went into cardiac arrest in the middle of the
procedure. I did everything that I could, but...”
My hands are
trembling against his back and I can't fight the tears that are
coming to my eyes. They're not for the lady who died though, they're
for Lucian. I can't imagine having to bear such an emotional burden.
He was right, this isn't a good time to be discussing our
relationship. He should have just gone straight home and did whatever
he needed to do to get over this.
“ It
wasn't your fault, Lucian,” is all that I can think of to say,
and I know it's not good enough.
“ I
know, but that doesn't make it any easier.” He turns to me and
our eyes meet. The level of pain that I see staring back at me makes
me suck up my own sorrow and go into pampering mode. All I can think
about is making him feel better. I just wish I knew how.
“ Come
sit down.” I set my glass of wine next to his and then take him
by the hand to lead him to the sofa.
We sit together in
silence for several minutes, staring out into nothing. There are so
many questions I want to ask him about what happened, but I know now
isn't the time for curiosity. Desperately, I try to think of anything
that I can do to
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