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He was kissing me, his movements soft and his mouth back on mine. Our tongues searched for each other, finding the other one in the middle and dancing together for a moment. I was plastered to the couch. I couldn’t move my body, but I needed to do something. Anything. Because the temperature inside my body was worse than anything I’d ever felt in those long blackout moments. The interminable days that dragged on and on.
“Uh-huh,”I replied, my hands moving gently about his body, up and down his toned back. I could feel his gaze on me, but I didn’t dare open my eyelids, my skin flushing with embarrassment at the mere thought. “The powercame back.”
I wanted to facepalm myself at the obvious remark. I was never this awkward, and this man just?—
He chuckled lightly, his body moving off of me and pulling me with him to place us side by side on the couch. He was smiling blindingly, more than the lights overhead. So bright, I had to look away because it was painful. The reminder of his sister and of what we had oncealmostbeen. Maybe? Maybe I was remembering wrong, and I was fictionalizing and romanticizing the patient-doctor relationship we had. He was a nice man, charming, and so confident.
“Yeah, I know.”
What did he know? I was losing my train of thought, so concerned with whatever just happened, and he was so relaxed, so calm next to me, smiling and chuckling along tothis.
I stood from the couch and walked to the fridge, looking for a way out of this. I didn’t even remember the last time I kissed someone, let alone how to behave after.It’s a freaking kiss!
I opened the fridge, then closed it again. It had remained closed for the whole day—a lesson drilled into my brain by my father no less than five hundred times throughout my life—and even closed, I knew there was nothing inside for me to eat or drink. So instead, I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured some water from the tap.
“What are you doing?” he asked. He was still sitting on the couch. His head was tilted back on the cushions, eyes closed against the harsh lighting, so bright in what had beena completely blacked-out evening. The candles were still flickering, slowly losing their flame as time passed.
“Just getting some water.” I flinched because he knew I was avoiding him. “Would you like some?”
“No,” he drawled. He stood up, slowly stretching his body to its full upright position. He bent over the coffee table, blowing out every single candle with the utmost dedication, like he was dragging his feet, trying not to leave. “Thank you.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, pouring the remainder of the water down the drain, not even thirsty anymore. I stood there, frozen on the spot, just looking at him because for a fraction of a second, I couldn’t believe what had just happened. Three years ago, this was all I wanted. But the circumstances had changed, and maybe now it was too late.
He spun on his heel and took a few steps towards me. My mouth opened and closed multiple times. His hand reached out and grabbed my waist, pulling me hard against his body. He took a deep breath, and I closed my eyes in anticipation, goosebumps erupting all over my skin, weakening my knees.
“Stop freaking out,” he whispered in my ear.
And then his lips moved down my neck, slowly and surely.
Kiss.
By my jaw, an intimate peck.
Kiss.
My temple. The corner of my eyes, where they crinkled when I laughed.
Kiss.
Our noses bumped, and then his forehead rested on mine, and he took one more deep breath.
I blinked, stunned into silence. Planted on the floor. Not being able to move an inch. Something hung in the air between us. Like this time, maybe it could be different.
“I’ll see you later.” He smiled. “Have a good night,linda.”
My alarm clock was blinking next to me in the dark. There was no point in setting the time again if the power was going to go out eventually. Whenever the storm season passed, I would take the time to get it back to its regular programming. But for the time being, it stood there on standby.
It was the early hours of the morning, and there was a light breeze coming into the room. The A/C wasn’t running, so the fresh air was a welcome respite from all the heat. But the strong smell of the flowers was keeping me up at night. And I could still feel his lips on mine. And the reminder of his gaze on me still burned my skin hot.
I jumped out of bed without even glancing at my phone. I wouldn’t get any sleep, so might as well be productive, get anything done. Whatever needed to be done.
Being up so early reminded me of the first fewyears of my residency. Getting used to unpredictable schedules, covering for colleagues and friends, and just trying to learn on the go took a toll on a lot of us. By the time we were close to finishing, only three of the original five residents remained, so it was a tight group. A lot of the cases we saw at the hospital were long-term, so it was also a close group of patients and their families. Very similar to what I experienced in Tres Fuegos, but the nature of the diagnostics was different. Here, in this town, people knew me, knew my family. There was a sense of intimacy that came with the small town.
At the hospital, we had built our relationships over time.
A scratch echoed through the big house, snapping me from my thoughts. The cat was at my bedroom door, asking to be let in. And so I quickly changed and left for the practice.
The light in Dr. Martín’s living room was on, and I could see movement inside, two bodies going back and forth to what I knew was the kitchen. I walked into my office and dropped my things on the reception desk without a second glance. I scanned the waiting room, seeing two books out of place in the corner, in the small play area that children used while waiting for their appointments.
