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I walked up to him and placed my hand over his heart. “Darling––I’m just now getting acclimated to a life where no one wants you dead, and I’m not going to spend the rest of mine in a gulag. I love my husband. I love being married to you. I also love my new job. Can I possible enjoy that for a little while longer before we throw a baby into the mix?”
By the time I was done with my little speech the side of his mouth had curved up in a sweet, adorable smile. He nodded briefly and placed a soft kiss on my lips.
“Why don’t you meet me at the clinic and we can go out to dinner from there?”
That seemed to smooth his ruffled feathers. His expression relaxed. I exhaled the breath I was holding. Crisis averted, at least for now.
My days at the clinic had fallen into a comfortable routine. And what I mean by that is that we would examine patients and discuss the diagnosis and treatments. Then, outside the examination room, Yannick would fire off a thousand other potential diagnoses, quiz me on those symptoms and what my course of treatment would be––all this while I was being timed. It was like facing a firing squad every day. And I loved every minute of it.
By seven pm we were almost done with scheduled appointments. A young woman, no older than twenty-one, walked in. Under her olive skin, there was a pallor to her that concerned me. Hunched over and walking slowly, she was clearly in pain. Agnes noticed as well and immediately escorted her to an examination room while Yannick finished up with another patient.
I entered the examination room ready to take her information and found her lying down on her side. When I tried asking her in French what her name was, she stared back at me with a blank expression. I tried asking her again in English and received the same vacant stare.
Yannick walked in then.
“I don’t know what language she speaks but it isn’t English or French.” His dark, intelligent eyes moved to the woman who was on the examination table, assessing the situation. Her eyes were closed, beads of sweat collecting on her brow.
“Signora, come ti chiami?” I asked in Italian. Her eyes blinked open and she answered. My eyes connected with Yannick’s.
“Italian.”
“Her name is Arabic,” he added. A couple more questions and we had ferreted out that she was in Switzerland illegally and she had gotten pregnant. We didn’t pursue the topic further, however, it was easy to deduced that she was in the sex trade.
Looking at her, small, long dark hair, the similarities in our stories was not lost on me. Could I have ended up like her if I hadn’t met Sebastian? The question sank in bone deep and rattled me.
After a thorough examination, Yannick concluded that she had had a miscarriage. She categorically refused to go to a hospital so Yannick did his best to make her comfortable.
In the now empty lobby of the clinic, we waited for her to get dressed. “What’s wrong? You look pale.”
Distracted, I glanced up and found Yannick watching me strangely. I’d never seen him look concerned before but he was at the moment.
“Nothing. She just reminds me…” My voice got lost in the midst of all the memories that came rushing back. “I could have been her.” I shrugged. “If I hadn’t met my husband––who knows what would have happened to me.”
Yannick looked thoughtful. “He’s a good man?”
That made me smile. “The best.” I looked at the man standing before me. He was a good man. He had also become a good friend. “He wants a baby.”
Yannick scowled. “What about your career?”
“That’s the problem. Can I do both, and not have both suffer from neglect?”
“Tough question.”
“Yes,” I exhaled deeply. “Thank you for listening.”
Yannick placed his large comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “Anytime.”
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
It was as if a cold bucket of ice water had been dumped on my head. We both turned to face the growling voice. Yannick eye’s narrowed. The two men squared up. While on the outside I remained frozen, on the inside my heart was beating savagely inside my chest.
And then it happened all at once…I couldn’t believe my eyes. Sebastian launched himself at Yannick and grabbed him by the lapels. I sprang into action trying to separate them while Yannick gave as well as he got. I was sent sprawling onto my rear end by the two titans trying to shove each other around.
They only stopped and separated when the chair I fell against toppled over. Sebastian came over and hauled me to my feet. Glaring viciously, I pushed him away.
“Yannick, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I measured my words, afraid an avalanche of foul language was about to come tumbling out. Wiping the sweat off his brow, he nodded in answer. I walked out without looking in Sebastian’s direction once.
