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What was I doing? These were my friends here. I was not scared they would judge me or point out my mistakes. I was fairly convinced that if I ever needed to hide a body, Jessica would butcher it and make the rest of our friends scatter the remains around town.
...But part of me was gripped by paralyzing fear. They were indeed my friends, and they would never judge, but everyone in this room took an oath.
First, do no harm.
I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all the measures that are required...
...I will respect the privacy of my patients...
...I will remember that I don't treat a fever...but a sick human being, who's illness may affect the person's family...
...Above all I must not play at God...
All the words came back to me like a flood just like back in the day when my whole class recited it out loud on the lawn in front of Blair Hall. We swore to live by those rules, and the past couple of weeks, I had violated every single one. My only excuse, pathetic as it was, was that I did it outside my practice. I was still a good doctor. I was just a pitiful excuse of a man.
What terrified me was for once, Zach would try and be the bigger person.
...And he'd try make me do the right thing. Let her go. Let her be. The only thing that I couldn’t do. My heart was not that strong, nor that honorable.
"I'm in a big mess." My voice, usually so calm and controlled was shaky now, sounding like my words were crumbling when I let them out in the room.
I let go of London and Wendy and dragged my feet to the couch, where I sat and let my shoulders fall in defeat.
London, the sweet angel she was, rushed to me for comfort.
"James, you know we're all here to help, right?"
"Baby, come on, if Sullivan says ‘a big mess’ he probably means he forgot to file his taxes. When are they due anyways?"
For once, I was grateful to hear Zachary speak out of his ass. It was the one thing that made this moment feel less like a funeral. My funeral.
Somehow, the discussion shifted from me to tax season, and I should have been grateful and try to sneak the fuck out of here, buy myself a couple more hours, but my stupid tongue seemed to speak for itself.
"I'm married."
All conversation in the room died in an instant and all were left in shock. As a doctor, I should have been better at delivering bad news. Zach's bear paw came to my shoulder, and I got to see something rare in his eyes: worry.
"My man, your divorce come through a couple of months ago. You know that, right?" He spoke with calm, like he was explaining it to a child.
"No, Zach, I mean now. I am married now, with..."
"Holy fuck! James Sullivan, did you elope with some unknown woman who now lives in your house? With my baby goddaughter? WHO'S ALONE WITH HER RIGHT THE FUCK NOW?"
Zach went from calm and steady to full on roaring in my ear.
"I... It’s worse than that, Zachary. Sit down and fucking listen." He listened and so did everyone in the room. "I am living with a woman; she believes we're married, and yes, I met her when I was in Boston."
London cut in asking for details. Yay, fun.
"Wait, what do you mean she believes?"
Inhale. Exhale. Hold. Repeat. Get it over with.
"Rita is a memory loss case," I said, and it was like all the windows of the room crashed with a sharp sound. Whatever reaction they wanted to have became stuck, so we were all watching each other. I felt like I was the newest panda in the zoo.
After a couple of agonizing minutes, Jessica shook the shock off of her.
"You mean you met her in recovery? Oh, my God, James, is she your patient?”
