Chapter Thirty-Seven (Everything Changes)

Previously, on "Memoirs Of A City Girl":
Ch. 36 (Hello Like Before)
-Dr. Benson gave me a week to decide on the residency position.
-I had a dream of Emma spending time with her family at the lake.
-William asked if she was happy and she assured him that she was, 
  especially after she stopped the affair with Jesse.
-But she was not prepared to run into him at the lake after six months,
  with a pregnant wife named Victoria.
-She also didn't realize how jealous she would feel at the sight of another woman with Jesse.
-It turned out that William was Jesse's lender when he purchased a house.
-Jesse said to Emma, "He should be my son" when he saw John.
-Every night, Emma would play "Somewhere In Time" on the piano while her family watched.
-Even her own family could not cure her of her feelings for Jesse.
-I woke up from the dream, only to find Brad at my door.

*Strong language*



Location: 1012 Pomona Promenade
Date: Friday, 11/4/2011
Time: 6:37 p.m.

It's like one of those dreams when I try to scream but nothing comes out.  My heart hammering, blood coursing, platelets shoving each other as they race through every vein that's supporting my consciousness.  I stand there frozen, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me.  Is he really standing at my door, piercing me with his pale blue eyes, with this excruciatingly sober expression on his face? Everything, and I mean everything stops: movement of air, rustling of leaves, friction of fabric, my lungs expelling oxygen, my own thoughts.  A portion of my life plays itself in his eyes, as if I'm watching my own self in a movie.  I watch the unsuspecting, idealistic girl fall in love with this boy who seems to know the secrets to her heart.  I watch her drift into a sea of bliss, or what some would call happiness, at times getting lost, but finding the detour to reality.  I watch her beating heart drop from his hands in slow motion, like some priceless antique vase hitting a cold tile floor, it's fragments scattered everywhere.

B...r...a...d.  I see his name in my head as I acknowledge his presence, but my mind is having difficulty forming the sounds.  Every letter is a painful breath, as if my own lungs are being attacked by a foreign body, a toxic substance...or poison.  Even the muscles in my mouth refuse to form the sounds that make up his name.

"I'm sorry...for showing up like this." His voice makes its way through my ears, making it even more evident that I'm wide awake, and not hallucinating.



"You have some nerve." I mutter, feeling my breath return to my body, allowing me to voice my thoughts.  My hand holds on to the doorknob as I try to keep my whole arm from shaking.  I might end up breaking the damn thing.  I remind myself to take quick, shallow breaths, to remain calm.  Despite the negative memories flooding my mind, tempting me to ball up my fist and pound into the glass, just to see how much I would bleed.

His eyes briefly look down at my hand gripping the doorknob before they return to my face.  He seems to sense my uneasiness and whispers, "We need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you." I shake my head, feeling my nostrils widen as my breathing grows deeper.  My eyes narrow at every deliberate word coming out of my mouth.  We need to talk?  As if I don't have a say in this? As if it's not an option? But my hand betrays me.  It slowly turns the doorknob, giving him enough space to slip inside.

"Thank you." He drops to his knees before I can even blink, wrapping his arms around my waist.  Behind his pale blue eyes are shadows of emptiness, a sort of desperation that I only see in someone that's gone through great loss...or in the midst of soul-searching.  I know those shadows all too well.  I've seen them in my own self.  "Just give me five minutes and I will leave you alone for good.  I don't know what else to do."

"Fine, make it quick." 

"If you just walked away
What could I really say?
Would it matter anyway?
Would it change how you feel?"



Unable to run any longer, I let myself slide down against the wall, letting the floor support all of the weight in my body.  I knew this day would come, when I had to face him eventually, but I didn't expect it to be now.  I wrap my arms around my knees, protecting myself, as I count the number of steps on the stairs.  I can feel him slide down beside me, close enough for our arms to touch.  This nearly makes me jump, as if the cells in his body are calling mine, waking up their dormant memories.  He's right here, next to me.  I'm immobilized.  And all I can do is wish for time to move faster as I mutter, "Dr. Benson called earlier."

"Oh yeah? What did he say?" His eyes smile as he briefly turns to me, then focuses his gaze on the stairs.

"He offered me the residency position." 

"Good.  I'm glad."

"Brad, why are you doing this?"

"I'm just...trying to make things right."



"So you think you can just get me a job, come here and everything's okay?"

"No.  I know I fucked things up."

"Do you?  Do you really have any idea what you put me through?"

"No.  And I'm not even going to pretend that I do."

"First, losing the baby."

"Yeah...."

"Do you have any idea what it's like to have a miscarriage and not be able to reach anyone, not even you?? All the blood, the searing pain...and to have to go through it alone.  I needed you that night, and you weren't there.  I needed you, Brad!  The doctor said I lost a lot of blood and she told me to go home.  I wasn't even supposed to show up to work the next day.  And on the way home, all I could think about was how we could work things out, maybe start over.  I still loved you, and I would have done anything to make things work."

I expect him to say something, but he remains silent, nodding his head, as if he's waiting for me to finish.  He simply sits there, looking down at the wooden floor.  He's usually very opinionated and has a knack for justifying things he's done, even when he's clearly at fault.  This would lead to ugly arguments in our relationship.  But this time, there's a complacency I haven't seen before, and it's unnerving.  

"And then...and then I came home...and...I heard you guys upstairs...and I saw her..." My voice cracks, feeling my eyes fill up as I recall that day with painstaking detail. "My own sister..."

He avoids my gaze.  Instead, his eyes slam shut as his fingers slip through his raven hair.

"How could you?  What have I ever done to deserve that? The other person in this world besides my mom that made me feel like shit...and you had to pick her.  What have I ever done to you?"

"Nothing....absolutely nothing." He buries his face in his hands, shaking side to side as he lets out a deep, strained breath.  I can see the flushed skin peeking out from beneath his trembling fingers.  "I don't deserve you, I never did.  I always manage to fuck things up. Maybe my dad is right.  I'm just a fuck-up.  Nothing but a loser in a doctor's coat."

"Brad...don't say that."

"It's okay.  I wish I could undo what I've done.  But I can't.  I should go."

Just when he raises up from the floor, I grab his arm, nearly causing him to stumble on top of me. "No...don't leave."



His eyes travel to my hand grasping his arm, even as he slowly slides back next to me on the floor.  I can feel the pulse beating underneath his skin, quickening, along with his breath.  Despite my mind's attempts to make sense of things, I'm being overpowered by this aching need to hold him close.  My nose picks up on the familiar scent of his cologne, stirring emotions and memories deep inside.  I can feel my heart panic as he inches closer to me, his eyes never abandoning mine.  The moment he scoops me up in his arms, I feel myself go limp as tears escape my heavy lids.  Getting lost in his scent, I cling to him as he squeezes me hard, as if he's afraid I'll disintegrate if he lets me go.  Amidst my muffled sobs, he kisses my forehead and mumbles, "God, I miss you.  So fucking much."

"It's been hard...really hard." I bury my face on his neck as words leave my mouth like quick gasps.  I'm in the arms of the very same man that broke my heart, but he may be the only one that can make things right.  The very fact that he's here, acknowledging what he did and giving me solace in his arms, brings an unexpected sense of comfort...and peace.  As much as I tried to convince myself that he's better off as an erased memory, I knew I couldn't run forever.  I knew sooner or later,  I had to face my wounds..and face the man that inflicted them.

"I know, baby." His pulse cries along with mine, one successive beat after another, as he gently strokes my hair.  The warmth of his body radiates into mine, robbing my ability to think.  I stop fighting.  I simply let go.  For once, I give in to whatever this is.  Somehow sensing this, he shifts his legs so that I'm nestled perfectly between them and he holds me up.  He kisses my forehead again, his warm breath lingering on my skin, and whispers, "You're in this strange town because of me.  I should have been there for you.  I should have tried harder.  Then we'd still be in Bridgeport right now, and I'd be rubbing your belly."

"I wished I had gone with the baby..."

"What?"

"After I ran out of the condo...it was just too much to deal with.  So I told the cab driver to take me to the bridge."

"No..."

"Yeah...I got out of the cab and I walked towards the railing.  And I wondered what would happened if I jumped."

"No, baby, no.  Please, don't tell me you were going to...no."

"I didn't know what else to do, Brad.  I just wanted the pain to stop."

"Shhhh....I'm so sorry."

"But everything changes
If I could 
Turn back the years
If you could 
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel"



I find myself wanting to kiss him.  Right then and there, while cocooned in his arms.  The urge to taste his lips is even more urgent that my need to breathe, and it completely screws with my head.  I should be angry. Especially knowing those lips touched Naveah's.  I should be shoving him against the wall.  But for some reason, I'm driven to run my hands underneath his shirt, desperate to feel his hot skin, desperate to lose myself in my desires again.  I want him.  Even angrier at myself for thinking this, I push him away and jump up, yelling,  "No.  No!  You can't just come in here and say you're sorry...and...and...expect me to melt...and take you back! It doesn't work that way, Brad!"

He eyes me carefully as he gets up weakly, with a dejected expression on his face. "I'm not expecting anything.  I know you're angry, and you have every right to be.  Look, I should just go.  I won't waste any more of your time."

"Damn you! Do you have to be so damn reasonable? I can't even hate you right now!  Fine, leave then! Leave like you did last time!"

"Lyn, I don't know what you want me to do.  Please tell me.  Tell me what to do."

"I just..."

"Hate me then.  Hate me...hate me."

"I hate you. You...you messed me up. I hate you, you asshole!"

"I know..."



"I thought you were the one. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together. I thought you loved me. I thought---" 

He grabs my ass and presses himself on me, making me gasp.  Before I can even think, he devours my lips, his hot breath all over my face.  Despite my weak attempt to push him away, his tongue forces its way into my mouth, sending out waves of electricity down my crotch.  Oh my God, oh my God.  The taste of his lips send my pulse into a frenzy, my breath leaping into my throat as his hard body gyrates into mine, mimicking the movement of his tongue searching the insides of my mouth.  I try to keep my own tongue under control, desperately reminding it not to play with his, to not cave, but it's hungry for him.  It wants to taste him, to bite him, to suck him, to draw blood.  Weakly, I manage to say, "No! Get off me!"

"Shit...I miss these sweet lips." He groans as he rabidly stares at my parted mouth, then back to my eyes, his iris intensifying into an ocean blue.  His pupils dilate rapidly, like a junkie that just took its first hit after a year of being clean.



He throws me against the wall.  With his chest rising and falling, his arms imprison me as he gazes into my eyes, and all I can do is lean against the wall for support.  My pulse continues to hammer as I brace myself, feeling completely helpless as the room begins to spin.  With one hand, he possessively grabs my jaw until his hungry mouth crashes into mine, making my heart jump out of my chest.  I close my eyes and absorb the buzzing of electrons radiating all over my body as his wet tongue slides inside my mouth, grazing my tongue, licking the tip of my teeth, stiffening as it reaches for my throat.  I can taste his warm saliva, a mixture between mint and mocha.  This just sends me over the edge, and I want more.  I find myself pulling him close as I open my mouth wider and seek his tongue, dancing with it, playing with it, a choreography we know well.  

"I hate you..." I murmur as I bite his lower lip.  My hands find themselves tangled in his thick, raven hair.

"I love you." He whispers hoarsely as he presses his crotch against mine, his bulge clearly growing.  Softly, he plants kisses all over my face, as if I'm some fragile thing, leaving them on my cheeks, nose, eyelids, chin and jaws. "But hate is still an emotion.  At least you feel something."

"You're such an asshole." My words curse him, but my tongue continues to trace his lips..slowly...deliberately.  

"I know."



"You are the only one that makes me feel like this, you know that?" He steps back to study my face, his arms still encircling my waist.  Then he takes the palm of my hand and places it right at the center of his chest, where I can feel the drumming of his heart. "When I kiss you...I feel it here...right here." 

"Why are you telling me this now?" I find myself pulling away as I search for the truth in his eyes, but he tightens his hold on me.

"Because I should have.  You are the only woman I have ever loved.  Somehow you got inside this heart of mine, and you saw something good.  And I started believing that I was actually a good person."

"You are a good person.  You were the one that got me into medicine remember?"

"I was?"

"Yeah, when we first met.  When you kidnapped me from the library, remember? I was studying for Organic Chemistry and you suggested med school."

"Oh yeah..." He smiles, lost in a moment of nostalgia.



"I miss your skin...your smell..." His hands slip inside my blouse, lightly caressing my stomach.  Even as he lifts my top over my shoulders, I fail to protest.  

"Oh God..." My hands follow the ridges of his abs as I push his sweater over his chest, until it eventually lands on the floor.

"Your smile, your voice...." He manages to unbutton my skirt without breaking my gaze, slowly pulling it down my hips.  

"Mmmm..." I let out a soft moan as I tug at the zipper on his slacks, helping him out of the confines of fabric one leg at a time.  The sight of him in his gray boxer briefs, his muscular body within my grasp, overpowers whatever common sense I have left.  I forgot how hot he is.  I forgot how he can get me so worked up with a mere touch.

"Your body next to mine, how soft it is..." With one hand, he expertly unhooks my bra, while the other hand gently squeezes a freed breast, causing me to moan deeper.  I watch the fascinated look on his face as he studies every detail of my breasts, biting his lower lip. "They're so damn beautiful..."

"Oh my God, this is crazy.  We...can't...do this..." I close my eyes as I arch my back, savoring the warmth of his hand on my skin.  His touch wakes up this side of me that's aching to be ravaged, to be teased, to be tortured until I'm begging for more...just like he used to.

"Then tell me to leave." He whispers as he swirls his tongue around my nipple, leaving a wet trail as it hardens in his mouth.

"I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close
The devil in you I suppose
Cause the wounds never heal"



In the midst of my moans, he turns me around until he's right behind me.  Pulling me painfully close to him, his hands roam up and down my body, from my hips, to my stomach, all the way to my breasts, then back down to my thighs.  Then his hands rest on my hips as he presses his erection against my ass, his sultry breath on my neck, asking,"You feel that, baby? That's what you do to me."

"Brad...stop..." I cry out, almost begging, feeling my panties get soaked.

"You don't want me to kiss your neck? Like this?"

"No..."

"Or reach between your legs and feel how wet you are? Like this?"

"N-no.  S-s-stop..."

"I need to taste you...so damn bad. Please say yes."

"I h-hate you..."

"I know."

*Copyright 2013 Lyn C.S.*
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"Everything Changes" by Staind
Video by: ComatosexProductions