Love M.D. (16 page)

“It was a hit and run accident, in
a stolen vehicle. Her killer was never found.”

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

“I get angry every time I think
about it. There was never any justice for my mother.” 

“I understand. Do you think the
case will ever be solved?”

“It’s still open, but I doubt it. Every
few months I get a call from the detective who’s overseeing the case, but as
time goes by, they become less and less frequent.”

“Keep the faith. Maybe one day you’ll
get a surprise.”

“I hope so, baby,” he says, kissing
my cheek. “Do you ever think about returning home?”

“No. San Francisco is my home. That’s
one thing on which Zach and I always agreed. The memories there are just too
painful.”

“Not even just to visit?”

“Not sure. It’s something I’d
really have to think about. But between my memories of Paris and here, San
Francisco is my happiest—was my happiest. It’s where Zach and I built a life
together again. Now he’s gone, too. It looks like no matter where I go, I’m
cursed.”

“That’s not true. Zoë, I want you
to know, no matter what, I will always, always be here for you.”

“Thank you. If I haven’t said it
yet, thanks again. These last few weeks, I have no idea how I’d make it through
if you weren’t here. You put your entire life on hold to be there for me and to
support me. No number of thank
yous
will ever be enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me, baby.
Just remember I’m here.”

For a moment, I think about his
words, and us. It’s been nearly a month since we started out with a mutual
attraction and exclusive amazing sex. But since then, my feelings have grown,
and I feel like I may want more. In my head, I hear Zach’s repetition of “take
a chance.” Maybe it’s time I do.

“Is the ball still in my court?” I sit
up and look at him.

“Ball in my court? What are you
talking about?”

“Are you still open to more than
just sex?”

“It was never
just
about
sex, Zoë. Trust me when I tell you that. What about you?”

“It was never just about sex for me,
either, but I think I was apprehensive about getting into another relationship.”

“Was?”

“Maybe it’s time I took a chance.
Maybe it’s time I move on… try again.”

“Are you sure?”

I exhale. “Yes.”

He pulls me into an endearing hug
and just like that, I make the second biggest commitment I’ve ever made to another
person in my whole life.

The phone rings
later that night as Morgan lies in
bed, fast asleep beside me. He wakes. After saying “hello” three times, he
hangs up, pulls me in his arms and returns to bed. I can’t sleep; he means so
much to me. I stare at him for hours as he slowly inhales and exhales. At some
point, I give in. I drift.

The next morning, I wake to an
empty bed. I slip on some panties and one of Morgan’s shirts and head
downstairs in search of him. Peaches and Pixie bask in the sun by the pool,
watching him as he swims.

He’s already made a pot of coffee,
so I pour myself a cup and sit outside on one of the Adirondack chairs facing
the pool. My crew comes to greet me, but Morgan is engrossed in his swimming
and does not appear to notice me. I suspect this might be part of his daily
routine—his body contours tell me that. He looks up, and a broad smile
stretches across his face when he sees me. His hair lies all back as he propels
his body out of the water by his palms.

“Good Morning,” I say.

“Good morning to you, too.” He
kisses me and wraps a nearby towel around his hips. “Hungry? I was going to
make you some breakfast.”

“Maybe a little,” I respond.

“Good, because I prepared
everything already,” he says, stretching out his hands to help me up. “I just
need to fix the eggs.”

In the kitchen, as he scrambles
eggs on the stovetop, I circle my arms around his almost naked body from behind.

He switches off the stove and turns
to face me. “Did you sleep well?”

“A little. It was more than the
last few weeks, so I guess that’s a step in the right direction.”

He raises my body and places me on
the island, pecking me softly on the lips.

“I could prescribe something to
help you get some rest, or I can recommend something herbal. You hardly sleep
anymore.”

“I know. Maybe in a few days if
things don’t improve.”

“Let’s go on a trip somewhere. It’ll
take your mind off things.”

“We’ll see. Jada invited us to go
on a getaway with their family. I don’t know the specifics yet, but I think it
might be a good idea to spend some time with Megan. Zach would have wanted
that.”

“Let me know as soon as you have
the details so I can make sure my shifts are covered. It’s easier to change
things around at the clinic. I want to see you smile again.”

He kisses me softly on my neck and
my lips, and I’m surprised when I feel the need for more than just his sweet caress.
Circling him in my arms, I slowly part my lips, and feel his tongue gently
graze mine. I pull him closer by the towel that surrounds his hips and slip my
hands over his groin.

“I miss you,” I whisper.

“I miss you too, baby.”

I’ve woken him and as I massage his
arousal, I take pleasure at the feel of his hands roaming over my body. He lifts
his shirt over my head before slipping his tongue into my mouth. I pull the towel
away and push his trunks down as far as I can stretch. With my foot, I shove
them further until they drop to the floor. He kicks them away while I glide my
hands over his rock-hard erection.

“How do you want it?” he asks.

“Go down on me,” I reply, deepening
our kiss. “Then I want you to screw me from behind.”

He places one of my legs on the
countertop and slips the fabric of my thong to the side. I welcome the feel of
his fingers slipping between my folds as he circles them above and inside me.

As he devours my lips, I relish the
feel of his firm body against my palms. He lowers his head, planting soft
kisses on my neck, then he circles my breasts. Moments later, he pulls my
panties away.

He lowers his head and teases me
with kisses circling my core. With his tongue, he starts a pleasurable onslaught
of licking and sucking my clit, intermittently and forcefully moving his
fingers over me. The heat rises between my thighs but I pull away, reserving my
release.

“Oh God, babe. I need you inside
me.”

He pulls me off the counter and
turns me around so my back is to his front. He places one of my thighs on the surface,
pinning it in place with his arm then he slowly enters me from behind. Slowly, slowly
moving in and out of me.

“Zoë, you feel incredible,” he whispers,
nibbling my ear. With his fingers, he begins an endless assault on my front.

“Oh Jesus, Morgan…harder,” I cry as
my body becomes submerged in pure sexual pleasure.

Bending me over the counter, he
gives me what I crave, what I so desperately desire.

“Oh yes, Morgan.” My knees go weak.
I know I’m close to losing all control.

“No way, not yet,” he says,
slipping out of me. Holding my hand, he walks me to the living room sofa. He sits,
centering his body in the middle, leaning back. I’m about to straddle him when
he stops me.

“Come here, baby. I want to taste
you all over again.”

He raises my leg above his
shoulder, and places it on the back of the couch. He sits up, and with two fingers,
repeatedly penetrates me and unleashes his tongue over me again.

Tingling sensations exude through
my thighs. “Oh God, yes, babe.” I tighten my grip on his hair, basking in the
pleasure that he is so eager to give me.

Finally, he relents, and I lower my
body over his erection. I move slowly and sensually over his arousal, grinding
my hips into his. He sits up and clasps his hands in mine as I rotate my body
over his. Sounds of raw sex fills the room—the continuous sounds of his
reentry, the sexual cries that escape my lips, his labored breathing and groans
as I bury him inside me.

“Yes, Zoë, yes,” he says, holding
me by my hips, slamming me firmly above him and taking over my lips once more. Sitting
back, I repeatedly pound my hips into his, while circling my core with my
fingers.

“Oh fuck, Zoë,” he shouts then
pulls me close in his arms, boring inside me. I feel him continuously spasm,
and as I rapidly continue to circle my pleats, I join him in his prolonged
release.

I lay with my head against his
chest, breathing heavily. We relax while he folds me in his arms and kisses me
tenderly on my lips. I can’t help but get distracted and erupt in laughter when
Peaches sits watching me, slowly twisting her head as if she’s utterly
confused.

“What’s so funny?”

“We have an audience,” I laugh. Now
Pixie has joined her, too.

He sits up, “What? They never saw
you have sex before?”

“No, they’re virgins. We’re corrupting
my poor animals.”

“That must have been quite the show.”

I coil on top of him, and it is
while I’m there that I realize today, for the first time in almost three weeks,
I laughed.

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.”

I kiss him again. I don’t want to
think about why I’ve not been able to laugh.

“I’m hungry,” I eventually say.

“After
that
workout you
should be. Go tidy up upstairs while I clean up and sanitize down here. By the
time you’re back, I’ll have your plate ready.”

As I head up the stairs, the phone
rings. The cheerfulness in his voice and his exaggerated words brings a smile
to my face—it’s Abby.

After dropping my
crew home, I head into the office.
I haven’t gone into Zach’s office since he died. The envelopes Jonathan gave me
catch my attention. Despite the fact I said I didn’t want to look at them, I
open the one with the paperwork related to my brother’s death.

·
        
Pronouncement of
Death form

·
        
Death Registration
form

·
        
Burial Permit form

There is some other paperwork as
well, including documents from the hospital and the coroner’s office. As I
peruse through the paperwork, my eyes glide across the words on each document.
I still can’t believe this. I still can’t get over the fact that I’m looking
over documents that pertain to my brother’s death. How could he be gone, at
such a young age. What could have possibly caused my brother’s death?

I search the document from the
coroner’s office. It is actually just a leaflet, but there are no results of
what might have actually caused Zach’s death.

As I look at the death registration
form, my gut feels, hollow, sore, empty. The days have gone by, but I can’t get
used to this. I don’t know that I will ever get used to this.

My eyes scan the document from the
hospital. For a moment, I know I must be mistaken. I blink and try to refocus.

Admitted by:
Dr. Morgan Drake M.D.

Operating Surgeon:
Dr. Morgan Drake M.D.

My heart plunges to my toes.

Morgan operated on Zach before he
died.

Why wouldn’t he
mention this? Why would Morgan lie to
me about something like that? Furthermore, if the coroner was involved, where
are the results of the autopsy?

Tears run down my cheeks, and I
struggle to keep my hands steady as I dial his number. My thoughts run… I
trusted him,
I trusted him
and he lied to me about the most important person
in my life.

“Hey, baby.”

“Can you please explain to me why
your name is all over the documents from the hospital pertaining to my brother?”

He stays silent for a second. “Can
I talk to you about it later?”

“No. I want to talk about it now.
Why didn’t you tell me you operated on him? Damn it, you admitted him! Why
would you keep that from me? And how could you just let me leave the country
when you knew my brother needed me?”

“Zoë, I know you’re upset, and I can
explain, just not right now. I was just about to go into the OR.”

“Did something happen? Why did he
die under your care? Where are the results from the autopsy that was done?”

“Zoë, I’ll answer all your
questions, but I have to go now. I’ll stop by your house on the way home.” And
with that, the call ends.

Something is wrong. I know it, and
I want answers—now. If he thinks I’m going to wait for him to tell me what’s
going on, he has another thing coming.

Zach was my only flesh and blood. If
he died because of some mistake a hospital made, I will make them pay for it,
even if the doctor involved is the man I happen to be seeing right now.

I return all the documents to the
envelope, grab my purse and head to my vehicle. If he can’t tell me what
happened, someone at that hospital damn sure will. In record time, I’m there. I
approach a woman at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my brother died here a
few weeks ago, and I have some questions about his death.”

“Do you have a Medical Record
Number?”

“I have all this paper work here,” I
say, handing her the envelope.

She looks through some of the
documents, keys in some information on the computer, and makes a phone call.

 “No one from our patient advocacy
department is available at the moment. If you’d like to wait, I’ll try to see
how soon I can get someone to attend to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I reply, sitting
on a bench nearby.

“Excuse me one second, please,” she
replies then goes to a room in the back.

Twenty minutes later, she still has
not returned, but two doctors approach me.

“Miss Jenkins?” the older of the
two men asks.

“Yes.”

“We understand you had some
questions. Would you like to come with us?”

 
“Yes,” I respond then look
at the woman. “My paperwork please.”

She returns all the documents to
the envelope and hands it to me.

“Thank you.”

“I am Doctor Roberts and this is
Doctor Francis,” the older of the two blonde-haired men says.

“Hello. I’d like to know—”

“Please. Not here,” Dr. Roberts
says.

Noticeably, neither of them were at
Morgan’s party. I’m not sure what difference that makes but the thought crosses
my mind.

I follow the two doctors into a
conference room, and they close the door behind me. They offer me a seat but I
choose to stand.

“Please, what are your concerns?”
Dr. Roberts asks.

“I just received the paperwork from
my brother’s death. He died in this hospital a few weeks ago, and I noticed an
autopsy was done. Why haven’t I been notified about the results?”

“What was your brother’s name?” the
younger Dr. Francis asks. “Do you have a Medical Record Number?”

I look through the paperwork in
front of me and hand the document to him.

While Dr. Francis works on a
computer, Dr. Roberts continues.

“Miss Jenkins, it isn’t uncommon
for an autopsy to be done.”

“That’s all well and good, but it’s
been three weeks, where are the results?”

“The full report takes several
weeks. I assure you, once it’s in we’ll send you a copy immediately.”

“Why did my brother die?”

“I’d rather not speculate, Miss
Jenkins,” Dr. Roberts says. “You have my assurance that once the results of the
autopsy come in, you will receive a copy of the report. At that time, I will be
more than happy to explain the findings to you.”

“How soon can I expect to hear from
you?”

“Anywhere between a week and ten
days. I promise you Miss Jenkins, this is all standard operating procedure. There
is absolutely no need for you to worry.”

“Good. Because I promise you,
Doctor Roberts, if I find out otherwise, you can expect to hear from my
lawyers. My brother was my only flesh and blood, and if this hospital was in
any way responsible for his death, you had better put your legal department on
notice.” A tear streams down my cheek, and I angrily wipe it away.

Dr. Roberts walks over to me and
rests his hands on both my shoulders.

“I realize this is a difficult time
for you,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry you lost your brother.”

My emotions are still raw. I
realize that maybe I need to calm down and not take my anger out on innocent
people. That said, I’m still furious with Morgan for lying to me.

I search through my purse and hand
him my card. “I look forward to hearing from you. I’m sorry if I took my frustrations
out on you. Thank you for your time.”

“We understand,” Dr. Roberts
replies. “It’s difficult to lose someone you love. You have my word. Once those
results come in, I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.” I pull all the
documents together and walk away.

On the drive from the hospital, I
call Jonathan to ask him about the legalities of this and to find out if it
really takes this long for the results to return. His assistant tells me he’s
out of state until next week. The hospital has ten days. I’ll reach him when he
returns.

My mind drifts to Morgan. Why?
Things were going so well. Why did he have to lie to me? Why did he have to be
involved in any of this? How could I ever be involved with a man who may have
played some role—even in the slightest—in my brother’s death? Why did he let me
leave?

At home, I
curl up on my sofa and try to read
a book, but even that proves difficult. At some point, I must have drifted off
to sleep, because I wake to Peaches barking and the sound of my doorbell. Rain pounds
the roof.

Through the windows, I see Morgan. I
let him in and turn my back in silence. I walk into the living room and stare out
the window into the woods. I can’t even look at him. I want answers, but I’m so
afraid I might not like what I hear.

The silence between us is
deafening.

“Zoë, I’m so sorry,” he eventually says.
“Zach was referred to me a few weeks ago. He had a tumor in his stomach. He was
trying to avoid surgery, so he came to me for a second opinion.

The first time I saw him was that
afternoon when I was with you in the guest room and got the emergency call. I
was sitting in my office when he came in. At the time, he said he didn’t even
realize that it was me he was about to see. He said every time you spoke you
referred to me by my first name so it hadn’t occurred to him. That was the
first time he made it clear to me that he didn’t want you to know about his
condition.”

Through his reflection in the
window, I see him rake his fingers through his hair.

“I tried to avoid surgery, too. I
sent him for further testing, but when the second set of results returned, because
of the size and the location of the tumor, it had to be removed. He was the one
that called that night we were on our first date. He didn’t want you to know.
He asked that I keep it confidential and by law, I had no choice. On several occasions,
I tried to get him to tell you, but he wouldn’t. Even at the last minute, I
tried to convince him to call Megan but he refused.”

He pauses and takes a deep breath. I
wonder if he regrets his decision to stay quiet.

“For the better part of a day, Zach
showed all the signs of a great recovery. I checked on him before I left the
hospital and everything appeared normal. There are never any guarantees, but I
was certain the surgery went as planned and all looked well. It wasn’t until the
next morning, just after I got off the phone with you when you were in Greece, that
the hospital called and told me there had been a problem. By the time I got to
his room, he was already gone.”

Morgan’s voice goes soft then
silent. He exhales, looks down and shakes his head. By his expression, I sense
anger within him—not at me, but at something.

“Apparently, the night before he
didn’t feel well, and he called Megan,” Morgan continues, “but soon after she arrived,
he stopped breathing due to an allergic reaction to one of the drugs—at least
that’s what we think happened. They performed an emergency tracheotomy to get
him breathing again, but it didn’t work. They never called me to tell me there
was a problem. By the time I got there in the morning, it was too late.”

“How long did you think it would be
before I found out? Were you going to go on lying to me forever?” I ask, gazing
into the dark and dreary woods. Still, I feel his presence mere inches behind
me.

“No. I wanted to find out what went
wrong as much as you did, that’s why I asked for an autopsy to be done. The
report won’t be in for another ten days.”

“I know. I spoke with Doctor Roberts
and Doctor Francis today.”

“You were at the hospital?”

Glaring at him, I reply, “You didn’t
think I’d just roll over and let this slide, did you? You lied to me, Morgan. This
started weeks ago. Not once did you try to tell me.”

“I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.
Zach was clear about that. I tried on many occasions. Then after he died, you were
dealing with so much… and I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to have
concrete answers when I told you. If I told you then, I was afraid you’d push
me away.”

“Are you sure you weren’t just
trying to cover your own ass?”

“No,” he shouts adamantly. “I did
everything right on that operating table.”

I scream at him, “If you did
everything right then why the fuck is my brother dead?”

“Zoë, it looks like he was allergic
to one of the drugs. There’s no way we could have known that.”

He steps closer to me and puts his hand
on my shoulder. I quickly pull away. “Baby, I promise you, I tried my best.
When the report comes back, you’ll see. We’ll move past this.”

I turn and glare at him. “Well,
your best wasn’t good enough. Just like it wasn’t good enough for that poor woman
who died under your care a few weeks before Zach.”

He steps back. His eyes turn glassy.
I know I’ve hurt him. A sliver of regret rushes through me, but I quickly cast
those feelings aside.

“Morgan, I trusted you, and you
betrayed me. Do you really think after losing the person who meant the most to
me in the world, the one and only person I’ve loved my whole life, that I’d
just move past this?” Tears stream down my face, but I manage to maintain my
voice. “You’re delusional if you think that there could ever be a
we
beyond today.”

“Zoë, no. Give us a chance.”

“I gave you a chance, and this is
what you did. You lied to me… for weeks. And you took away my brother. He was
your responsibility. He was in your care. You were supposed to make sure he made
it out of this alive, to see him through this, and now he’s gone.”

He puts his arms around me as I
sob. I try tearing myself away from him, but he holds me in his arms.

 “Morgan, he was all I had left,” I
cry. Then gazing into his eyes, I say softly, “He was my only family and you
took him away from me. I could never forgive you for that. I wasn’t there for
him, I didn’t get to tell him that I love him, and I never even got to say
goodbye. I should have been by his side. Instead, you let me fly to the other
side of the world.”

“Baby, no matter how much I wanted
to tell you and felt like you needed to know, I couldn’t. That was Zach’s decision
to make. He decided he didn’t want you or anyone else to know. I told him the
risks, I told him the dangers, but he’d made up his mind and I had to respect
his wishes. You can have a life past this.
We
can have a life past
this.”

“You really don’t get it, do you? A
part of me is missing. I lost my twin brother, my best friend. I will never go
to his wedding, or be an aunt to his kids or have a family. He was my only flesh
and blood, my only relative, my only family and you took that away. That was the
one time he needed me the most in his life, the one time I should have been there
and I wasn’t, all because of some stupid decision you made.”

My heart is gone, broken, like shattered
bits of ice poking my skin from the inside. I didn’t think it was possible, but
I feel an even greater sense of loss. I can barely look at him.

“Zoë I had no choice.”

 “You had a choice!” Screaming at
him, I viciously pound his chest. The pain is agonizing—from my heart all the
way down to my stomach. “You should have told me not to leave. Why didn’t you
tell me stay? I should have been there. You should have told me something was
wrong with my brother. You let me fall for you even when you knew you were
lying to me about the most important person in my life. How can I ever trust
you again?”

“Zoë—” he shouts, grabbing both my
wrists.

“Leave,” I whisper.

“Zoë, baby, please look at me,” he
says, trying to get me to face him.

“No. It’s over,” I shout, pushing
him away. “Now go. I hate what you did to my life. Get the fuck out.”

“You shouldn’t be alone at a time
like this.”

“I don’t need your sympathy. I don’t
want to see you anymore. I don’t need you in my life.”