21. Twenty-One
Twenty-One
M organ
His words sent shivers down my spine. I already knew how Dante treated Good Girls. What did he do to the bad ones? Jesus, ten seconds alone with him and he already had me dripping with need. I put my hands in the pockets of my lab coat and pressed my nails into the palms so I could focus.
“What do you want, Deputy Garcia? Because we both know you didn’t drive all the way up here for a report, we normally fax to the station.”
“You owe Zak an apology.” His voice was flat, but the anger simmering beneath his cool exterior was palpable. “He deserves to know why you ghosted him.”
“What’s to explain? I let love cloud my judgement once and my sister died because of it. I promised her it would never happen again.” I tried to lift my head, but I could not look him in the eyes. “If I stayed with you and Zak, let myself fall in love, I would not be as focused on my patients. I would miss something important, because I was thinking about one of you, and the patient would die.”
“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think? You’re too good of a doctor to let that happen.”
“I've already let my emotions compromise my professional judgment once. The day of our accident, I should have insisted on bringing you to the hospital, but I didn’t want you to be mad at me, so I didn’t press the issue. If you were hemorrhaging or had a clot, you would have died.”
“But I didn't.”
“That's not the point. You might have and if I could make that kind of mistake in judgement with you, I could make it with anyone.”
“That's bullshit and you know it, Morgan.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe it was the truth once. You did blame yourself for Tammy's death, probably still do a bit. But you’re a smart woman and eventually, you would have realized being in love had nothing to do with what happened. Any reasonable person in your position would have done the same thing and let her friend take Tammy home; nobody could have known what would happen.”
“It was not your fault that the driver of the other car had been drinking. Any more than the lack of adequate emergency care in rural areas was your fault. You’re a damn fine ER doctor and because of you, countless people up and down The Keys will never know the type of loss you suffered. That should be Tammy’s legacy.”
“But this idea that if you fall in love, something bad will happen is just an excuse. Somewhere along the way, you became terrified of love, and convinced yourself it would only bring you pain.”
I put my hand on my hip and asked what made him such an expert on what I was feeling?
“Because I have the same fears. I've never had the best of luck with relationships, but that's because I drove people away. Believing they would eventually realize I was unworthy of their love, I never fully let anyone in.”
“And this situation with the three of us makes it twice as scary. Twice the people make it twice as likely one of us could get hurt. But it could also mean twice the happiness. Those are odds I am willing to take.”
When he finished speaking, he was close enough for me to reach out and touch. I clasped my hands behind my back. He was right; it had been so long since I had let myself love; I wasn't sure I was even capable of it anymore. Muscling back tears, I said, “I just can't. I'm not as strong as you are. Please, leave me alone.”
He studied me for a long moment, as if wanting one last image to carry with him. I tilted my head and tried to smile. He turned for the door and said. “You probably should see a doctor. You look like shit.”
A slap across the face would have hurt less, but I refused to let him see me cry. Once I was sure he had left the building, I found an available restroom and locked the door behind me. Then looked at my reflection in the mirror. Dante had been right. My skin was pasty, and there were bags under my eyes. I had even put on a few pounds.
In the land of perpetual sunshine, I was ghost pale. The only time I left the motel anymore was to go to work and back. Worried I might bump into one of them, I had stopped going to the grocery store and was eating whatever Grubhub delivered. I could not recall the last time I had gone for a run. It was no wonder my ass was getting bigger.
Speaking to the image in the mirror, I whispered, “Something has to change. You can not keep living like this.”
The first thing I did when I got off work was call the Realtor and see if she had any new properties for me to look at. She did not, but when I reminded her I was on a deadline; she agreed to make some calls and get back to me.
I then drove to the farmers' market. The sun felt good on my face as I strolled through the stalls buying more produce than I could possibly eat. It all looked so damn good.
When I returned to the motel, I put my purchases into the tiny refrigerator, stripped off my work clothes and dressed for a long mind clearing run. By the time I got back to the room, I was breathing hard and knew my muscles would ache in the morning after such a long layoff. But it felt good to finally get some exercise.
After I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower, my thoughts returned to Dante. Because I had not had sex in several weeks, I was horny as hell and kept thinking how nice it would have been to have him and Zak in the shower with me.
I imagined Dante soaping my breasts, his cock pressed firmly against my cheeks. Zak massaging my sore legs and ass. Then kissing my neck while I stroked him. I closed my eyes and dipped a hand between my thighs. But let it fall away with a loud sob. The hot water ran out before my tears.
How had I made such of mess of things? Dante was right. Tammy's death changed me. Even though I had stopped blaming myself for it, I was still afraid to love.
Losing my sister was the worst pain I had ever experienced. We had been best friends for as long as I could remember and I loved her with all of my heart. Although the love you feel for a sibling might differ from the love you feel for a mate, it does not lessen the hurt of losing them.
It was the real reason I broke things off with Charles and had built an impenetrable fort around my heart. I never wanted to feel that kind of pain again.
Maybe it was the change of environment or because I had been lonely for so long, but since meeting Zak and then Dante, they had slowly chipped away at that fortress until it was on the verge of collapse. I got freaked out and ran.
I wanted to let myself fall in love with them. Give them my heart and trust that they would not break it. But understanding what caused me to be the way I am did not make it any easier to change.
For that, I needed help. But therapy would take too long. So I handled it the way I did any other problem. Over the following weeks, I researched and read the studies on fear and love. In order to better understand polyamory; I also spoke with Cynthia via Zoom.
Besides being a marketing consultant, my cousin also writes a monthly column for an online magazine called The Triad. She was a wealth of information on poly relationships and helped me better understand the dynamics.
“You have every right to be scared. Polyamorous relationships require much more work than monogamous ones.” She held up a piece of paper to the camera on which she had drawn a straight line and labeled the ends Partner A and Partner B. “This represents a monogamous relationship. Where all you have to consider are the feelings and needs of each other. Pretty simple right—yet people manage to screw it up all the time.”
She drew another line from the first to form a V. She labeled the terminus of the second line Partner C. “This represents the type of relationship you thought you were in. Juggling two partners is never easy, but like many people, you made it work.”
“Then things got messy. You discovered the two men were also in a relationship with each other.” She drew another line and held up the paper. “Triangles have been used in construction for centuries because of their inherent strength and stability. But they are only as good as the lines that connect them.”
“So what you are saying is, if the individual relationships are strong, then the triangle can withstand anything.”
“Exactly. But those relationships require maintenance. The biggest mistake I see triads make is spending all of their time together. They don’t take time to focus on the inner relationships that connected them to begin with.”
“You mean I should still go on dates with them individually?”
“At least occasionally, and they should do the same with each other. But it's just as important for the members of a group to have time to themselves, otherwise they lose their identity.”
“That makes sense,” I agreed.
“Then I guess you need to ask yourself two questions. One, are you sure you love these men and that they love you and each other?”
“Positive,” I said, without needing to think about it.
“Then the only question which matters is, what’s holding you back from happiness?”
“I’m afraid of getting hurt, or ruining their relationship.”
“I can relate. When Jay and Trent asked me to be their partner, I had the same fears. In fact, I was scared shitless. But if I had let fear stand in my way,”—she paused for dramatic effect—then held up a sonogram print out, "this would never have happened.”
“Oh my god you're pregnant. I am so happy for you. You’re going to make a terrific mother.”
“And so will you someday,” she said. “Don't say anything to your mother about me being preggers. You’re the only one who knows besides Jay and Trent.”
“Do you know which one is the father?”
“No, and we don't intend to find out. I know both of them will love this baby as if it were their own.”
“I hope I can be as happy as you are someday.”
“It sounds to me like you already have a couple of amazing guys, if only you would let them into your life.”
“I’m trying Cyn, I really am.”
“Well, try harder.” She smiled and, before logging off, said, “I'll talk to you in a few days to see how you are making out.”
Cynthia was full of tips on how to have a successful poly relationship, which she happily shared in our subsequent conversations, but had no answers for overcoming my fears.
I wish I could tell you that two weeks of scientific research and introspection eventually helped me resolve all of my issues. But while there were plenty of studies on the connection between fear and love, the vast majority focused on cause and effect without providing solutions. I was so desperate I even picked up a couple pop-psychology books at Ziggy’s Twice Loved Books. They were beyond useless.
In the end, it was an elderly woman by the name of Bernice Thome who helped me overcome my fears. When I first met her, she was clutching the hand of her husband, who had arrived at the ER by ambulance. Bernice explained that Mr. Thome, who suffered from numerous health issues, had fallen and banged his chest against the arm of their sofa the previous day. According to his wife, he was a stubborn old man. Despite her protests, he had refused to go to the hospital and allow to be checked out.
But earlier that day, he began complaining of chest pains, which was when she called 911. A quick examination revealed low blood pressure and a muffled heartbeat, but it was the bulging veins in his neck which convinced me he was suffering from cardiac tamponade.
His impact with the couch has caused fluid to accumulate in the pericardial sac—a thin membrane that surrounds the heart. If I did not release the pressure, at the very least, his heart would be irreparably damaged. In the worst-case, he would suffer a fatal heart attack.
I explained this to Bernice and that while it was a simple procedure, she could not be in the room while I performed it. She held tight to her husband’s hand, a look of terror in her eyes. I hated to send her away, but was about to stick a huge ass needle in her husband's chest and needed to focus. If distracted, I could accidentally puncture his heart. “Kristy, will you escort Mrs. Thome to the waiting area, please?”
The procedure went smoothly, and his vitals quickly returned to normal. Once I was satisfied he was stable, I went to speak with his wife and let her know Mr. Thome was being transferred to a room on the third floor and she could see him soon. When Bernice saw me walk into the waiting area, her bottom lipped trembled.
“Your husband is going to be fine,” I said. “But given his advanced age and medical history, I am admitting him overnight just as a precaution. He can go home in the morning.”
She gave out a sob of relief and thanked me for saving her husband's life. I assured her I was just doing my job, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the seat next to her. “I know Sam is going to die one day and I’ve made my peace with that, but I am glad it won’t be today.”
She squeezed my hand and laughed. “It's funny, I almost didn't marry him. He was a handsome young man, and such a smooth talker. Could have charmed the Devil himself. The way he made me feel when we went out together, like I was the only woman in the world, you know what I mean?”
“When he proposed, I said no the first time. All I could think about was how my heart would break if something ever happened to him. But 60 years later, looking back at the life we built together and the happiness we shared, I feel foolish that I almost let fear stand in the way of all of it.”
Her words made me see how nearsighted I had been. I'd spent so much time focusing on all the terrible things that could happen, I’d never considered the lifetime of happiness love could bring.
I left work convinced of what I needed to do. Call Zack and Dante, ask them to meet me at Gabby's, and then beg them to forgive me for the horrible way I had treated them. But I had spent the last twelve hours treating the sick and injured. I needed to get out of my scrubs and shower first.
As I raced north to the motel, I noticed I had missed a call from my Realtor. I hit the play button on the steering wheel.
Hello Dr. Lewis, this is Phyllis at Suncoast Realty. When I showed you the house on Islamorada, you indicated the long commute was a concern. So, I called a couple of former clients with property on Turtle Key and found a gentleman who has a spare room he would consider renting to the right person. I know from past experience he is very particular about who he rents to, but I am sure he will have no problems when he finds out you are a successful doctor. I know you had your heart set on having your own house or at least an apartment, but rent would include full use of the kitchen and communal areas. Also, it is close to the water…
When I heard the address, I yanked the steering wheel to the left, made a U-turn, and headed south. Because when the universe sends you a message, it doesn't matter what you're wearing or that your hair is a mess.