Chapter 24 - Cat
Cat
My hand darts out to silence the phone the moment it starts buzzing.
Mary stirs beside me, her golden hair spilled over her shoulders, but doesn’t wake.
Everything in me screams to ignore the call and curl myself around her.
But I can’t. I have sworn an oath, and I can’t just abandon who I am because I am in love.
That’s not healthy. I slip out of bed, shiver as my feet hit the cold floor, and pad as quietly as I can into the living room.
“Durand.”
My voice is clipped, authoritative, and hushed.
If I’ve learned anything over the past few weeks of sharing a bed with her, it is that Mary sleeps extremely lightly.
The smallest thing can wake her up, and once she is awake, her brain is on immediately.
Unlike me, though, her body isn’t adapted to the shock that comes with an irregular schedule.
Even without watching the clock, she starts falling asleep around eleven and wakes around six.
Her natural rhythm is scarily accurate like that.
“Whitman here. We have a problem.”
“What is it?”
My tone softens slightly as the scrub nurse informs me that Honda had to leave due to a family emergency and that there is no attending present at the moment.
I know she wouldn’t call me if she hadn’t tried Jim or A?da first, and for the first time in my career, I silently curse myself for being the person who always picks up the phone.
“I’ll be there in 30.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
As soon as I hang up the phone, I hear a shuffle behind me. I spin around to see Mary standing in the doorway. She has thrown on one of my button-up shirts, which is now hanging loosely around her frame, and she is clutching the cuffs between her fingers.
“Baby?” she questions softly, her eyes still heavy from sleep.
“Mm, amor.”
I step toward her, pull her into my arms and tuck her under my chin. Her hands come around me instantly, and I feel her warm exhale caressing my skin. Mary’s breathing settles into a deep and soothing rhythm, and I feel myself calm down.
“You needago?”
Her words are tangled together in the most adorable way, and I can’t help but feel amused. I smile into her hair and press a warm kiss there.
“Sí.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt just a little, and she tenses for a beat. This is the part she hates most, the moment when I am being called away. I press another lingering kiss into her hair, and she hums softly. Satisfied with what she can get, even if it isn’t enough for either of us.
“I know,” I murmur before pressing my lips against her temple this time. “I hate it too.”
She lets out a soft sigh and nods, but she doesn’t complain. Instead, she lifts her head toward me with her eyes still closed, and finds my lips with her own.
Four months ago, I would have scoffed at the thought of ever being in a relationship, let alone one that could tempt me to stay home from work.
But Mary’s toothbrush has found a permanent spot in my bathroom, there is a small bottle of her perfume on the dresser, and she even has her own drawer filled with shirts and underwear.
She has me in a chokehold, and I love it.
I hum against her lips and let my fingers trace up her side, to the back of her neck, and into her hair. She nips at my bottom lip in an attempt to corrupt me. A low rumble escapes me, and she chuckles lightly, the sound reverberating through my chest.
“Did you know,” I murmur as my thumb caresses the back of her neck, “that sound has both physiological and psychological effects on the human body?”
“Oh?” she quips and leans back to look at me.
It is one of my favorite things about her. Whereas other people’s eyes glaze over when I explain something, Mary zeroes in and listens. She cares.
“Sí. Negative sounds can trigger stress responses. But positive sounds…” I pinch her side slightly, and she lets out a startled yelp, followed by a chuckle. I grin. “…can improve relaxation and cognitive processing.”
I lift her chin with my index finger and thumb, making her look at me.
“So, querida.” I smile and kiss her lips. “I argue that your little chuckle is vital to my day now.”
Her blue eyes grow just a little darker while the red crawls up her neck and onto her cheeks.
“Así es,” I murmur, satisfied, and then press my lips against hers once more. That’s it, indeed.
***
I’m seven hours into my now twenty-four-hour shift when there is a soft knock on the door. Just as I am about to say, ‘Enter,’ the door already swings open, and I don’t even have to look up to know who it is.
“Hermana.” I smile, keeping my focus on the charts in front of me.
“Kitty Cat,” she purrs as she slinks in and slides onto my desk. “I’ve missed you.”
“You have?” I raise an eyebrow, but my eyes are still glued to the screen.
“Claro que sí, Katherina. I haven’t seen you in months.”
Now I do look at her, ready to roll my eyes but something in her tone makes me hesitate. There is a slight crease between her brows, and her nostrils are flaring. Dios, she really is upset.
“Lo siento, Carmen. I have been really busy.”
“Yeah, no. I know. I mean, la rubia has you wrapped around her little finger, but—”
“Hey,” I warn her in a low tone, and her hands come up in a defensive gesture.
“But she does, Cat. I get it, young love and all… but…”
Her voice trails off, and something in me softens. Carmen’s eyes flicker back and forth between mine as she fidgets with her fingers. I place my hand over hers to still the movement and nod understandingly.
“I’m still here, hermana.”
“I just feel left out,” she says with a little shrug.
The words slice through me as I feel their weight in my chest. My oldest friend, my sister, feels abandoned.
By me. And I didn’t even see it. I’m on my feet and pulling her against my chest before she can even register that I’m moving.
Her body stiffens before she lets out a heartbreaking sob and clings to me for dear life.
How the hell did you let it come to this?
I rub soft circles over her shoulders, fighting the sting of tears in my eyes. We’ve been through so much together. We’ve been through life. How could I have been this selfish?
I pull Carmen closer against me, knowing that I have to make it up to her even if she doesn’t blame me. She’s too good a person to ever do that.
“Lo siento, Carmen. I didn’t… I didn’t realize,” I whisper in a hoarse voice.
“It’s okay. I understand,” she manages between sobs. “You were… occupied.”
She leans back to look at me with a watery grin on her lips, looking far too smug for somebody who is crying at the same time.
But that’s her. Carmen never lingers on the negative.
Not because she doesn’t acknowledge its existence, she’s prone to it just as much as any other person, but because she actively chooses not to dwell.
It is a skill that I admire and wish I had more of myself.
“Nothing has changed between us.”
The words feel like a lie in my mouth. Everything has changed. Carmen isn’t wrong. I’ve spent every free moment of the past few months with Mary in our own bubble. And I don’t want to change that. So, if I’m not willing to give that up, I must pull Carmen into our space.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner Friday?”
“Really?” Carmen asks hopefully before she freezes. “Wait. With la rubia?”
I keep my face neutral but feel my heart plummet. Is she jealous? I can’t have my best friend disliking my partner.
“Would you want that?”
“Yes. Dios, yes!”
Her eyes grow large, and she tightens her hold on me. The sobs give way to something much softer and happier now. I smile at her and pull her against me again.
“Then dinner it is,” I hum.
Carmen is practically bouncing in my arms now, and I let out a soft chuckle. The tight ball in my chest loosens, and I feel like I just won the most important battle of my life.
And maybe I did.
***
Mary is pacing back and forth, going on about how the vendor gave her the wrong bell peppers and how he must have seen the spots on them.
Even though I can’t stop my lip from curling up, I don’t want her to spiral.
After three full minutes, I firmly step into her space, grab her wrist, and pull her against me.
My free hand finds the small of her back, and I run small circles with my thumb.
“You’re burning a hole in the carpet, carino,” I murmur in her ear before nipping at it. “Relax, baby. Everything is perfect.”
“Except the bell peppers,” she huffs, and I let out a laugh.
“Trust me, even the bell peppers are perfect.”
I place a soft kiss on her lips, and I feel a bit of the fight drain out of her. Good.
“I know what this is about.” She blinks up at me when I utter the words. “You are nervous.”
Her jaw ticks, and she shakes her head, but the faint rosy color on her cheeks betrays her.
“Querida, you already met Carmen. You had coffee with her before I even had the chance to introduce you to her.” I raise my eyebrow in mock offense. “My coffee.”
“I know, but…”
Her voice is high and a little more breathy than usual, and her shoulders fall forward. She tries to tuck herself away, to make herself small, but I don’t want her to hide. Not with me.
“Look at me, carino,” I say softly, and her gaze hesitantly trails up to meet mine. “Tell me what is going on in that pretty head of yours.”
I already know. It only makes sense. She is worried that Carmen won’t like her, and since Carmen means so much to me, she is afraid it will change my view of her. But no matter what I tell her, it won’t land. Not before she acknowledges it first.
“I just want tonight to be perfect.”
“It already is.”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” she sighs. “You two have history.”
“Sí,” I admit.
“Like… long history.”
“Sí.”
“She knows you way better than I do.”
“For now.”
She blinks, and I see her brain stutter for a moment. I smile at her and run my thumb over her jawline.
“So what?” I ask her.
“So what if she thinks I’m not right for you?”
There it is. I pull her even closer, letting my hand run through her hair now.
Her eyes flick rapidly between mine, and her heart beats so hard that I can feel her pulse against my chest. She tucks her lip between her teeth, chewing on it as worry eats her from the inside.
I lower my hand and softly brush my thumb over it.
“Don’t nibble on that,” I hum softly and let my gaze drop to it before meeting hers again. “That’s my job.”
Her gasp is small, barely even audible, but it is the only thing in this room that matters to me. I smile again, a little smug this time, and press a soft kiss against it. When I lean back again, the edge has disappeared from her eyes. She is ready to listen.
“If Carmen were to say that, which, for the record, she won’t, then she wouldn’t know me as well as I thought.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that she’d be dead wrong, Maria.”
Her whole face relaxes, and I feel her inhale the fresh air around us. I nod. Just like that.
“But Carmen already—”
The bell rings before I can finish the sentence, and Mary practically jumps in my arms. I let out a small laugh, just as startled, before I make my way to the door.
I glance over my shoulder once, only to see Mary take a big gulp of wine, and I smirk.
Carmen already loves you, you silly little thing.
And I’m in trouble because I don’t stand a chance against either of them. Especially together.