Chapter 34 - Mary
Mary
My legs are pulled up under me while I stare angrily at the blinking cursor on the screen.
My mind keeps drifting back to Cat. To how she has been coming home from work the past few days with a tight jaw, dark circles under her eyes, shoulders a little higher than they normally sit.
To how she keeps telling me that she is okay.
I know she is not. How can she be? Half of the staff has decided to deem her professionally unfit, especially after the lobby kiss.
“Doctor Salim questioned her call during a trauma handoff, Mary. The patient was stable but in pain, and instead of moving, they had to pull in a second attending to confirm what Cat already knew. A?da made that man suffer just to make her point.”
My blood ran cold when Carmen told me what had happened, but when I asked Cat, she just shrugged and said doctors call second opinions all the time. And who am I to argue with that? What do I even know? Nothing. Even though I know that’s not how it works. Not for her. Not really.
I blink again when my screen turns black.
There is just no way I can focus on my writing today.
Not even in this beautiful office that Cat has set up for me in her spare bedroom since she ‘doesn’t use it, anyway.
’ I’m spending more and more time here, so it only made sense to her to give me my own space.
My lips curl up at the thought, my chest warming as I remember her fingers pressed against my sternum.
This is the same thoughtful woman who now chooses to suffer for me. Why?
My body jolts when the bell rings, and for a moment, I am frozen in my seat. Carmen has visited a few times when I was here alone, but I know she is at work. I have no idea who’s on the other side of the door, and if I… just open up. Cat doesn’t hide you, remember?
I swallow hard and press my nails into the palms of my hands as I make my way to the entrance.
There is another soft but persistent round of knocking.
One, two, three. Not intrusive, but with an edge of authority to it.
My hand shakes when I reach for the handle, and I push it down, realizing too late that I should have used the peephole first.
There is an older man in front of me. He has a sharp jaw, thick gray hair combed back, and dark umber-colored eyes. I suck in a gulp of air and feel another jolt of surprise course through my body when I realize who he is.
“Doctor Durand?” I ask softly, and he lifts his chin.
He gazes down at me for the longest moment. A muscle in his jaw twitching as he does, and he blows out a gust of air through his nose.
“And you must be Mary. Eduardo,” he offers, pointing at his chest. “I would say it is a pleasure to finally meet you, but I fear that would be a lie.”
His cold eyes hold my gaze. He pins me in place with his stare alone, and I have to fight the urge to squirm.
I really want to slam the door in his face, turn around, and crawl back into the safety of the bed, but I can’t move.
I can’t speak. All I can do is look at him and feel the ice-cold fingers of dread grasping at my insides. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
“I would like to have a word with you, Mary. Can I come in?”
I don’t know why, but my body moves aside of its own accord. Katherina’s father walks in as if he owns the place. He has that same self-assured stride as his daughter, and I can clearly see where she got her pride from.
“Sit, please.”
It isn’t a suggestion, but I don’t argue. I sink down into the chair across from him and position myself on the edge. My fingers grasp at the seat, and the touch seems to ground me a little. Enough for me to finally open my mouth.
“What did you want to speak to me about, Doctor Durand?”
It is weird how the words that normally feel so good in my mouth now have the total opposite effect. They don’t even feel familiar, not with him.
He doesn’t speak but instead lifts an eyebrow in that sarcastic, questioning look that Cat gives me all the time. The resemblance is uncanny, but with Eduardo… this time, I do shiver, and he frowns slightly. That same muscle in his jaw moves again as he drops his gaze over me once, assessing.
“Catherine didn’t have an easy life as a kid.
Cuba is a poor country. And while I was building my reputation as a neurosurgeon, she had to live with her abuela and mother.
With all the bills from med school, my paycheck was thin, so they had to survive just like any other Cuban family out there,” he starts.
There is no emotion in his tone, nothing that gives away that he is talking about his family. It sounds more like he is giving me a list of symptoms than the background on his daughter. I nod anyway. I don’t know why.
“She was twelve when I brought them to the States. My mother, my wife, my daughter, and her best friend, who, at that point, was basically living with them.”
He sits back and curls his hands around the armrests while looking down at me. His posture reminds me of the Lincoln statue. I never liked it because it feels so condescending. But Eduardo Durand’s presence presses down on me ten times worse.
“They had a rough time adjusting here. Katherina acted out just as any young teenager in her position would, but she soon found out that drive and motivation are actually rewarded in this country. That’s the moment she changed and became highly motivated to make a difference.
She started to dream of a career as a trauma surgeon to help those in need. ”
He lifts his fingers in air quotes, and I can almost see a younger Cat with that determined frown speaking to her father about this.
“She wanted to make a difference, and she has in more ways than one. Do you know she has dreams of setting up a clinic for the less fortunate someday?”
I shake my head. She hasn’t spoken to me about that. We haven’t spoken much about her work to begin with. I think she avoided the topic with me because there has always been that awareness. That lingering thought that she shouldn’t be doing this with me, even if she never said it out loud.
I’ve seen it in her eyes time and again. That question of whether she wields some sort of power over me. It’s almost always followed by the question if I am only into her because she is a doctor, as if it is some sort of kink. So I never asked.
This time, it is my jaw that ticks, and Eduardo’s eyes narrow a little at the sight.
“Of course she didn’t,” he states simply. “What are your intentions with my daughter, Miss Van Achthoven?”
The way my surname rolls from his tongue makes me shudder. He pronounces it perfectly, with almost no accent, but there is an icy bite to it.
I press my molars against each other and frown.
“I love her, if that is what you are asking,” I offer, unsure of what he wants to hear.
He scoffs and shakes his head.
“Love? You call this love?” He gestures wildly with his hands as his voice gains a little volume.
Eduardo opens his mouth, but instantly snaps it shut again as if he is stopping himself from saying something unwanted. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and again, something so familiar to me suddenly feels foreign.
“This isn’t love. This is lust at best.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he raises his hand.
“If this were love, hija,” he says, his voice softer now, “you would have stepped away instead of letting her destroy her career. You would have sacrificed what you wanted for what she needs. Do you understand what I am saying?”
He looks at me, his eyes tracking every single one of my movements as his words slowly start to sink in. The poison starts to spread through my mind, and suddenly, I have to fight to keep tears from falling.
“I do love her,” I whisper, and he nods once, as if he understands.
“I believe you think you do,” he says, sliding forward and tapping the palm of his hand against my knee once. “And if that is true, you now know what to do. It isn’t too late.”
With that, he rises from his seat. I am rendered speechless and can’t seem to move a single muscle as he sees himself out without another glance. The tears never fall, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt a pain this sharp before. What if he is right?
***
04:31 p.m. – Katherina
Amor, my mother has summoned us to dinner. Can you be ready at six?
I stare at the message and feel my heart racing. Why would she invite me now? Hasn’t her husband already done enough? Is this their way of making sure I leave their daughter so she can build her career?
They aren’t wrong. Cat has sacrificed everything to get where she is. That much I do know. And I know how important her reputation is to her, or was, I guess? Still, Cat doesn’t even seem to pause at the fact that she is going to bring me home to her parents.
04:32 p.m. – Mary Mary
Of course. Anything you need me to bring?
04:33 p.m. – Katherina
Just yourself, amor. That is more than enough.
I want to roll my eyes, but my lips tick up regardless.
I allow myself to enjoy this moment, before the inevitable happens.
She doesn’t know it yet, and my body seems to choke at the mere thought, but tonight, her parents will try to talk her out of this relationship.
And I already know I can’t compete with them.
I’m just putting in my earrings when Cat enters the apartment.
She already looks immaculate in tight black slacks, a light blue silk top, and matching heels.
My breath stops somewhere down my throat, and I can’t seem to peel my eyes off of her.
A soft shade of pink colors her cheeks, and she shrugs.
“You look beautiful,” I stammer, the compliment sounding more like a question.
“I always have a spare set of clothes in my locker,” she mumbles as she places her keys on the cabinet.
She comes up behind me, pressing her front against my back and wrapping her arms around my waist. Her lips find the curve of my neck, and my eyes instinctively flutter closed as she presses them warmly against my skin. My stomach dips pleasantly, and my soul hums in answer to hers. Home.
“And you, mi amor, look positively edible.”
She purrs the words close to my ear, and I feel the heat rush to my core. Now it’s my cheeks that are flushing, and I catch her grin in the mirror.
“Katherina,” I warn, but she only grins wider.
“I know, I know… you are dessert.”
I chuckle and turn into her arms, pressing my lips against hers. I should really tell her about what happened, about what we are about to walk into. But she seems so happy that when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
It takes a little over twenty minutes to get from Cat’s home to the suburbs where her parents live.
She pulls up in front of a little brick-and-stone bungalow with a baby-blue door, and a white porch with two wooden chairs overlooking the huge lawn.
There is a little cobblestone path from the sidewalk to the door, and a large bush with small white flowers off to the side. It is gorgeous.
“Are you ready, baby?”
Her voice is warm and gentle, and her hand slides over mine in an effort to calm my thudding heart. I’m not ready. I am anything but ready, but I nod regardless. She is out of the car in a blink and pulls my door open so fast I almost think she slid across the hood.
Our fingers intertwine as we walk up to the house, and for a moment I manage to push away the memory of this morning. The door swings open, and a gorgeous, voluptuous woman storms out.
“?Mi hija está aquí!”
“Mamá.” Cat smiles and wraps her arms around her mother as I stand awkwardly to the side.
“Y tú eres Maria, ?verdad? You are even more beautiful than my daughter said you were,” she beams as she looks me over.
She pulls me into a hug before I can even respond, and wraps her strong arms tightly around my trembling body. There is something familiar and safe in the way she holds me, and even though I am utterly confused, I melt into her.
“A bit skinny, though,” she hums, “but we can fix that.”
“Mom!” Cat cries out, and with that, her mother breaks away from me with a chuckle.
Her eyes are as warm as Cat’s as she takes me in again, no trace of anger or hate in them. Just… endearment? Neither of them knows. And they aren’t going to.
“Thank you for inviting me, Miss Durand,” I manage, my voice warm.
Her eyebrows lift regardless, and she genuinely looks hurt for a moment.
“Miss Durand is my mother-in-law. You’d better call me Rosa.”
With that, she ushers Cat and me inside the door and into the lion’s den.