Chapter Thirty Eight
Ophelia’s second lesson with Etienne started with a run.
He arrived at her house in gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
Ophelia was annoyed by his looks again. It was part of the reason she cried herself to sleep last Wednesday night.
She didn’t trust herself. Her basic instincts of attraction felt all wrong.
She knew she had previously been attracted to Etienne, but here they were spending actual time together, actually getting to know each other.
And there was that moment in the kitchen when he was situated between her legs, and it had been intimate and terrifying.
She didn’t want to go there again, not so soon.
Even feeling horny felt dirty, and she despised that Mateo had done that to her.
She had already done so much work to unravel the Catholic Church’s teachings on sex, and now she was back to square one, fearful of her own body’s response to an attractive man.
She needed time, and she needed to contact that therapist.
After their run, he had her repeatedly practice centering herself and pulling on her magic, which she was able to do about fifty percent of the time.
It got progressively more difficult as the high from her run waned, but Etienne didn’t let her get away with tapping out.
By ten o’clock, she was so exhausted that she thought of kicking Etienne out herself.
He took the hint when her eyes involuntarily closed as he was explaining the nuances of sensing a sinus headache versus a migraine.
Their third session started with a run again. It was now their thing. She was even starting to look forward to it. When they reached the top of the levee, Etienne threw himself on the grass and stared up at the night sky.
“God, that levee just kicked my ass. I’m getting old,” said Etienne through gasps of breath. Ophelia sat next to him.
“You are definitely getting old, but your tired ass probably has more to do with how much you work.”
“Yeah, at the clinic I work regular hours, but it’s the ER shifts that add up.
I regularly pull twelve-hour-plus shifts there, but it doesn’t feel like a lot.
Probably ’cause everyone’s doing it. It’s the culture.
Plus, I’m the youngest doctor on the ER schedule, so I have to put in my hours, as they say. ”
Ophelia hummed. “I never understood that. Why is there a culture of pushing healthcare workers to overwork? It makes no sense. I don’t want an exhausted doctor caring for me.”
“I mean, you’re absolutely right. I heard from more senior doctors that the hours used to be even worse. I can’t imagine how, though.” Etienne seemed to have caught his breath as it evened out into its normal rhythm.
“So are you finally going to tell me how you do it all? How does being a family doctor and Traiteur work?” Ophelia had asked this question before, and he had dodged it by bringing up her future practice at Prytania Botanica.
Ophelia could tell he wasn’t ready to divulge too much yet, but now he seemed to be more open with her.
Etienne sat up and looked at Ophelia as if he was scared to speak.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“O, can I trust you?”
Normally, Ophelia would immediately respond with a resounding yes, but she was afraid of what he was about to reveal.
She couldn’t handle another devastation.
Ophelia examined his face as he patiently waited for her response.
It was one of the things she enjoyed about his company.
He always let her think, gave her the space to mull over her thoughts.
She was always so quick-witted and fast-moving, and he helped slow her down.
“While it may not have been intentional, I think I started trusting you a while ago. You’ve seen me in some vulnerable moments, and you kept them to yourself and respected my privacy.
So yeah, you have my trust, E. I hope I’ve earned yours.
” Ophelia found herself reaching over to squeeze his hand.
She pulled back immediately once she realized what she had done.
“Okay,” he said and braced himself. “I treat patients at my office.” Etienne looked to Ophelia to gauge her reaction.
She was unsurprised; she had assumed that’s exactly what he did.
“While that may not seem like a big deal to us because you and I grew up with Traiteurs, it is a big deal. I could lose my medical license for doing it. When I treat, I’m technically not using proper medical techniques; I’m using my magic. ”
“Do your patients know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah, of course. I always get consent from my patients. Most visit me because they knew my dad before he passed, or are sent to me from my grandfather. It’s been a slow build, but I have a good patient base for treating.”
Ophelia smiled as it dawned on her that she, Ophelia Oubre, had gotten Etienne to open up to her. Miracles do happen. “Well, I think it’s amazing, and your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks.”
“Do you ever worry a patient will rat you out?”
“Every damn day. Every single day, there’s someone who comes into the office that I don’t know begging me to treat their rash or arthritis, and I have to go on my gut.
Etienne sighed. “It’s crazy. I have zero protection, but I do it anyway.
I’d rather treat someone’s arthritis or migraine than give them pain pills. ”
“I’m sure your patients appreciate you.”
“Let’s hope so.” Etienne stood up and brushed the grass off his sweatpants. “Come on, O. It’s running time.” Etienne reached out his hand and pulled Ophelia to her feet. She didn’t have an internal meltdown at his physical touch. Progress.
When they returned from their run, Etienne had Ophelia center herself and pull at her magic again and again.
This time, it was much easier and much less exhausting since she had been practicing on her own.
She was amazed by her magic as she treated a scrape on Etienne’s leg.
It slowly healed over as the red scab turned to new skin, then untouched flesh in the span of two seconds.
After, he started to pack up his things to leave.
“Before you go, I was wondering if you’d meet me at Prytania Botanica sometime to check out the treating room I’m going to share with Avery. I want to get your advice on how to set things up and pick your brain on the types of supplies I’ll need.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he said as he swung his gym bag over his shoulder. Ophelia noted his right dimple emerging as his smile slightly lifted. “I’m off during the day next Tuesday. I could meet you then.”
They agreed upon a time, and instead of leaving with their usual wave, they both leaned in for a hug.
It was awkward at first. Being this close made her long to press her body up against his, and she had to remind herself that they were just friends.
But he smelled so good, like sweat and trees and fresh air, and his muscular arms around her were strong and heavy.
She bet he was great at cuddling…and other things.
Stop, Ophelia. Too much. She broke away from his embrace and reluctantly said goodbye.