Chapter 18 Fault Line
Fault Line
Aaron
Two weeks had passed since I confessed my failing to Nadine. Simply bringing it out into the open, sharing my fear with the one who knew and loved me best, lifted much of the guilt from my shoulders.
Since then, finally ready to work through what happened and move forward, I’d met with Max several times.
I showed him the emails I received from Ryan’s mother, and confessed my relief that they had ceased along with my guilt over the situation and my growing anxiety over what Ryan’s current state might be.
I could now think about the situation without falling into a spiral of self-doubt and recrimination. Max and I went through Ryan’s file together, examining both my notes as well as his, and found no discrepancy.
Without being able to follow up with Ryan, I had to provide my own closure, accept Max’s explanation for what he believed happened. And hope Ryan found the help he needed through the hospital after his failed attempt.
I could breathe.
Even better, I’d regained some of the confidence I’d lost in treating my patients.
The hopes I had for Nadine’s and my future were beginning to take root. Every day, in some form or another, Nadine brought it up. Her newfound excitement thrilled me. Her eyes were alive and her smile bright.
I wasn’t out of the woods yet, but I could see the sunlight through the trees. And tonight, I was taking my wife on a date in town.
No more hiding at home with the curtains drawn tight.
I’d barely walked into the house when she came skipping down the stairs in black jeans, ankle boots, and a soft, off-the-shoulder sweater.
“Dini,” I gulped. “You look ravishing.”
“Well,” she blinked, freezing momentarily before barking out a surprised laugh, “I’ll look forward to being ravished then!”
“Deal!” I grinned.
Though Sage Ridge had grown some since we were kids, there still weren’t a ton of restaurants. However, you couldn’t make a bad choice. We chose a tiny Mediterranean place, not much more than a hole in the wall popular with locals that the tourists rarely stumbled across.
With room for only half a dozen tables, half of which were empty this early on a Thursday night, we had a cozy corner to ourselves.
I plied my sweet wife with wine, watching as she visually unwound.
The smile never left my face as I watched her talk about Carlos and his antics, her face and hands growing ever more animated with each glass.
Fair face flushed, pretty mouth laughing, she looked like the girl I first fell in love with.
I paid the bill and shook my head. How did I get so lucky?
Standing, I held her coat open and slipped it over her shoulders before winding her scarf around her neck.
Caressing her cheek with the soft fabric, I asked, “I did good with this one?”
Her eyes softened as she gazed up at me. “I love it. I love everything you give me.”
With my hand at the small of her back, I led her outside. The downtown was mostly empty though the weather was comparatively mild. Sage Ridge rolled up the sidewalks early, especially in the winter. The only people out were those in search of food, or those returning home from a late night at work.
“You want to walk some of this off?”
She mock gasped. “Are you saying I need to walk it off?”
I shook my head and discretely grabbed a handful of her ass. “Never. This is a prime cut.”
“Oh my gosh, Aaron,” she snorted, her face open, eyes lit with humor. The past year had been rough, no doubt, but we were finally coming out the other side.
I was coming out the other side.
Dipping my knees, I pressed my forehead to her temple and spelled out all I had in store for her when we got home.
She blushed, cast her eyes down and away from me like she had when we were young.
I grinned down at her and pulled her close, laughing out loud, overflowing with joy in her. In us. In everything we had built, everything we had still to do and plan and be.
I felt her before I saw her, a cold chill zipping through my veins.
Rhonda Deevers. Ryan’s mother.
Slowly, I swiveled my neck and met her furious gaze.
“You disgust me,” she hissed.
Her angry words lodged in my chest like arrows laced with shame.
“Mrs. Deevers,” I replied with a polite nod, my cheeks burning.
I moved Nadine to my back and began to pass Ryan’s mother, keeping my body between them.
“So nice for you that you get to carry on with your life, leaving me to clean up your mess!”
I took another step, Nadine’s gasp of shock sending the arrows deeper.
As we passed her, she leaned forward and hissed, “Ask me. Ask me how Ryan is.”
Her demand cut through me like a knife, finding the fault line between before and after, the failure that threatened to split me in two.
I could smell the alcohol on her breath. Sagging with sudden fatigue, I breathed out slowly and met her furious gaze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”
I moved Nadine in front of me, my hand at her back. We made it two steps away from her. Two steps closer to home, and the closed blinds, and Nadine’s sweet scent wrapped up in our sheets.
She laughed harshly. “Help him? No. You made him worse!”
Her accusation froze my blood in my veins even as my face heated to a near combustible level. Turning around slowly, the world lagging behind, I faced the owner of that voice, Nadine’s startled exclamation ringing in my ears.
Schooling my features as best I could, I faced her. “I’m sorry he’s still struggling. Were you able to get him in to see any of the other therapists I recommended?”
She scoffed. “As if I’d take advice from you,” she hissed, stepping forward.
My arm flew back, tucking Nadine neatly behind me.
Rhonda snarled, “At least you’re protective of your own even if your patients mean nothing more to you than a paycheck.”
Nadine’s hand hit my back as she pressed against me.
Holding her behind me, I prayed she’d stay there. Knowing she was witnessing this scene made me cringe. Watching her face as she took it in was more than I could take.
“That’s enough,” she snapped from behind me. “You’re obviously hurting but that doesn’t give you the right to spill your vitriol all over my husband.”
“Nadine, please…” I began, feeling her entire body vibrating against my back.
Rhonda’s eyes bugged out as her face suffused with red. “I nearly lost my boy!”
“Then you best look toward your own self before you start casting blame everywhere else.”
“So sorry!” She screamed. “You just go on enjoying yourself like you don’t owe anybody anything!”
“Enough,” I barked, finding my voice and facing Rhonda dead on. “I wish I could have helped your child, I do. But you still can. Find someone else and get him the help he needs.”
Spinning around, turning Nadine with me, I marched her down the street toward home, Rhonda Deevers’ words trailing us as we left.
Nadine’s breath came in rough pants, furiously shuddering in and out, and her hand shook in mine.
“It’s okay, Dini.”
“It’s not,” she snapped.
“She’s in pain,” I explained, my brain and mouth running on autopilot as all I could hear were the same, tired, questions I’d been spinning for months.
Where did I go wrong?
What more could I have done?
What did I miss? What did I miss? What did I miss?
“Fuck you, Aaron! Fuck. You!”
I cringed, the sound of my name echoing through the cold. Increasing my pace, I pushed my livid wife ahead of me.
“I could kill her,” she fumed. “I could literally kill her.”
“It’s okay,” I intoned bleakly.
I failed them.
And she had a right to be angry.
The truth was, I had been distracted when I’d been treating them.
Nadine’s father had just passed. We were stretched thin with her mom’s burgeoning illness.
Nadine spent more time running back and forth between her parents’ home and the hospital than she did at our house, and I worried about her constantly.
Did I take my eye off the ball?
I closed my eyes for a second as I ushered her into the car.
No.
I gently closed her door and rounded the front of my truck.
Max and I went over his file.
Swinging into my seat, I put my key in the ignition and pointed us home.
I’d committed my entire life to helping people.
My failure rose up to choke me.
I couldn’t go out like this.