Beneath It All (Beneath #1) (3 page)

His punishing pace escalated. “So good. So fucking good.” He cursed as he thrust hard into me a few more times before finally shouting his release.

We were both out of breath as he shifted off of me and rolled onto his side. He looked even more delicious with the “well-fucked” look I had just given him. His hand glided up my body, and he started to gently knead my breast. “Your body is perfection,” he said as I winced. He had made connection with the tender spot I had found earlier but forgotten to mention.

“What the hell was that?” Noah asked with a concerned look on his face. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” I responded casually. “When I bumped your arm getting out of the car, I felt a zing of discomfort in my breast. I checked it when I showered and found a little tender spot. I’ve already spoken with Jen, and she’s calling to get me an appointment after we’re home. It’s most likely another fibroid anyway.”

“Victoria.” He sounded worried. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

I sighed. “Because I knew you were busy with your meetings, and I didn’t want you to worry, like you are now. It’s most likely another fibroid, and I’m fine. Really, I’m okay.”

Noah took my face in his hands, and when I looked at him, all I saw was compassion, concern, and love. “Sweetheart, please don’t ever feel like you can’t talk to me. I’m always here for you.” I didn’t know what to say at that moment, so I leaned up to kiss him, knowing that he meant every word he said.

“Let’s get off this cold, hard floor and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day for me, and I know you’ll be busy taking in the sights with Shannon.” Noah helped me up and into bed, snuggling in behind me. The heat of his body soothed and relaxed me into a deep sleep.

I AM WONDERFUL

Five days later . . .

I
woke up to my phone ringing on the bedside table. It was Jen’s “friendly reminder” of my doctor appointment for three o’clock that afternoon.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” she pressured.

“Yes, I’ll be fine on my own.” I heard a huff of frustration with my answer, but honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. I didn’t need her there holding my hand as a doctor felt me up. I was a grown woman. I let out a heavy breath after hanging up and laid back in the comfort of my warm bed.

Noah made sure to keep me busy while we were in New York. He had encouraged me to go shopping with a few of the other women one day and surprised me with a date to the theater followed by a late dinner near Rockefeller Center. The distractions were perfect, and I was grateful to my husband for planning them.

I spent the morning catching up on messages and laundry from our trip. After a quick shower, I piled my hair on top of my head in a messy bun and applied my usual light makeup. Wanting to feel happy, I threw on my favorite chevron-patterned skirt with a lightweight pink sweater set. I swiped a coat of pink gloss on my lips, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door.

Arriving early to the Medical Professionals Building, I completed my paperwork faster than expected and was able to pull out a book. I never knew if the doctor would be on time and learned to use that to my benefit to catch up on my reading. A blush had taken up residence on my cheeks during a sexy part when my name was called.

“Victoria Madison?”

Dammit.
The fictional man in my life would have to wait. I stood and followed the nurse. After completing the customary pee in a cup routine, they drew blood and I was provided a lovely pink paper gown to wear, making sure the opening was in the front. I climbed up on the exam table and felt the butterflies starting to build in my stomach.
Should I be concerned? What if it really is something?

A light tap on the door broke my train of thought, and Dr. Beth Freeman entered the room. She was a petite and attractive woman, not much older than me, with shoulder-length dark blonde hair and kind eyes. She wore a tailored camel-colored suit and a killer pair of red heels.

“Good afternoon, Victoria. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She greeted me with a smile and firm handshake before taking a seat at the small desk in the corner of the room. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

I proceeded to tell Dr. Freeman how I discovered the tenderness in my breast and how it grabbed my attention. I also explained that I had a history of fibroids, but that my best friend and husband had encouraged me to get this one checked out since its discovery was so sudden.

“Let’s take a look.” She stood to wash her hands and pulled on medical gloves.

Pulling out the end of the table to support my legs, she helped me lie back. She apologized in advance that her hands were cold. Yikes, she was right—they were freezing, and my nipples immediately stiffened, which made me uncomfortable. It must have been a normal response, as it didn’t seem to faze her.

She started on my right breast by walking her fingers in a circular direction around my breast until she got to the center. Then she gently pressed both of her hands together around it like she was feeling a melon for ripeness.

Satisfied with my right breast, she moved over to my left side. She began the same procedure, but slowed down as she hit the inside of my left breast. She continued her way around to the center like on my right side. When it was time for her to press her palms around it, she zeroed in on the area in question, and I noticed her eyebrow perk up and a look of discovery quickly passed over her face.

“Okay. Let me help you sit up,” she stated and then walked over to her desk to write something in my chart.

“Victoria, there is definitely something abnormal in your left breast. Due to the fact that you are adopted and don’t have a family medical history, I would like you to have a baseline mammogram and ultrasound done immediately.”

Okay. Things were getting real. “Immediately? As in right now?” I questioned.

“I don’t mean to frighten you, but yes, the sooner, the better. Do you have anything on your schedule this afternoon?”

“No,” I said quietly as I felt my heart rate intensify. “I’m free for the rest of the day.”

“Great, let me make a quick call and see if they can squeeze you in.” With my heart pounding, I watched as she picked up her phone and made a call. Not hearing any of the words coming out of her mouth, I sat in disbelief and tried to process what was happening.
She actually found something that concerned her.

“Victoria?” I thought I heard someone say my name, but it didn’t register.

“Victoria?” I heard it again, but this time I looked up and locked eyes with Dr. Freeman. “The breast center had a cancellation and can get you in for a mammogram and ultrasound in twenty minutes. Will that work for you?”

I cleared my throat as I tried to find my voice. “Of course.” She nodded and continued her conversation to set the appointment.

“Victoria, I know this is a lot to process in a matter of minutes, but I want to be proactive and rule out anything serious at this time. The faster we can do this, the easier you will sleep at night. You’re young and the fact that you’re doing self-exams at all is very encouraging. Many women don’t understand the importance they serve and don’t realize they should do them until it’s too late.”

She stood and walked over to me, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’ll be happy to walk you over to the clinic.” I smiled as I realized that even though she was a physician, she was, in fact, also a woman like me, and her compassion was evident. It warmed my heart to know that the words she had just spoken were said with meaning and were not just an empty offer.

“Thank you for the offer, Dr. Freeman; I truly appreciate your concern. But I know you’re busy, and I don’t want to leave your other patients waiting longer than they need to. I’ll just go grab a cup of tea and enjoy a walk outside.”

She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before explaining that I was her last appointment of the day and she was heading that direction anyway. Thanking her again for her concern, I reiterated that I would be fine going on my own. She nodded her acceptance of my decision, handed me the orders for the clinic, and wished me luck before exiting the room.

I quickly ripped off the gown like it was on fire and examined myself in the mirror.
How did my day turn to this?
I grabbed my bra and sweater set and put them on, bumping my breast in my hasty actions. Tears began to well in my eyes. I would not break down. I was being foolish by letting it get to my head. I straightened my sweater, grabbed a tissue to wipe away my tears, and took one last look in the mirror.

“It’s nothing,” I said to my reflection. “She’s just being cautious. That’s what doctors do—they cover their asses.”

*

After a quick stop at Caribou Coffee for a hot mango tea, I started on my way to the next appointment when I remembered to call Noah. I had promised him I would call when I was done at the doctor’s appointment. I noticed a small garden area outside of the medical building and settled onto a bench and made the call, but it went right to voice mail.

“You have reached Noah Madison. I’m unable to take your call at this time. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I’ll return your call as soon as I can.”
Beeeeep.

Using the most cheerful voice I could muster, I left him a message: “Hi, it’s just me. My appointment went well, and Dr. Freeman ordered me to have a baseline mammogram and ultrasound to be on the safe side. There was an opening this afternoon, so I’m heading over there now. I’ll see you when you get home. I love you. Bye.” I ended the call and an uneasy feeling hit me again.

The butterflies were back in full force as I stepped into the breast center clinic. The lobby was warm and comforting and didn’t feel medical, which I was thankful for. I was greeted by the friendly front desk staff and offered a beverage while I waited but declined as I had already had to find the ladies’ room after guzzling my tea.

Once I returned from the ladies’ room, I spotted a comfy chair by the window and settled in with my book. Reading had always been my escape, and I needed it more than anything at that time. The fifteen-minute wait breezed by, as I was once again engrossed in the story.

“Victoria Madison?”

Once again, I was beckoned by a stranger with a smile. Standing, I made my way toward the woman who was waiting; her name tag said Ginny. She seemed nice; she made small talk while we walked back to a changing-room area. I was assigned a locker, and she explained that I needed to strip from the waist up and remove all jewelry. She handed me another pink robe—luckily, it was cloth this time—and instructed me to keep the opening in the front.

Ginny was waiting for me when I exited the changing area and escorted me into the mammography room. I found myself face to face with a large machine with an area that looked like a giant panini maker. She removed what looked like heating pads that were covering the plates.

“We put heating pads on them so they aren’t so cold; it helps since we have to keep the room temperature cool to prevent the machine from overheating.”

I got a better look as I stepped closer.
Thank God!
The surface was smooth and not ridged like a panini maker, but it was intimidating nonetheless since its job was to smoosh my boob into a pancake. “Don’t worry; it isn’t as bad as it looks.”

Another woman, who I assumed was the mammographer, entered the room. She looked me over and gave me an odd look. “Wow, you’re awfully young to be here. So many doctors send young women for mammograms when they aren’t necessary.”

I’m not sure if she was trying to make me feel better, but she wasn’t very successful. If anything, she made me feel like I was wasting her time, which in turn had me thinking maybe this was wasting mine too. I was not looking forward to letting this disgruntled woman manhandle me.

Ginny gave me an “I’m sorry about that” look before she stepped out of the room. After explaining the procedure to me, the technician asked me to open my gown and to place my right breast on one of the plates as she directed. She positioned it a bit and told me to put my hands on the bar in front of me. I slowly felt the plates start to close and thought to myself that this wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but I could do it.

After being rearranged for a few different scans, it was time to show some attention to my left breast, the “problem” breast, as I was beginning to refer to it. I placed the “problem” between the plates, but this time when they started to close together, tears instantly filled my eyes and the words “fuck, that hurts” left my mouth without restraint. I gritted my teeth together for the rest of the scans and let out the breath I was apparently holding when it was done. The spot in my breast felt like it was burning, and I was well aware of it now.

Thankfully, the woman showed a bit more understanding when she stepped back toward me; she could tell that I was hurting. I shook it off and was brought back to a private waiting area while they reviewed the results. There were a few other women waiting, and every so often a nurse would come in and tell one of them that her “boobs looked great” and she was free to leave. I kept waiting and hoping they would say my name the next time they walked in, but they didn’t. My anxiety level began to creep up. For once, all I wanted to hear was my name.