“Why…yes.”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through the past year.”
“Yes, I do. You told me.”
She grumbled something and dropped her hands. “It’s not fair.”
“What’s not? You living out your future the way God intended? This is not about me or what I said. This is about you. And you’re being a chicken-shit.”
“How dare you?”
“Me? What about you, Nat? You lied to your husband about working, and you’ve been lying to yourself for months about where you truly belong. Who’s really at fault here?”
“It’s not as simple as you think it is, Bell. I’m married. I have responsibilities to my husband, to our marriage, to the baby growing inside of me.”
“Who are you trying to convince? Because it sounds like another monologue.”
“Fuck you.”
She believed he anticipated her turning away from him and running away. But she stood firmly in front of him, stalling his half-cocked effort to come tumbling after her.
It was the first time in the months following the day Natalie Chandler Greene met Bellamy Lambert, that she’d ever seen him remotely disheveled. Then they gazed idly at each other, staunchly, stubbornly…openly.
“Tell me, puppeteer. You have a handle on my life. Tell me what I should do? Tell me how I should react?”
“I think you already know the answer to that question, Nat. All you need was a push in the right direction.”
“The only person who could ever truly motivate me, is a man I’ve known for nearly ten years. He is the only person that has stood up for me, fought for me, and been my own personal hero since I was seventeen years old. He is the only person I would ever think to consult over something like this.”
“Then why haven’t you? Why were you so afraid to tell him about working here? Hmm? Why are you so afraid to move forward without him? What’s it going to take?”
“Because I don’t know a fucking life without him in it!”
It was then that she began to walk away. She was thoroughly finished with the tête-à-tête.
But she stopped. He was still standing there, watching her amble away from him. She could feel is pale green eyes on her back.
She turned to him. His hand was casually hooked into the pocket of his linen pants. He was arrogant, the son of a bitch, standing there, anticipating her.
Her lips quivered as she parted them. “You know nothing of this feeling. You know nothing of love. You know nothing of being in love. Don’t presume to tell me how to handle my own fucking heart.”
And she disappeared from his view.
SHE WAS SITTING AT A COFFEE BAR TWO BLOCKS DOWN THE ROAD WITH ZULY, piecing over a half-eaten chunk of focaccia.
She was peculiarly distracted, lost in her own thoughts, sickened by her own stubbornness.
She wanted to blame it on something – her hormones, her lack of sleep the night before, Brandon’s snoring, Brandon’s bossiness, pressure from her mother.
But she couldn’t. She wanted to part ways with how she’d acted in the hospital courtyard with Bellamy, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
But she’d missed an opportunity. A big one. One that could’ve changed the course of her life forever.
But she thought about Harper and Brandon, and how much they meant to her, and she retracted into herself again.
“Jesus Christ, Nat, you’re a zombie today.”
Natalie locked eyes with her loud, Cuban, lesbian counterpart and sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just spit it out.”
She dropped the piece of bread. “I should’ve stayed in bed with my husband this morning like I started to. Everything’s been fucked up ever since.”
“I’m confused. You wanted to stay in bed and fuck Brandon…”
“You’re oversimplifying.”
“Well…I’m not a mind-reader.”
“Fair enough.” She ran her hand up her forehead, shutting her eyes tightly. “Staying with Bandon this morning would’ve kept me safe.”
“You’re sounding strange. What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you trying to be this cryptic?”
“Of course not.”
“Well…”
“I told Bellamy everything.”
With enlarged eyes, Zuly leaned forward. “Everything like what?”
“Things you don’t even know. Things between me and Brandon. Things Brandon doesn’t even know.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scared too.”
“How did you tell him?”
“It was late. I thought…I thought he was asleep. Brandon and I had gotten into a fight about something over the phone. He was out of town. And I rambled. I didn’t think he heard me.”
“Natalie…”
“I don’t want pity. It was my own fault. And now Bellamy knows that I was studying to be a doctor and I almost called off my marriage to Brandon.”
“You what?”
“Which part shocks you more?”
“Oh, I think you know which part.”
Natalie pursed her lips. “Yes, my bridesmaids were helping me put on my wedding dress, thirty minutes prior to when I was supposed to walk down the aisle. And I panicked. I dropped to my knees and became a victim of my own tears. I couldn’t breathe. And I thought about the idea of succumbing to Brandon for the rest of my life. Because as much as I love him, he scares me. My friend, Scotty, the best man, was the only person who could talk some sense into me. He was the only one who knew what I almost did. We never told anyone. The idea that my marriage to the only man I’ve ever really loved is a mistake, scares me. And now Bellamy knows.”
Zuly’s eyes idled over Natalie’s face spellbound. The scrutiny was slightly judgmental, as though Natalie had purposely thrown an obnoxiously large wrench into the perfection that was her life with Brandon.
The unseen orgasm achieved from unwarranted sabotage.
But she remained dry-eyed, and stared back vacantly, obsessing over the idea of what seeing Bellamy would feel like inside.
“Natalie.”
Natalie dropped a napkin on top of her half-eaten sandwich. “I know, I know.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“You know that’s not my style.”
“Try something new today – it’s contagious, apparently.”
Zuly parted her lips to say something, but the irritant ringing of Natalie’s cell phone disrupted them.
Sighing heavily, Natalie reached into her purse to retrieve it.
“Yes, baby.”
“Are you busy?”
It sounded as though her husband was walking outdoors. The sound of his voice soothed her. She released a belabored breath.
“Never for you. What’s up?”
“If you wanted to eat at any restaurant in the city for dinner, where would you choose?”
“I don’t know, baby. I barely know the city, why?”
“Just pick one.”
She quickly searched her brain, but unseen distractions dumbfounded her.
Damn you, Bellamy. She sighed with ill-achieved resolution.
“There was that really fancy Cuban place I was eyeballing a couple of weeks ago. Zuly mentioned something about the food being fantastic.”
“Good, invite her. Seven sound good?”
“I’d rather just meet at home and finish what we started this morning.”
“In due time, baby. Make that seven-fifteen.”
“Brandy, what’s gotten into you?”
“Do you know how to get there?”
“Zuly can show me.”
“Good. I’ll see you there, Tallie. Don’t be late.”
He hung up the phone.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Brandon get that excited about anything, save for the flight down to the Caribbean for their honeymoon. She was his new favorite toy, one he couldn’t wait to explore, under the solitary bliss of palm trees and banana leaf fans.
She suddenly longed for that newness again.
She replaced the phone in her purse, brows furrowed. “Hmm, that was strange.”
“Brandon seems to be quite unpredictable.”
“He’s always been like that. And he wants you to come.”
“What time?”
“Seven-fifteen.”
“You driving?”
Natalie nodded amenably.
“I’m there.”
THE REMAINING HOURS IN THE WORKDAY WENT BY IN A BLUR. The clichéd remark on the day’s time in Natalie’s brain was an applauded interference.
And Bellamy Lambert kept a respectable distance. His eyes didn’t even idle in her direction.
Hell, even Older Lambert pulled her aside and encouraged her to join him on another surgery the following week. “Only when you’re completely ready,” he said. Then he swiftly walked away as though the conversation had never occurred.
She allowed herself the privilege of exuding a burdened breath.
Zuly came to grab her as soon as the first shift nurses were making their final rounds.
Natalie was leafing through the last bit of paperwork, while a nurse breathed over her shoulder. Normally, Bellamy would’ve been there to stop the onslaught of unabashed, indirect micromanagement. She hadn’t seen him. She wanted to find it strange.
But, instead, it was refreshing.
Zuly comfortably rested her elbow on the blade of Natalie’s shoulder, coaxing her. “I’m starving.”
Natalie gazed unwillingly in her friend’s direction. Any sudden movements could mean that she’d see him again. And be faced with the knowledge of what she’d said.
He knows.
“Are you driving?”
Zuly pursed her lips. “No. But I just wanted to remind you of my needs.”
“I knew your needs two hours ago when you spent thirty minutes talking about how great their steak chimichurri was.”
“Fine. But I’m trying to impress a sense of urgency here.”
“Understood. Let me fill out this last form then we’ll get to it.”
“You’re not excited to see your husband?”
Natalie huffed. “I’m always excited to see him. Guilt trips only work on me if you’re six-four, have a huge penis and name rhymes with ‘random’…got it?”
“Point taken. Natalie let’s go!”
She didn’t think to budge until she felt her stomach growl. Harper’s hungry.
She grabbed her purse and her keys, took Zuly’s wrist and led them toward the elevators. The hospital was quiet for once, as though all the patients had opted to sleep and forget their mottled ailments.
Natalie envied their well-deserved sense of calm.
They reached the parking lot when she felt her phone vibrate. The skies had turned; the air was clear, pure, effervescent.
She gazed down at it. Brandon.
“Yes, my baby?”
Her voice was sweet and light. She wanted to tantalize him with it. It drove him crazy.
He sighed. She could hear it in his tenor. How was it possible to still feel such a thing after all of these years? Did it simply get stronger with time?
“I’m here…at the restaurant. And I want to see you.”
“Soon. Zuly and I are getting into the car now.”
The urgency grew, and her fingers trembled. What was that feeling, exactly? Where did it come from? It had to be bigger than love.
“Good. I’m at the bar. There was a small wait. Thirty minutes. I shall enjoy this beer and people-watch until you get here.”
She and Zuly sank into her car. She fumbled to put the key into the ignition.
“Just as long as your watching of people doesn’t involve any attractive females.”
“Never, baby. You should know by now that you drive me nuts.”
“Good. I’ll make sure to remind you of that later.”
She turned the key and got no response from her engine. She locked eyes with Zuly.
Brandon chuckled. “I’ll make sure you uphold your promise.”
She tried the starter again – no response. “Brandy, I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“Love you more.” He hung up.
Natalie looked at Zuly once more. “Shit.”
She then realized in all of the haphazard foolishness that the morning had brought her, she’d forgotten to stop at the gas station to fill her tank.
She’d been low for two days.
She sat back in her seat, stupefied.
Zuly mimicked her actions. “So, what are we going to do?”
“I’ll just call Brandon and have him come get us.”
“Natalie, the restaurant’s twenty minutes away. I’ll just drive.”
“Are you sure?”
Zuly started to remove her seatbelt. “Yes. Let’s make haste. I’m starving.”
“I owe you an appetizer or something.”
“Shut up. It’s nothing. Grab your shit. Let’s go. My car’s in the deck on the other side.”
But there was someone approaching the car; a swift, deliberate, poised amble in their direction.
It was he – in a tan trench coat, with rain-dappled broad shoulders, tousled hair, and zealous eyes of Paris green.
Natalie reflexively rocked back on her heels and swallowed thickly. Bellamy.
“Hey, you.”
Zuly’s greeting was open and inadvertent; Bellamy looked at Natalie.
“Hey.”
His voice was soft and restrained. Caring.
Natalie cleared her throat. “Zuly, come on. We’re already ten minutes late.”
The two girls started to walk. Natalie refused to look back.
She felt him anyway.
“I heard your car…having trouble.”
Natalie stopped. She didn’t turn.
“Let me help.”
Zuly leaned in close to her. “It would be a lot quicker, than the ten-minute walk to my car.”
She didn’t think to protest – it didn’t cross her mind.
Strange.
She turned around to him. She was sure he’d stopped breathing in anticipation of her answer. “Fine. Let’s go.”
AND SOMETHING STRANGE HAPPENED ON THE DRIVE OVER. They rode silently in his truck. Bellamy kept his eyes ahead of him. They were vacant, illuminated solely by shameless moonlight. His music – soulful, uncharacteristic, and metropolitan, reeked of nighttime. Unseen visages of dreams, dipped in red wine, sex and starlight.
And she stared at him, audaciously.
She could smell him – freshly laundered clothes and spearmint and something else. Maybe shampoo.