Crushing On My Doctor: A Medical Romance Page 6

  After our rule talk, we moved on to more general things and I told Nadia I planned on going home the next day to collect some of my stuff. She waved away my idea of bringing bedding and towels and kitchen supplies telling me there was plenty of everything and whatever I could find I was welcome to use. We agreed that Nadia would continue doing the weekly shopping for things we would both use like bread, milk and toilet paper, that kind of thing, and that I would give her half of the money and then we’d buy our own favorite and preferred food.

  After we had eaten the pizza, Nadia grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed me one. We went through to the living room and sat drinking them. We are onto our third bottle now.

  “Aidan said you’d just graduated from college,” I say. “What did you study? Medicine?”

  “God no,” Nadia laughed. “Let Aidan deal with the vomit and the blood and who knows what else. I did a marketing degree. I worked for a few years as a marketing assistant before I went to college and I felt like I had so many ideas to offer, but no one took me seriously without the degree. One day I got sick of it and went and got the degree.”

  “So you’re going back to your old firm?” I ask.

  “No way. They didn’t want me when they had me. I’m starting at a new firm in a few weeks.”

  “Sounds good,” I say. “I thought maybe you were one of those families where you all went down the medical route.”

  “Not at all,” Nadia said shaking her head. “Aidan is the first one in our family to go down that route. Our dad is a lawyer and our mom is an office manager. I know it sounds like a cliché, but Aidan genuinely wanted to help people and so he got into medicine.”

  “That’s a good reason to do it,” I say. “And he really does help people. I mean he found me a place to live and everything. He must really care about his patients.”

  Nadia laughs and I frown at her. She shakes her head but she’s still laughing a little.

  “Look I’m not saying Aidan isn’t a good doctor because he is, but if you think he goes that far for each of his patients then you’re crazy,” Nadia said.

  “I don’t understand,” I say.

  “He likes you Erika. You must have noticed,” Nadia says.

  I look down into my lap and nod my head, my cheeks flushing slightly. I would blame the beer but it’s a little too obvious they only reddened at the mention of Aidan liking me for that to wash and so I don’t say anything about it.

  “Do you feel the same way about him?” Nadia asks.

  I nod again.

  “Thank God for that,” Nadia says. “Because I haven’t seen him like this in years.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, finally daring to look up from my lap.

  “Aidan has been a workaholic since his first day as an intern at the hospital. He’s worked his way up, but his work ethic has never changed. Work, work and more work. That was Aidan’s life. He didn’t date because the job was more important to him than actually having a life. But I saw the way he looked at you earlier Erika. He’s really into you,” Nadia says.

  I can’t help but smile at her words, because I am really into Aidan too and to hear that even his own sister thinks he feels the same way about me has pretty much made my night.

  “That’s mostly why I agreed to you having the room,” Nadia goes on. “I mean it was true that I was worried about getting stuck with a weirdo and Aidan is a pretty good judge of character so I figured I was probably safe from that if I went on his recommendation. But when he spoke about you, there was something in his voice that told me he thought you were special and that he wanted you in his life.”

  I smile again. I can’t seem to stop smiling. The more Nadia reveals, the more it sounds like Aidan really is into me. It proves that his kiss wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing that he might end up regretting. He actually likes me. It makes me even more glad that I told him I wanted him and it takes away the worry that he only agreed that he wanted me too in case he hurt my feelings.

  “I hope I haven’t said too much,” Nadia says suddenly and I realise I haven’t really spoken since she started telling me about Aidan. She probably thinks she’s scaring me off or something.

  “Not at all,” I say quickly. I debate how much to tell her. I like Nadia and she doesn’t sound like she’ll be pissed off if she thinks I’m into her brother. I decide to tell her the truth. “I really like Aidan too. We kissed earlier. And we exchanged numbers.”

  Nadia beams at me and I know I made the right decision telling her about our kiss.

  “So what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?” I ask.

  Nadia shrugs and shakes her head.

  “Not really. I mean there’s Brent, but we’re not really boyfriend and girlfriend. We’re just casual,” she says,

  “Do you want it to be more?” I ask.

  I know I’m being nosey but the beer is loosening my tongue enough that I just ask the question that’s on my mind. Nadia can always tell me to mind my own business if she wants to.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Some days I think I do and then other days I tell myself I like being single,” Nadia says. “I mean I like Brent, but that’s it. I’m not sure it will ever be more than that.”

  “It sounds like me and my ex to be honest. He was a nice guy but there was no spark between us and I called it off in the end,” I say.

  “Maybe that’s what I should do,” Nadia says. “Just cut Brent off and have a clean break. I think I would miss him if I did that though.”

  “Maybe wait a little longer and see how it goes then. Usually if you miss someone when you’re not with them it means you’re into them,” I point out.

  Nadia nods thoughtfully.

  “Yeah you’re probably right. And a few more weeks won’t hurt will it?”

  I shake my head and she leans across and clinks her bottle against mine.

  “Cheers,” she smiles. “I could get used to this roommate thing.”

  “Me too,” I agree.

  I was worried it would be awkward between Nadia and me but it’s been far from it. I was also worried I wouldn’t like having someone else in my living space after living alone for so long, but again, so far, it’s far from that. It’s nice having someone to have dinner with and talk about boys with.

  I had planned on going by my house this morning and collecting some of my things, but when I was making some coffee, Nadia came in and asked me if I fancied a little bit of retail therapy. She told me she was going out for an early dinner with friends and then onto a little cocktail bar afterwards and she wanted a nice dress to wear. I decided it would be fun to spend the day with Nadia, even though I didn’t want to blow money on clothes and shoes I didn’t need. And then I told myself I could go over to the house once Nadia was out. It would fill in some time that I otherwise would just be spending alone. Recovering from the attack, being on sick leave and not having anything to do to fill my days was going to take some getting used to.

  We went to the shopping center and tried on tons of outfits. We grabbed lunch in the food court and Nadia bought a beautiful red dress for her night out. She’s gone now and I’m just putting my jacket on ready to go to my house.

  I grab my keys and my phone and I set off walking. I stop in a small supermarket on the way and grab some food for dinner. When I leave the supermarket, I walk fast and I’m at my house in under fifteen minutes including the stop for groceries.

  I stand in my small garden staring at the front door. I’m nervous, afraid to go inside almost. I am worried that being back in the house will trigger my memories and I’ll have to relive the attack all over again. I tell myself that if that does happen, it will be a good thing. I can call Officer Prescott and tell her who the hell did this to me.

  With that thought in mind, I fish my keys out of my pocket, unlock the front door, push it open slowly and step inside. The familiar smell hits me first. The jasmine air freshener that I like. The scent of my perfumes lingering in the air. The hallway is und
isturbed and I walk down it on slightly shaky legs. I push the living room door open and I gasp when I see the room.

  The coffee table is broken, its legs snapped. One of them has a rust coloured stain on the end of it and my hand unconsciously goes to the cut on my head when I see it. It’s blood from my head. I force my eyes from the blood stain and keep looking around. My TV is on the ground, smashed. Shards of it lay all over. My picture from above the fire place is on the ground, torn. I feel tears coming into my eyes and I blink them away quickly.

  I know I need to start cleaning up the mess but I can’t face it just yet. I decide to go and pack my things first and take a look around to see if anything has been stolen like Officer Prescott asked me to do. The brief glance around the living room tells me nothing has been taken and I move through to the kitchen. Nothing is even an inch out of place in here. I go upstairs and find much the same thing. A few things in my bathroom and bedroom look like they’ve been moved, but nothing has been taken and I think the things that have been moved must be due to Jennifer getting my things together for me.

  I grab a large wheeled suitcase and open it on my bed. I go to my closet and start packing my clothes. I move on to my chest of drawers and it’s not too long until pretty much all of my clothes are in the suitcase except my work clothes. I’ll come back for them when I get to go back to work.

  I grab a smaller suitcase from the bottom of the wardrobe and fill it with the rest of my toiletries, make up and hair products. I wheel the two suitcases down the hallway and drag them down the stairs to the front door. I go back to the living room. It doesn’t feel like quite such a shock to the system this time as I’m expecting the mess and chaos.

  I go to the kitchen and grab a sweeping brush and a dust pan and a roll of black sacks. I go back to the living room and begin to tackle the mess. I have made a good start on it when I hear a knocking at my front door. My heart instantly starts to race and sweat bursts out on the palms of my hands, the soles of my feet and my scalp. I tell myself to calm down. It’s probably old Mr Pritchard from next door wanting to see if I’m ok. That reminds me. I really should go and thank him for calling the police the night of my attack.

  Cautiously, aware of the shards still on the ground around me, I push myself up from my knees. I move towards the door, trying to keep calm. The chances of my attacker coming back the very moment I happen to have come back has got to be too much of a coincidence to actually be happening.

  “Who is it?” I call as I reach the hallway, not liking the way my voice sounds at all. It sounds shaky and nervous.

  “It’s Jeremy.”

  Oh great. That’s all I need. I don’t feel strong enough to fend him off right now.

  “I’m not here to try to get you to change your mind about us Erika. I just want to make sure you’re ok,” he adds.

  I sigh and open the door. What’s the point of not opening it? He knows I’m here.

  “Why wouldn’t I be ok?” I ask when the door is open.

  Jeremy gasps as his eyes go to my neck.

  “I heard about the attack. Jeez Erika, look what they did to you,” he says.

  “I’m ok. Really. It looks worse than it is,” I say.

  Jeremy frowns in concern.

  “Do the police have the guy who did this to you?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “No. I can’t remember anything about the attack so they don’t really have anything to go on,” I tell him.

  “But your memory will come back right?” he says.

  I shrug.

  “It could , but there’s a chance it won’t,” I say.

  “Is being here alone a good idea?” Jeremy asks me.

  “I’m staying with a friend for now,” I tell him. I don’t want to get into the fact that I’ve only just met Nadia and I certainly don’t want to get into how I met her. “I just dropped by to collect some of my things. And then I started trying to sort out the mess. The attacker trashed the living room.”

  “Bastard,” Jeremy says, shaking his head. “What sort of a monster does shit like this?”

  I just shake my head, unsure of what I’m meant to say to him.

  “Let me come in and help you clean up,” Jeremy says.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I say.

  “I know I don’t have to,” he smiles. “But I want to.”

  I hesitate and he smiles again.

  “Look Erika I know I was a bit crazy for a few days after we broke up, but I swear I’m not going to try anything. I’ve accepted that it’s over between us, but I would like us still to be friends. And what sort of a friend would I be if I walked away now and didn’t help you?”

  He sounds genuine enough and to be honest, I could use some help. I’ll never get the body of the TV outside to my bin on my own and I will feel a whole lot less creeped out being back here if I have someone with me.

  “Well if you’re sure …” I say.

  “I am,” Jeremy insists and I stand back and let him inside.

  Jeremy

  I can’t believe Erika was gullible enough to let me into her home again. I suppose that’s not fair. She was gullible the first time. This time though, she genuinely doesn’t know any better. I can’t believe this worked out so well for me to be honest. It feels like it might be too good to be true.

  I came here this evening to find out exactly how much Erika knew about what had happened to her. I heard about the attack from one of her friends I ran into in a café yesterday. Or should I say I heard about why the police hadn’t already been to my door from one of Erika’s friends in a café yesterday. Her friend told me all about her little bout of amnesia, and while I had no reason to doubt her friend, I wanted to hear it myself directly from Erika. And I was curious to know if her doctors thought her memory would come back any time soon. Coming here was a risky move, but I had to know or I knew I would drive myself crazy thinking about it.

  From what she’s said so far, I’m pretty much in the clear. I should call it my lucky day and get the hell out of here and never see Erika again. But here’s the thing. I meant it when I said that if I can’t have her then no one else can have her either. I almost fucked up everything between us, but I have been given a second chance. A second chance to make Erika mine. And I intend to keep it and get my girl back.

  Last time I came here things didn’t go well. It all escalated so quickly, but I didn’t come to her place with the intention to hurt Erika. I intended to show her all of the reasons we were good together. But then she started acting like she thought she was better than me and I got angry and I hurt her. This time, I will keep my temper. I have sworn it to myself.

  I will keep sweeping up the mess in Erika’s place with her and act all concerned and friendly and like I’m worried about her, and I’ll make her see that I am someone she wants around. And let’s face it, it’ll help that she thinks she needs protecting in case whoever did this to her comes back again. Oh the irony of that.

  It’s pissing me off a bit that I made such a fucking mess here. If I had known I’d end up being here for the clean up, I might have taken it a bit easier. Especially on the damned TV. There are parts of that thing every fucking where.

  “Jeremy?” Erika says in her sweet little voice. I glance up and she’s smiling at me. That smile she always used to give me when she wanted something. “I know this is really presumptuous, but can I ask another favour?”

  “It’s not presumptuous. You can ask me for anything,” I say.

  And I will give it to you to prove that you need me, I don’t add.

  “Will you help me take the bulk of the TV and the cabinet and the broken up table down to the dumpster please?”

  “Sure,” I smile. I grab the largest piece of the TV in one hand and two table legs in the other. “Lead the way.”

  I can’t help but wonder if it’s all worth it at this point. I mean this is a lot of work for a girl who broke up with me. I tell myself it’s worth it. She’s worth it
. This is all just a part of our love story. We can tell our grandkids all about it all – how grandma was stupid and didn’t know what was good for her, so grandad had to show her, and then they all lived happily ever after.

  I reach the end of the hallway and Erika squeezes between me and the wall so she can open the door. She has the other two table legs and the smashed up canvas in her hand. That’s it. She’s letting me do the thick of the carrying, taking advantage of my good nature.

  I can feel myself getting angry again and it must show on my face, because when Erika has unlocked the door, she turns to me to say something and instead, she frowns when she looks at me. I have to keep a grip on my emotions until I get her back. It’s the only way. I can’t risk triggering her memory and having her remember the attack.

  She steps outside and I follow her around to the side of the house, towards the back yard and the dumpster.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her as she glances at me again, as though she’s the one acting weird.

  “Nothing, I … Are you sure you’re alright to help me Jeremy? Just you look kind of angry about it,” she says.

  An idea comes to me and I almost smile but I don’t. That would ruin what I’m about to say completely.

  “I’m not angry at you Erika. Or about helping you. Just seeing all of your things broken like this. That makes me angry. Like really angry. Who would do something like this?” I say.

  Erika’s face softens and she nods her head.

  “I was angry too at first,” she says. “Now I think I’m just trying to look on the positive side. I got out alive and I am trying to be thankful for that.”