“Alexis,” I say.
The color drains from her face and she looks like somebody staring straight at a ghost. She's every bit as beautiful as I remember her to be and standing so near her, looking into those eyes that captivated me from the start, makes my heart swell.
It's then I notice that she's pregnant. Very pregnant. My mouth falls open and she puts her hands protectively over her belly, almost as if she's trying to hide it. I look up at her, a million questions firing scattershot through my brain when a man I've never seen before angles himself between the two of us.
“Brad,” he says. “Brad Walker. And you are?”
I look at the man. He's tall and in decent shape, I guess. He's a little pasty, wears glasses, and has a beard. To me, he looks like maybe a high school science teacher or something. And judging by the aggressive way he's staring me down, I'd say that he's Alexis' boyfriend. The father of her child.
I am beyond floored, to be honest. Looking at how pregnant she is, Alexis has got to be due any time now. Which means that she sure didn't waste a lot of time after I left to get together with somebody. The whole time I was over there, I was pining for her. I was counting down the days until I could get back to her. I continued to revel in the connection we'd shared that night at the gala. I’d thought it meant something to the both of us.
So, imagine my surprise – not to mention my disappointment – to find out that the connection we shared didn't even have a twenty-four-hour shelf life before she was on to the next guy.
“Doctor Duncan Clyburne,” I say. “I'm a – friend – of Alexis'.”
Brad looks me up and down and I can see his hackles rising. He's quite obviously the jealous, territorial type. This bullshit macho posturing he's doing is irritating me and I have to fight off the urge to put my fist through his face.
I know it's an irrational response, and that I'm not really quite that irritated with him. I'm more pissed off about what he represents – the impediment to getting what I want. Alexis steps around Brad and is once again holding me fast with that penetrating gaze of hers.
“It's okay, Brad,” she tells him.
“You sure?”
She nods and gives him a soft smile before returning that gaze to me. I'm once again struck by its power and the tsunami of sensations it unleashes within me.
“Duncan,” she says. “I – I didn't know you were back.”
I nod, my eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, just got back.”
Brad is standing there looking from her to me and back again, clearly feeling like a third wheel in all of this – and looking none too pleased about it. The electricity between us is still every bit as potent now as it was eight months ago and it's leaving me dizzy. The fact that she's pregnant, though, brings me back to reality and that wave of lightheadedness passes quickly.
“You're – ummmm –” I start before my words fail me.
Color flares in her cheeks, twin spots of crimson on that perfect alabaster face. She looks down at the ground, unable to meet my eyes.
“Yeah,” is all she says.
I look to Brad who gives me a smug grin, as if patting himself on the back for getting her pregnant. The look on his face is that of a man who's achieved some incredible accomplishment, rather than something any man with a cock and a working knowledge of basic, high school anatomy can do. It takes everything in me not to reach back and punch him.
We stand in awkward silence for a long moment, Alexis' gaze still pinned to the sidewalk, Brad looking like the cat that swallowed the fucking canary, and me looking at her, not even sure what to say. I came home on the off chance that she was going to be available and willing to pick up where we left off.
I knew it was a roll of the dice when I chose to come home, rather than re-up. And it looks like I crapped out.
I can't be mad. I can't be upset. I have no right to be. I have no claim to Alexis and she's free to see whoever she wants to see and do whatever she wants to do. Even though I have no right, I still can't help but feel stung by how quickly she got back out there after I left.
That night at the gala, I got the impression from her that she wasn't on the market and wasn't looking for anything. That she wasn't interested in anybody else and that she didn't see that status changing anytime soon. Though she never said it, I kind of got the impression that she'd be waiting for me when I got home.
Obviously, my impression was wrong. Way wrong.
“So, how was Syria?” she asks, finally looking at me again.
I clear my throat. “It was a unique experience,” I answer. “It taught me a lot.”
“We should really get going,” Brad says, his voice tinged with impatience.
Alexis gives him a look I can't interpret, but it seems to be an expression of annoyance to me. Brad falls silent and glares daggers at me before looking away.
“H – how have you been, Duncan?” she asks.
Other than having all the plans I've been making in my head ripped out from under me?
“Good,” I say. “I've been good. How about yourself? The – pregnancy – going smoothly?”
She nods. “Yeah. Pretty smoothly,” she says. “I'm doing pretty well otherwise.”
“That's good,” I say. “I'm glad to hear that.”
Brad lets out a breath and very pointedly looks at his watch. Alexis rolls her eyes and huffs at him. Though, it gives me the perfect opportunity to get out of this awkwardness.
“Listen, I should probably get going anyway,” I say. “I don't want to hold you up any longer.”
“Duncan,” she says, her eyes earnest. “Wait, just a sec –”
“It was great seeing you again, Alexis. You look great,” I interrupt. “And good luck with the baby and all. I wish you guys the best.”
Without waiting for a reply, I move around them and head off down the sidewalk, my mind and heart spinning and churning. Pregnant. That word – and the sight of her – stick in my mind, driving out all other conscious and rational thought. Even though I have no right to feel one way or the other about it, the depth of my hurt and anger is immense. I want to lash out. I want to rage and punch something.
I walk along the crowded sidewalk, silently hoping that somebody will look at me cross-eyed, that somebody will step up and give me an excuse to unleash the pain and fury inside of me. It's not the mature, healthy response to the situation, I know. But beating somebody to a pulp would feel pretty damn good right about now.
I turn another corner and force myself to stop. I lean against the wall as the tide of people rushes by me and force myself to take a minute. To breathe. To relax. As a surgeon, the last thing I need to be doing is getting myself into a street brawl. My hands are my tools and getting them crushed because I'm trading punches with some meathead probably isn't the smartest thing to do.
“You have no right to be upset,” I mutter to myself, drawing curious glances from the people passing by.
That obviously didn't go the way I hoped it would go. Not even close. As I stand there on the busy sidewalk, the anger inside of me turns inward. What was I thinking? How could I have really thought she would have been willing to put her life on hold for me? Why did she give me the impression she would? She didn't explicitly say it, but she certainly gave me the idea that she wasn't going to be looking for anybody else and would wait for me.
With all of these thoughts and questions roaming through my head, I realize I need answers. And the only way I'm going to get those answers I need is to talk to Alexis. I need to talk to her – alone. I need closure and the peace of mind that it will bring with it.
Well, maybe not peace of mind, but at least the closure. At least, I'll be able to move forward with the knowledge of where I went wrong in my thinking.
The debate settled in my mind, I push myself off the wall, turn and head back the way I came. Hopefully, I can still catch up with Alexis.
Sixteen
Alexis
The night air is cool but soothes my suddenly warm skin. My stomach is in knots and my head is pounding as we walk along the crowded sidewalk. Brad has ahold of my arm, and he's guiding me quickly through the crowd. It's as if he's trying to put as much distance between us and Duncan as possible.
As we walk, my eyes burn with tears and my heart is stuttering. The knots in my shoulders are so tight, it's painful. In a city that's wall to wall people, what are the odds of running into Duncan on the street like that?
Seeing him brought back a flood of emotions – feelings I've been trying to bury for so long. But the truth is, he's never far from my thoughts. Hasn't been since that night at the gala. The connection we shared that night was more intense than anything I've ever felt before in my life – by far.
Brad tugs on my arm, pulling me along. “Brad, stop,” I say. “You're walking too fast.”
I stop in my tracks and press myself up against the wall next to a coffee house, refusing to move a step more. I pull my arm away from him and fold my hands protectively over my belly. Brad looks at me and I see the darkness on his face. He's angry. But as soon as his eyes meet mine, the expression of anger quickly disappears. His face is smooth, and he gives me a smile I can tell is fake.
“Sorry,” he says. “I was just trying to get us through the crowds.”
“You sure about that?” I ask.
“Of course,” he replies. “What else would I be doing?”
“Oh gee, I don't know, trying to get me as far away from Duncan as fast as you can?”
“What?” he asks. “You can't be serious.”
“Don't think I didn't notice the little power play you put on back there,” I snap. “You practically peed on my leg to mark your territory.”
“That's ridiculous, Lexi,” he protests. “I did no such thing.”
“Yeah, you kind of did, and I don't really appreciate it, Brad.”