Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24251 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
10
Randall
Castor.
That last name brings back hauntingly sweet memories of Olivia, of her loving caress and her soft moans. Her face flashes before my eyes as I stare at my clipboard, her beautiful smile and big brown eyes ingrained in my memory for all eternity. I can still feel her lips on mine, her hands in my hair, her body against mine, accepting me so sweetly.
That was over a year ago and our fling ended before it even began because of me and my stupid decision to not call her again.
After all, I’ve spent the past fourteen months in Italy, fighting the coronavirus pandemic and bringing medical aid to those who need it the most. When the opportunity to volunteer arose, I jumped on it immediately.
I meant to reach out to Olivia. I really did. But when I received the call from Doctors without Borders, a nonprofit organization that sends doctors all over the world to help fight on the frontlines of diseases, everything turned into a blur. I left that very night and my heart still breaks every time I think about her and my stupid mistake.
I think part of me didn’t want to say goodbye to Olivia. What we had was real and raw and it was something that I didn’t want to let go of. Phoning her was admitting that I wasn’t going to see her for a long time, and that what we experienced wasn’t special enough for me to stay. I couldn’t face that because that’s not how I feel at all. It’s just that there are many parts to my life, and with the world in crisis, I had to heed my calling.
Yet being back in Maine and seeing that oh-so-familiar last name on my clipboard has my heart drumming erratically in my chest all over again, my palms so slick with sweat that I nearly drop my clipboard as I approach the blue curtain in the ER wing of Memorial Hospital. What if this is a relative of Olivia’s? Will Olivia be with her?
Wrapping a hand around the curtain, I close my eyes briefly, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm my racing heart. When I think that I’m stable enough to pull back the curtain, I do.
My heart drops at the sight of her.
There she stands, Olivia Castor in all of her glory. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, her curls spilling from the elastic. Wearing short plaid pajama shorts and a tank top, she looks exactly the same as the first day I met her in this very ER. But there are small, subtle changes. Her eyes are heavier, thick with exhaustion and sleep deprivation, and her hips look fuller, wider, as if she’s gained some weight since the last time I saw her. She still looks absolutely stunning though, and my heart aches for her, for her touch, for her kiss.
I’ve missed her so much.
“Olivia,” I manage to rasp, shock dripping from her name as it leaves my lips.
She looks at me with confusion in her eyes, stunned into complete silence. Yet, something flashes in her pupils. There’s longing, desire, and passion for an instant. She looks at me, drinking me in like she’s been in the desert for years. But before I can say anything, the soft cry of a baby interrupts us. The curvy girl immediately turns to the exam table where a small child lies, wrapped in a pink blanket with soft purple mittens on her hands.
The baby’s face scrunches in protest as Olivia picks her up, gently holding her to her breasts and cradling her head. Olivia makes eye contact with me over the child’s tiny head, her breathing stirring the baby’s black strands of hair.
“Hi Randall,” she finally says after a few beats of silence. “It’s nice to see you again.” I realize that I’ve been staring at the baby in her arms, occasionally switching my gaze from her to the whimpering child. Is this her baby?
I clear my throat and place the clipboard down onto the small counter nearby. “I’m going to assume that this is Dorothy?”
She nods her head, swaying back and forth on her feet to soothe the child. She looks utterly maternal, and the sight nearly brings me to tears. “Yes. I had her a few months ago.”
I nod my head in understanding. So this is her baby. A thousand questions leap to the tip of my tongue, but I don’t ask them, instead focusing on the issue at hand.
“What seems to be wrong?”
Olivia avoids my gaze as she lays the little girl onto the exam table, the child stretching her chubby arms and legs while yawning.
“I noticed that she’s had a cold for a week or so. Runny nose, coughing, and restlessness. I just want to make sure everything is okay.”