A week.
All I can think about is that it's been a week. A week since I assumed the role Chief of Surgery, a week since the disaster of the banquet dinner. More frustrating for me is the fact that it's been a week since I asked Bella to move in, and I've yet to receive a response.
I berate myself for the way I went about it.
Fuck! The timing was all wrong.
I should have waited until the fiasco of the banquet was well behind us, I should have chosen a more romantic way of doing it. I'm such an ass. I've let my own desire to cement our relationship override my common sense.
Who the am I kidding? After the debacle with Newton and Angela, I wouldn't blame her if she ran off screaming into the night, let alone move in with me. For some reason, I expected a different reaction. I anticipated surprise, hoped for excitement, what I did not foresee was a withdrawal. Bella being reserved concerns me, it's a sure sign of her worrying about something, and that just adds to my obsession over the time it's taking her to respond.
With difficulty, I turn my attention back to my itinerary. I'm expected to attend a two-day intensive seminar on new surgical techniques. The event will spill over into a full weekend with attendees taking the opportunity to network with colleagues and medical staff from interstate. The leisure time is planned to be pretty casual with no organized events. I contemplate asking Bella to accompany me; I'd really like her to be there, but I realize that Newton will be attending, and I'm not too sure how he'd behave. I decide to think on it; I have all day to decide what to do.
This is the first week of our new working relationship. We've been cordial and professional and have both worked hard to not have our personal issues jeopardize patient care and outcomes. Despite our long-standing animosity, neither of us would allow petty bickering to interfere with doing our jobs, but I have no doubt that at some point, we'd be revisiting the issue of his wife's infidelity.
I place the itinerary in my lab coat pocket and prepare to do midday rounds.
I stop off at the nurse's station to collect my patient charts. Newton is there, talking softly, yet animatedly into his phone. He glances up, and his demeanor changes the instant he sees me and hurriedly ends the call.
He moves around to the other side of the desk to stand and review charts alongside of me. His response at seeing me seemed to be one of caution, and I'm sure I detected an imperceptible smug smile as he finished the call. My curiosity is peaked.
"Everything all right, Doctor Newton?" I question without lifting my eyes from the chart in front of me.
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Doctor Masen," he says snidely as he enters something into his Blackberry and walks away.
"Just checking," I mumble under my breath and gather up a couple of charts, before I make my way down the corridor.
"If anyone needs me, I'll be on rounds, Jess."
.
.
I stare at the key until it becomes just a blurred, shiny object. My preoccupation distracts me from where my attention should be directed, on my patients, the Vankirk's.
I blink my eyes slowly to clear my head. Since the banquet, I've been overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts of Edward and his proposal for us to cohabit. God, please don't let me think of the banquet again! For a week now, it's felt like I've been trying to find my way out of a complex maze, and I'm no closer to finding my way out than when he first asked. I bring my focus back to the Vankirk's with a concerted effort.
She's in her early forties, and he's nearing fifty. They've been in therapy with me longer than any of my other patients, and I confess to having a soft spot for them.
They were born into wealthy families, fell in love and married at a young age. They have five children; the youngest is only seven years old, and they refer to her as their miracle baby.
The Vankirk's marital situation is probably one of the most common that a marriage therapist encounters, that of irreconcilable differences.
"Doctor Swan, we want to thank you for everything you've done for us." Mrs. Vankirk reaches across the table and places her hand on mine. "When we met you, we had briefly lost ourselves, and you've helped us to find our way and set us back on course. During our sessions, you've helped us to discover what it is that we want, not only as a couple, but also as individuals. After much discussion and by using the techniques you've taught us, we've reached a mutual understanding that we want different things. In discovering that we still have love for each other, we've also realized that we love deeply enough to want the other to be truly happy. Shaun and I have decided that at this point in our lives, we would be happier if we went our separate ways."
As a professional, I'm trained to not let my emotions surface, but I just can't seem to suppress my shock. The Vankirk's are the last couple that I thought would separate. They've been ideal patients, both wanting to find a way through their problems, honest and caring with each other. They've attended every therapy session as a couple, never missing an appointment, and each time they left, it was as a united front, committed to making the changes for their marriage to work. To say that I'm disappointed professionally and for them personally would be an understatement; I'm saddened.
"I apologize for my reaction. I'm...I'm just a little…"
"Surprised? We can see that, Doctor Swan." Shaun smiles warmly, and I glance over to his wife, dismay still evident on my face. They share an affectionate look and link hands.
I'm more confused than ever. Never in my time as a therapist, have I experienced a couple facing the end of their marriage so calmly and seemingly content with each other. I've witnessed anger, bitterness, resolve and quiet dignity, but never this mood of deep affection and contentment.
"But it's obvious that the two of you still love each other. I don't quite understand why you've taken such a drastic step, why not keep working on finding common ground?"
"We do love each other, Dr. Swan, very much. That love has lasted for over twenty-five years, but we've realized that we want different things now. We'd be asking the other to sacrifice too much personally if we remained together. We have five beautiful kids, and we're committed to continue co-parenting, despite being divorced," she says with heart-felt honesty.
"Of course, you will, Mrs. Vankirk. Joanna, Shaun, please forgive me if you feel I'm not being supportive or accepting of your decision, I merely want to ensure that you are not being too hasty. I don't mean to…."
"Doctor Swan, no apologies. You've helped us in so many ways. We owe you a great deal. We've just realized that even though we love each other, it doesn't mean that we are meant to be together." I fight to contain the lump forming in my throat, but thankfully, do not show them the extent of my feelings.
"And we don't regret, nor would we change the years we've spent together because of the wonderful family we've created, but sometimes we wonder what the outcome would have been if we had not rushed and moved in together all those years ago. "He turns to his wife and brushes away her tears. I quickly pluck a tissue from the dispenser and hand it to her and fight to hide my own distress.
"I'm sorry." My voice sounds throaty. "I'm generally not affected this much, but I had truly hoped that you two would go on to have another twenty-five years of married happiness."
"Please, stop apologizing. It shows how much you care about your patients. We will forever be grateful to you, Doctor Swan. We may not have saved our marriage, but you have helped both of us to grow and to gain a better understanding of what true commitment to a relationship means. We're still committed to our relationship, but to the one that transcends marriage, that of being parents to wonderful children." They stand, and I see them to the door.
"Thank you, Doctor Swan." They hug and kiss me on the cheek before leaving my office for the final time.
I close the door behind me and lean up against it, taking a deep breath.
Just when you think you've made a difference, and that at the end of the day you've helped a couple to find happiness together, life throws you for a loop. For some reason, the end of the Vankirk's' marriage impacts me deeply. I find it hard to find any solace in the fact, that despite not being able to help save their marriage, that I played a small part in them attaining personal happiness. I can't help but think that if two people who so obviously love each other can't make a relationship work, what hope does anyone else have?
My eyes settle on the silver object. I pick it up, wrapping it tightly in my fist. I gather my handbag and cardigan, lock my office and let Leah know that I'll be out for the rest of the day.
.
.
.
I turn up the volume on the car radio, loud enough I hope, to drown out unwanted thoughts, but I can't seem to get my mind off Edward. My heart wants one thing, but my head is telling me another.
"It's just a key. I mean it's not like it's a ring." I laugh dryly.
I know logically that this would be the natural progression in a serious relationship. It makes sense to live under the same roof to really get to know each other, learn the other's habits and quirks, see what you love and what you can tolerate; argue and make up. And if you can't reconcile your differences, decide whether there's a future or not.
The Vankirk's words weigh heavily on my mind, as I pull into a parking space and switch off the engine. I retrieve the key from the glove box and leave the car. I smooth my skirt, square my shoulders and walk up to the glass doors.
.
.
.
"Okay, what game are we playing?" She frowns as I place the key on her desk in front of her.
"It's a key, Rosalie."
"I can see that." She arches a brow sardonically.
"Sometimes, I wonder how it is that we're friends instead of enemies." I roll my eyes. "It's a key to Edward's home, as in he wants me to move in with him."
She shrugs. "So, move in with him."
"Rosalie!"
"What? I don't get what the problem is here, Bella. You've obviously already made the decision to be with this man. Yes, it started off kind of sleazily." She takes in my outraged expression and my ready protest, but she quickly cuts in, "…but the two of you are like no two people I've ever seen. When I watch you together, it's obvious that you're just meant to be."
I lean back in the chair and exhale sharply.
"Bella, I know that Edward is not an easy man to be with, but you knew that from the moment you accepted him as a patient, and you knew even more about his past when you made the decision to get involved with him. Now, I'm not trying to put everything off onto you, but we all make choices, and you chose him. What's happened to make you doubt yourself now?"
"I place a key on your desk, and you conclude that I have doubts about my relationship with Edward?"
"You wouldn't be sitting in my office at one in the afternoon if you just wanted me to tell you how pretty and shiny the key is, Bella. You're not the only one clinically cleared to understand the working of people's minds." She taps on the gold plaque on her desk.
"Okay, hypothetically…"
She rolls her eyes with a huff.
"Okay fine, without getting into every detail, there was a situation at St. Luc's banquet. Let's just say one of his old 'conquests' popped up."
"You mean one of the attendees at the banquet he used to bang was there," she corrects me.
"Jesus, Rose, can't you ever just listen and not analyze." I stand up in frustration and pace around her office.
"Okay, hypothetically…wait why do we have to do this anyway? Edward is no longer your patient. Unless…." She studies me pointedly, but I don't say a word.
"Either this conquest dates back to when you were still bound by doctor/patient confidentiality, or the conquest is actually your patient. Damn, I'm good!" She pounds on her desk, as she assumes that she's right in her assumption.
"Maybe you've missed your calling. Psychic suits you better," I scoff.
"Does that mean I'm right?"
"You know I can't answer that, Rose. The point I'm trying to make is that one of these women reared their ugly head, and it wasn't an isolated incident. I'm willing to bet that it won't be the last, and now he's asked me to move in with him."
"Are you bothered by Edward's past, Bella?"
I run a hand through my hair and exhale. "I wasn't at first, but now…"
"Now?"
I look at her, still unsure of what I feel, and she waits patiently with her fingers tented.
"Rose, he's amazing, and I love being with him. He frustrates me to no end, and yet I can't imagine my life without him; but I'm becoming this person…. a jealous girlfriend."
"That's understandable. You're not dating someone who's been a monk."
"You sound like him."
"Look, Bella, Edward is an exceptional man for many reasons, and the fact that he overcame what happened to him without completely losing himself or doing something criminal, is miraculous," she says matter-of-factly and begins flipping through a file.
"The point you're making hardly excuses his behavior, Rose. So, it's okay for him to just leave a trail of broken hearts and ruined marriages in his wake, while justifying his actions with the excuse that it was his way of dealing with what happened to him?"
"What happened to him? Bella, he was unknowingly drugged and raped, by a woman he then felt duty-bound to marry. He did that, Bella, because he wanted to do the right thing by her and a child he believed to be his. I can't imagine the humiliation he must have felt having to deal with that for all those years, and then to find out all the other garbage that she pulled. I think I would've snapped. Yes, Edward dealt with the sexual assault and being deceived in a bad way, but all of those women were willing participants. They had the choice to say no, just like you had the choice not to get involved with him, but now here you are."
"Thanks for being my friend and not berating me like a child, Rosalie," I bite out sarcastically, but I also feel a tinge of betrayal. I'm a bit hurt and ticked off that she doesn't understand what I'm going through.
"You misunderstand me. I'm simply saying that you are a confident, strong woman who didn't put up with Jake's shit, and you didn't pull any punches with Edward either. You have to take responsibility for this, Bella. From what I can gather, Edward has never painted himself as a saint, no matter how beautiful the picture looked. He never hid himself. It was always up to you, what you could handle; and you chose him. Out of this mess, the two of you found something special together. Edward is in love with you, Bella, and the fact that you haven't said that you love him speaks volumes."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, I know it's probably hard to admit it to him, but you haven't said it, even to me. Maybe you already know the answer to the question you came here to get insight on. Maybe you've already made your decision."
I mull over her words, and I know that she's right. I mentally applaud her reverse psychology tactic. She knows it's the only way to effectively get through to me, to get me to really think things through.
"Thank you, Doctor Hale. You're the best." I walk around her desk and kiss her cheek before hurrying out.
"You forgot your key!"
I run back in as she tosses it, and I catch it in mid-air. "I'll call you later.
"Tell Edward I said hi."
"Will do."
.
.
.
"I have a business trip scheduled for next weekend. Come with me." He kisses my lips as he crouches over me, tiny water droplets drip from his hair, tickling my face. We've just made love, and he's fresh out of the shower.
"I can't. I have a full schedule all of next week, I don't have the time to prepare for a trip at such short notice."
"That's why you have a receptionist, Sweetheart."
"I can't go, Edward. Rain check?"
"Absolutely," he whispers against my lips and kisses me deeply.
He reluctantly pulls away and rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
"It's been a week."
"Pardon me?"
"It's been a week since I asked you to move in with me. Should I be worried?" He turns those intense, stormy eyes on me, and I feel like a suspect in an interrogation room.
"No, there's no reason to be worried." I smile reassuringly. "I just need a little time to think about things. Moving in with you is a big step...life altering. I just want to think about the pros and cons thoroughly."
"Pros and Cons? I don't snore. I always make sure the cap is on the toothpaste and to flip the toilet seat back down. What more do you need to know?"
"If only it came down to toilet seats and toothpaste." I laugh and ruffle his damp hair.
"I'm serious. What do I need to do to get you to say yes, Bella?"
"You don't have to do anything. I just want time to think about your offer."
"All right. Time it is." He turns off the bedside light, and we snuggle into the covers, wrapped around each other.
"How much time?"
I giggle at his persistence and kiss his chest. "I'll have an answer for you when you come back from your trip next weekend. Will that do, Doctor?"
"Yep, sounds perfect to me." He kisses my forehead and drifts off in no time.
I'm a little surprised that he just let it go so easily. He's really proving to be a changed man and yes, I do love him.