Chapter Four

Haunted

It was one of those nights. The kind where the wind howled, rustling through the trees, whistling past buildings, rattling windows. The sort of night where memories could creep in. The sort of night, where a person lay in bed, letting the memories haunt them. Isobel was no exception. She lay there, listening to the wind batter the outdoors, trying to think on anything but the past. She blamed the damned journal more than she blamed the night. When Dr. Hennessy had first handed it to her, her first instict had been to throw it away. Instead, she had brought the slender brown book home, carried it to her bedroom, and left it on her desk. She had no intention of following through with the assignment. Her regrets were her's, to do with as she pleased. What pleased her was burying them in the back of her mind, hidden from in the darkest recess of her memory. To write them down would bring them to the surface. As long as the regrets and what might have beens stayed buried, she was free to live in denial. She liked denial. In denial, her life was everything she wanted it to be. It was complete.

'Is it? Is it really complete?' A frown mars her face, wrinkling her brow. The fact that it wrinkled at all told her it was time to visit Dr. Joel again, get injected with poison that kept her face frozen in beauty. That was what she had become. The sort of woman who let her career become her life, and gritted her teeth while some over paid plastic surgeon injected a mixture of chemicals and botulism into her face. A slight smile lifts the corners of her mouth. How Alex and her use to make fun of those women...

"Look at that one?" Alex whisphered, nodding to the leggy redhead. Breasts that were too large and too perky to be real spilled out of her second glove halter top and lips that were too pouty shimmered with an extra thick coat of gloss. "Twenty bucks says she's here to get her lips injected again."

Izzie laughs, rolling her eyes. It was a silly bet. One she would lose. Alex had a knack for calling what a patient was in for. She couldn't recall him ever getting one wrong. Funny that she was the one going into plastics, while he delivered babies. "Seriously? I don't think her lips could handle any more collagen. With wrinkles like that, I'm betting Botox."

"Nope. Oh pucker mouth there is obsessed with her lips," He chuckles as the woman dabs more gloss on, as though to prove his point. He nods in the direction of a slender blond wearing a black pants suit. There was an air of coldness about her. "Now she is here for Botox."

Frowning, Izzie watches the woman. There wasn't a wrinkle anywhere. Not on her clothes, not on her face. It was as though she was frozen. The woman looks up from the laptop she is typing on, their eyes meet for a split second. "Yeah. I guess you're right," Izzie murmurs, looking away.

She had become that woman. The frozen woman who didn't wrinkle. She raises a hand to her smooth forehead. Perhaps she should just skip the injections, let herself go. Who was she trying to impress anyways? There was no one. There hadn't been in a long time. Rolling onto her side, she closes her eyes, thinking of the last time someone had touched her...

It had been years since she had seen him. The last day of their residency at Seattle Grace. He had taken a partnership offer from one of his old proffessors. Amanda hadn't been very keen on the idea of moving to Iowa, but she loved him and would go where he went. There had been no exchanging of phone numbers or addresses. There had been no reason to. He was married. Happily married. To a woman who was friends with Addison and Callie, so she knew Izzie's dirty little secret and the real reason Callie had divorced George. To save face, Callie had told everyone her and George had rushed into something, then regretted it. They had all moved on. Callie with a man who worked for her father, George with Olivia. The last she had heard, George was now a proud father to a little boy. She had also heard that Amanda Karev was expecting. A baby girl this time. Their first child had been a boy. Bradley.

"Izzie? Izzie Stevens?"

The sound of his voice had startled her at first. She had almost dropped the ridiculously small plate full of sweet things she didn't need. She couldn't help it, though. Chocolate was the closest she was getting to an orgasim. It was a slap in the face, to hear that voice, to turn around and see that face. "Alex Karev." she says back softly. He looked the same.

"How've you been?" Before she could answer him, his arms were around her, engulfing her in a hug. She closed her eyes, savoring the smell of his cologne. It felt so good, to be in his arms. Even if the hug was brief, ending much sooner than she would have liked.

"Oh. I'm fine," she said with a false bravado he must have seen through, given the look of concern that came across his face. "I work for Mercy West. It isn't Seattle Grace, but then, not many hospitals are."

He nods, the concern still there. "What about you? How are you?"

She shrugs. "I'm me." She looks down at the plate in her hand. Suddenly the desserts didn't appeal to her. Alex would soon start talking about Amanda and their children. She wasn't sure she could handle that. Maybe if she had her own family...

"Yeah. You're you." He grins at her, those dimples sending a shiver down her spine. He takes the plate from her hands, sets in on the nearest table. "Take a walk with me? Not sure I can take much more of this play nice shit."

She nods, following him out of the crowded confrence room with its buffets and constant chatter. They walked anywhere and nowhere. Talking. There was little said about his wife and children. Just a simple 'they're fine' when she asked. She had felt she should ask. The night sky was full of stars when they finally headed back to the hotel where the confrence was being held. He walked her to the door of her room. He hugged her again, holding her tight, as though he was afraid to let her go.

It started as just a kiss. A simple brushing of her lips across his. Just to see if that electricity was there. The moment her lips touched his, it was as though a thousand fireworks had gone off. Alex was the one to deepen it. His mouth fully covering her's. The hands that were holding her waist moved up, sliding along her rib cage. She whimpers a bit when they graze the underside of her breasts. Her tongue sweeps into his mouth as her arms wind up around his neck.

A s suddenly as he started it, he pulled back. There was a look of horror in his eyes. "Oh God..I..I'm sorry." The words trip off his tongue. He stares at her a moment longer, fear etched on his feature. "I..I have to go..."

Izzie doesn't wait for him to leave. She simply unlocks her door with the card the hotel clerk had given her. Shutting the door, she leans against it, her heart pounding. He was married. Alex was married. The soft knock startles her. Taking a deep breath, she moves away from the door. Twisting the knob, she lets the breath out.

The moment she opens the door, his mouth covered her's again. He kicks the door shut behind him, pulling her against him. His fingers disappear in her mass of golden curls. She closes her eyes as his mouth trails down her throat. It was wrong. Yet, it couldn't be wrong, not when it felt so right. His hands cupped her ass, pressing her closer. They move downward, toward the hem of her black sheath. A small moan escapes her mouth when his fingers drag her panties down. Her fingers fumble with the buckle of his belt, then with the button and zipper of his slacks.

The door was hard and cold, though she only thought that for a moment. All reason and sensation fled when he pressed himself into her. She could feel his thickness stretching her. She tightens her arms around his neck, moaning as he fully thrusts into her. It didn't matter that the door knob was digging into the back of one of her legs. All that mattered was Alex was making love to her.

'No,' a small voice of reason taunts. 'He makes love to his wife. You are just the dirty whore he's fucking.' A tear slips down her cheek. Alex was married. With children. She didn't mean for the sob to come out. It did, though. Soon, while he was thrusting into her, her whole body was wracking with sobs. The agony of realizing she had slept with another married man didn't keep her from crying out in release.

When Alex lets her legs drop, Izzie slides to the floor, sobbing. She buries her face in her hands, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Izzie," he says softly, kneeling in front of her. His fingers wrap around her wrists, pulling her hands away. She looks up at him, her eye make up running down her face. "Don't cry, Iz. Please don't cry." He pulls her into his arms, holding her tight. She feels him bury his face in her neck.

Slowly, she raises her arms, to push herself away from him. Instead, she wraps them around him...

Her eyes fly open. She gulps. That had been the begining, far from the last time Alex had touched her.. Not for the first time, she wonders if Amanda ever knew. If she had ever figured out why Alex took all the West Coast confrences or business trips. Most likely not, Amanda loved Alex. Women in love never wanted to see those things.

The room suddenly seemed to be suffacting her. Throwing back the covers, her lower lip trembles. It had been hard, standing at the edge of the cemetary. She should have been the one standing at the head of his grave. She was the woman he loved. He had told her that over and over again. Amanda had needed him though. She had no one.

Isobel frowns. Who did she have? No one. What had been the diffrence between Amanda and her? A piece of paper. A stupid piece of paper. Except, that paper had meant something to Alex. For better or worse, he had stayed. Her frown deepens. Dr. Hennessy had asked her if she loved him. She had answered in a vague callus way. That was how use to covering it up she was. She had loved him. More than anything else, she had loved Alex. A tear slips down her cheek as the wind rattles the glass panes of the windows. It was the memories. She would blame her unease on the memories. And that damn journal.