Chapter 4
1136 Words
Tanner's company had sent him overseas to lead a project—he'd been gone for four full years. Word had it the project was wrapping up, and he'd be transferred back next month.
Yvette froze for a second, her gaze going distant. "Soon... It's been over four years. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and can barely remember what he looks like."
I said, "Yvette, I need you to think hard about this. If your condition never fully goes away, Wendell will keep treating you behind closed doors. Once or twice is one thing—but what about three years? Five? When Tanner comes back and walks in on something like that... Do you really think he won't care?"
All the color drained from her face. After a long pause, she mumbled. "I... I told Tanner about my condition before. He said he felt bad for me, that nothing else mattered. So... I think he'd be okay with it."
I looked her in the eye and didn't push it further.
In my past life, the first time Tanner walked in on one of Yvette's episodes, Wendell had her halfway undressed, pressed up under him. His hands moved slowly down from her chest, inch by inch.
Tanner stood in the doorway, seething with anger.
He broke up with her right then and there.
Yvette refused to accept it. She knelt in front of him, sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
Things stayed tense between them for a long time after that. In the end, they still split up for good.
For the first two years they were together, everyone had been jealous of how perfect they were.
Tanner even came to see me once.
He'd had way too much to drink, his eyes bloodshot. He leaned against the balcony railing and asked, "Violet, how do you put up with all this?"
I repeated the exact line Wendell had used to lecture me. "A doctor only sees his patients. Yvette's my family—I can't just turn my back on her..."
Tanner let out a laugh—hollow and raw, worse than any cry. "Violet, you're lying to yourself."
Those words cut right through me.
I cried the entire night after that.
The next time Wendell went over to treat Yvette, I texted him to break up, then moved out.
I moved to a small city down south all by myself. I rented an apartment right by the river—every day I'd listen to the boat horns drift by and stare blankly at the ripples outside my window.
It took Wendell three months to track me down.
During those three months, Yvette had no one to treat her episodes. She tried to power through them alone and hurt herself pretty badly.
She'd just found out she was pregnant, and she lost the baby.
Wendell showed up at my door, worn ragged from travel, his eyes bloodshot.
It was the first time he'd ever blown up at me like that. "Violet, why do you have to be so selfish? Do you have any idea that a baby is gone because of you?"
He told me I owed Yvette an apology.
But he never asked about me. I'd lost my own baby, too, during those exact same three months.
*****
The next day, Wendell showed up just like I knew he would.
I sat at my vanity, filling in my eyebrows slowly. I called out a casual reply from my seat, then turned and slipped out through the back door.
I didn't want to see him.
I wandered down the street with no destination in mind. I passed a doughnut stand, stopped for a minute, and bought a bag. I bit into one—it was sweeter than I expected.
My life was my own. I didn't need to wait around for someone to toss me a few minutes of their time.
I kept walking until I found a movie theater. I bought a random ticket and sat down in a seat in the back corner.
An old movie played on the screen, light flickering through the dark room. I leaned back in my seat—for once, I felt a little lighter inside.
Then I glanced at the row ahead, and froze.
Two people were sitting right in front of me—one was Wendell, the other was Yvette.
They sat shoulder to shoulder. Yvette was leaning in, saying something quiet to him. Wendell tilted his head to listen, a soft smile on his face.
Whatever she said made him laugh—a low, quiet chuckle.
I set down my doughnut and stood up to leave right away.
I'd barely reached the aisle when I ran straight into someone.
He looked around twenty-seven, in a dark gray casual suit, with sharp, clear features. He stumbled back half a step from the impact, then reached out to steady me by the elbow. "Easy there."
He let go immediately once I was steady. He nodded politely and said, "Sorry, I was in a hurry. My fault."
I thanked him and was about to step around him when Yvette's voice called out from behind me, bright with surprise. "Violet? What are you doing here?"
I stopped in my tracks and turned around.
Yvette walked over to me.
Wendell stood up, too, but he wasn't looking at my face. His eyes were fixed right where the man in the gray suit had touched my elbow.
He narrowed his eyes. The smile faded from his lips. "Violet, I thought we had plans at that lakefront restaurant. Why'd you take off on your own?"
Then he turned to the man, his tone sharp and unfriendly. "You look a little pale. Low energy, probably. You shouldn't go around grabbing people—you might lose your balance and fall."
The man in the gray suit raised an eyebrow. He didn't get mad—he just chuckled. "I've got enough strength to help someone up. I can't just let a lady fall, can I? What do you think?"
Yvette must have picked up on the tension. She hurried to smooth things over. "Dr. Yount, you and Violet go ahead and enjoy yourselves. I'll head home first."
She turned to leave. She'd barely taken two steps when her body swayed suddenly.
Yvette grabbed the back of a nearby seat to steady herself. A flush started creeping up her face.
Wendell's face dropped instantly. He rushed over in a few quick steps and pressed his hand to her forehead. "You're running a fever. Where did you get overheated?"
He looked around the theater, his gaze finally landing on an air vent in the corner—blowing out hot air full blast.
Yvette couldn't speak anymore. Her whole body had started trembling softly.
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