Pulled (2 page)

Gently, I caressed along the puckered, angry scar slanting in a long, jagged line across my lower abdomen to where it crossed the smooth, silvered scar running in a horizontal line just above my pelvis, wishing she could somehow find comfort in my touch. Chil s shook my body as I ran my fingers over the stil sensitive skin, and just like every night, the bitterness and anger I found myself feeling faded away into sadness as I lost myself in this tangible reminder of my child. I loved her, so much.

Steam fil ed the room, and I eased myself into the water, al owing myself to drift back to Daniel. I missed him, almost more than I could bear. This was never supposed to have happened to us. We were supposed to make it…we
should
have made it.

“Melanie, hurry up and get in here!” I cringed as Nicholas yel ed from the bedroom.

Shit. I’d hoped he’d be asleep by now.

Reluctantly I rose and pushed the memories aside. I wrapped myself in my robe, slow to finish my normal routine. I shouldn’t have been stal ing; he’d wait.

Stil , I took my time as I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my long brown curls. I inhaled deeply and took one last look at myself before going into the bedroom.

“Don’t keep me waiting like that,” Nicholas rebuked from his place under the covers.

This was by far the worst part of our arrangement.

I couldn’t help but feel like a prostitute, cheating on my own heart when I lay beneath this man. I crawled into bed next to him, praying he would at least have the decency to turn off the light.

He untied the belt on my robe, reaching to grope my breast with his cal used hand. My body roiled with disgust that he mistook as anticipation. “You like that, don’t you,” he growled as his foulness spread across my face. I fought against my instinct to flee and instead, reached over to the bedside table and flicked off the lamp.

The blackness enveloped the room, al owing me to remove myself mental y from the sick situation. I closed my eyes to find an image of Daniel—
a flash of messy
blond hair.

“You’re mine.” Nicholas’s voice jerked me back into reality, making me acutely aware of his sweaty panting body hovering above me. I closed my eyes tighter, wil ing my mind away.

“Melanie, my love. You’re so beautiful,” he said
as he held my body against his, tender caresses igniting
a fire deep within me.

“Daniel,” was all I could manage as he made
love to me, each touch a whisper across my skin. He
gently kissed my neck as he moved against me, and I felt
the pressure build with each stroke of his body.

“Melanie, you feel so good,” he ground out, his
voice rough with emotion.

I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped my lips, the flash of desire that washed over my body as it remembered the way only Daniel could make me feel.

“That’s right. I feel good, don’t I,” Nicholas grunted as he finished and col apsed with al of his weight on me.

The nausea swept through me, and I pushed Nicholas away. “I need to clean up,” I choked over my standard excuse as I rushed to the bathroom. I fel to my knees at the toilet, desperate to purge away the hate I had for myself. The act left me feeling more empty and alone.

Holding onto the vanity for support, I pul ed myself up to stand. I rinsed my mouth and splashed water on my face—anything to make me feel clean again—but there was nothing that could wash away the shame.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the reflection no longer one I recognized. The girl I remembered was seventeen—ful of life and love. The one staring back at me may as wel have been dead. The only life left flickered in the periphery of my consciousness where a familiar comfort waited in the darkness. As I climbed into bed, I grasped for it, desperate to feel
him
for one moment more.

“Work, Daniel. Come on, get your shit together,” I mumbled to myself under my breath, raking my hands through my hair for the hundredth time today. Thoughts of
her
kept creeping in, and I found it impossible to focus on the contracts in front of me. After nine years, I should’ve been able to forget, but I knew I never would.

Melanie.

Part of me hated her, and that part stil wanted to track her down, to tel her how she had torn my heart out.

How could I hold it against her though? I knew what I’d done. Even then, I’d thought we’d stil get through it together.

Sighing, I ran my palm over my face in an attempt to wake myself up and read the submission in front of me one more time. I was completely exhausted, having substituted coffee for sleep for the last week.

Since arriving in Chicago five months ago, I’d sifted through countless contractors’ proposals for our new medical complex, weeding out the under-qualified and over-priced. I’d begun to think there wasn’t a single competent contractor in al of Chicago before I final y received, what looked to be, a promising bid. I’d spoken with their project manager just this morning and was now awaiting a cal from their CEO.

After Melanie left, I’d buried myself school, lost myself in the years of undergrad, medical school, and ultimately, my residency. As it turned out, I was a damn good doctor, even if there had been a point in my life when I thought I’d never make it through.

Dad had been insistent I come back to Colorado Springs to join his practice once I finished my rotation in New York City. He didn’t have to ask twice.

My dad Patrick Montgomery was a bril iant surgeon and researcher, devoting his life to breast cancer research and treatment. When I moved back home to Colorado, I’d known it was only temporary. A new practice in Chicago was already in the works. I honestly didn’t care where we settled;
she
wouldn’t be there, so it made no difference to me.

I wouldn’t begin seeing patients until I got the new building wel under way, and if I was going to meet my deadline, I needed to decide on the contractor by the end of the week.

“Hey, Daniel?” Dad appeared at my office door, his brown hair peppered with gray and the only part of him hinting at his age. Even at fifty-six years, he stil had his lean, muscled body, his build the one trait I seemed to have inherited from him. I took more after my mother Julia with her hazel eyes and dark blond curls.

“Yeah, Dad, what’s up?” I took another sip of my coffee as I looked at him.

“Erin is coming into town this weekend, and we’re having dinner at the house on Friday. Can you make it?”

“Erin? Yeah, I’l be there. How long wil she be in town?” My little sister had been living in Los Angeles for the last three years after accepting a position with a marketing firm. It felt wrong for her to be so far away while the rest of the family lived here in Chicago.

I’d always been close with my family. They’d stood by me during my hardest years, unwavering in their love and support. I owed them everything.

“She’l be here for the week. Your mom can hardly contain herself.” His brown eyes lit up. You’d think after being with someone for thirty years, a person would get bored, but not Dad. It was obvious he and Mom loved each other just as much today as they did the day they married.

I once believed Melanie and I shared a love like that.

He gestured to my desk with his head. “So, how’s the search coming?”

We’d both felt the pressure of the approaching deadline, but neither of us was wil ing to settle on anything less than the best.

I held up the smal pile of papers. “I think this may be the one.” I grinned—final y some good news.

A satisfied smile spread over his face. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.” That satisfaction shifted, looking a lot more like sympathy. “I’m proud of you, son.” I suppressed a groan, shaking my head in

frustration. “Dad...don’t.”

I knew exactly where this was heading. What could he say that hadn’t been said before?

“Daniel,” he said, stepping forward and letting the door shut behind him, “it’s been
nine
years. I’m tired of seeing you this way. It’s time to live your life.”

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

As much as I loved my family and respected my father, I was growing tired of their constant interference.

He shook his head as he retreated to the door. He paused to look over his shoulder, his eyes ful of concern as they searched my face for understanding. “We just worry about you.”

With a sigh, I rocked back in my chair, feeling guilty for lashing out at him. “Yeah, I know.” Flopping into my chair, I thumbed through the messages Lisa had taken while I’d stepped out for coffee. I stopped when I came to the one from Nicholas Borel i, happy to see he’d cal ed me back.

I dialed the number. He answered on the third ring, “Nicholas Borel i.”

“Hel o, Mr. Borel i. This is Dr. Daniel Montgomery cal ing you back about the medical building off Chicago Avenue. I spoke with Shane Preston this morning, and I wanted to see when the three of us could get together to go over your proposal in more detail.”

“Yes, I’ve been expecting your cal .” His voice was strong, confident, and held a distinct tone of arrogance. It caught me off guard especial y after speaking with his partner this morning.

“Wel , uh, I was hoping we could get together in the next couple of days to go over specifics so you could give me a final cost.”

“I was under the impression that there’s a senior Dr. Montgomery? I assumed I’d be working with him,” Borel i said, his voice condescending.

I found myself gritting my teeth, fighting to rein in my temper. Anger was an issue I dealt with constantly. It always simmered just below the surface. I didn’t know if I was angrier with Melanie or myself, but from wherever it came, it was always there ready to unleash its fury on the first person who rubbed me the wrong way.

But losing it now would get me nowhere, so I swal owed my irritation.

“No…,” I drew out, “I’m in charge of al building decisions.”

“I see.” Borel i’s dissatisfaction traveled through the phone. “Wel , I can meet you for dinner on Friday.” There was no way I was giving up dinner with my sister, and beyond that, nights were not good for me. It was hard enough to concentrate during the day and not think about Melanie. By the time evening rol ed around, she’d be al I could think about. “I have plans Friday night. How about Thursday around lunchtime?” It was the only time I had available during the day for the rest of the week.

Borel i paused. “I’m completely booked up Thursday during the day. Are you free for dinner?” Inwardly I groaned. I was up against the wire on this. I ran my free hand over my face, forcing myself to agree.

“Thursday night wil work. Where were you thinking?” I asked.

“How about Cushing Gril on Michigan at seven?”

“Okay, I have you down for seven at Cushing Gril .”

“Shane and I’l see you then, Daniel. I’m sure our wives wil be very pleased to meet you as wel .” This time I couldn’t suppress the exasperated sigh. I wasn’t surprised that they’d try to woo me with an expensive dinner, but what I didn’t get was why they thought they needed to bring their wives along. This wasn’t the first time this sort of thing had happened, and it seemed real y inappropriate to me. Did they think that once I met their family and knew a little of their personal life it would somehow sway me? Al I cared about was the cost, the quality, and how fast they could get it done. I considered tel ing him to forget it, but then I’d be right back to square one.

“Fine, I’l see you Thursday.”

Frustrated, I slammed my phone down. Now I’d have to find somebody to go with me, and I had no idea where to start. I thought about asking Lisa, but knew her husband wouldn’t be the only one who thought it was weird.

And I didn’t date.