The Doctor's Memories (BWWM Pregnancy Romance) (6 page)

Chapter 10

Nick entered ICU where his mother was attached to various monitors. He felt as if he had been through a washing machine and dryer. His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and his body was exhausted, the recent flights having played havoc on it, and he wanted nothing than to go sleep for a week. The jet lag was killing him.

“Mother.”

Cecily Duvall cracked open her eyes. “Nick, you are here.”

“Yeah, the Doc says you should be out of here in a little while if you keep on progressing the way you have been doing.”

“I heard you had found her again.”

“Selena? Yes, I have. We need to talk about that when you are better.”

“No. What your father and I did was wrong. We thought, at the time, that she was wrong for you, that we knew better, and that is why we did what we did. We bought her father off, and in so doing, we sold your happiness, and I am so sorry about it, son.”

Nick squeezed his mother’s frail hand. “It’s over. Okay? You just get better. I don’t want to lose you.”

Cecily closed her eyes, and slept.

                                                                                     ***

Selena was woken up by a pounding sound. Squinting, she looked at her clock on the bedside table. It was just before 9 a.m. “Why do people bother you so early in the morning when you work at night?” she asked it, as if it could answer her back. The pounding started up again. “Hold on I’m coming!” Sliding out of bed, she donned her robe and made her way to the door, tying the belt as she faced the delivery man in front of her. “Can I help you?”

“Got some packages to deliver. Please sign here.” He stuck a handful of pages and a pen in her direction while turning to pick up something in the hallway. Without batting a lid at her state of undress, he walked past her and put them down, before going out to fetch a huge easel which he balanced against a wall. “Ma’am, if you could sign please, I have more stops to make.”

“But I…”

“Please ma’am. You are Selena Montclair? These are for you and I need to go.”

Selena signed and closed the door behind him, staring at the brown paper the parcels were wrapped in. There was a note stuck to the easel, she noticed. She opened it.

Selena,

It’s not over until it is over, and as for me, that’s nowhere soon. My mother is out of ICU and will be alright, but I want to be close to her so as to keep an eye on her. Take my absence as a reprieve, if you will, but keep in mind that I will be seeing you again, soon.

I thought you might like playing around with the paint and things. I hope everything you might need is included; I asked them to send everything an artist would need.

Yours,

Nick

Selena sat down with the note in his hand and stared at the parcels. ‘
He bought me art supplies? Seriously?’

She stuck it all under the kitchen counter, except for the easel, which she ended up leaving where it was, and went back to bed.

***

It was three days later that Selena finally opened her presents. The easel she placed in front of her living room window, with one of the canvasses on top of it. Then she tackled the package which she knew would hold the paints and brushes. She was not disappointed. Everything she could possible need was included. She took up the palette and squeezed some paint onto it. Standing in front of the easel, she dipped a brush, mixed some paint, and started applying brush strokes to the canvas. She was soon engrossed, oblivious to her surroundings, as a face slowly started taking form in front of her.

It was as she was painting the eyes, that the first memory hit her. A younger version of those same eyes had once looked at her laughingly, grabbed hold of her and swung her around before lowering her to the floor and kissing her soundly. Then another memory came flooding in. A strong hand gripping hers as they walked down a beach with gulls swooping overhead. And then there was another. They came faster and faster, as if they were images that were flashing on a screen, and her brush strokes became frenzied, stopping only now and then as she mixed some paint on the palette before resuming her onslaught on the canvas. Soon, the tears were dripping down her cheeks, but Selena carried on, driven to remember as she was driven to complete what she had started out doing as an experiment.

At last, gasping, she flung herself away and sat down on the stool she had placed in front of the easel earlier. The face was Nick’s, albeit a younger version, without the small crow’s feet at the sides of his eyes. He looked relaxed, happy, and his eyes were smiling.

“I remember you! I remember me! I remember it all!”

Selena danced around her apartment to some tune playing on the radio, even taking up her hairbrush and singing into it as she went. Once the preliminary euphoria had worn off, however, she remembered the accident, remembered the fight she’d had with her father, her determination to contact Nick using a pay phone, as her father had taken her cell from her, her rush to get to the drug store, the sudden sickening squeal of tires, and waking up in the hospital, unaware of who she was or the child she had lost.

Selena wept, mourning the child she never had a chance to know, the life she had lost, but most of all, she mourned for herself and Nick, for the life they could have had and had lost. “Oh, Nicky!” she whispered brokenly, “I need you.”

As she washed her face, she looked up, staring into her own eyes. “You stupid woman! What are you waiting for?”

Grabbing a towel and running to the phone while she wiped her face, she dialed and spoke into the phone briefly, before throwing a few things into a carryall. She gave her apartment a once-over before locking the door behind her.

***

Many hours and two flights later, an exhausted Selena found herself at the door of Nick’s apartment. Checking her watch, she realized he would still be at the hospital and sat down with her back against the door to wait. She closed her eyes for a few minutes, intending to text him as soon as she gave them a little rest. The text was never sent.

“Selena? Is that you?”

“Hmm…”

“Selena, baby, wake up. What are you doing here?”

She woke to the sound of the voice from her dreams and a warm hand on her shoulder.

“Nicky?”

The hand swiftly withdrew and there was a sharp intake of breath. “Selena…”

Propping herself against the door, she slowly rose, keeping the steadiness of its wood surface at her back. She lifted her head and looked Nick steadily in the eyes. “Hello. Nicky, have you missed me?”

“You called me Nicky!”

Selena nodded. “I did. Can we go inside before someone comes along? I can’t believe I passed out in front of you door like that, but I am dead tired, haven’t had much sleep since I started painting, and I could really use your bathroom, and I am hungry, and…”

Nick cut off anything else she might have said by grabbing her to him and kissing her soundly. Her arms were around him immediately, pulling him closer. Selena kissed him as if her life and soul depended on it.

“I really think we need to get inside, don’t you?” Nick fumbled in his jacket pocket for his keys.

“I said so already, didn’t I? You don’t listen, do you? You need to pay attention, Mr. Duvall.”

Standing aside, he let her enter before him. “I always pay attention.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You called me Nicky, Selena. I never told you that. How come you called me Nicky and what are you doing here? I thought you wanted things to be over? And how come you are covered in paint smears?”

“Oh Nicky! So many questions! Can I have a shower, do you think? I feel grungy, and then I’ll answer anything you want to know. And yes, so by the way, I have my memory back, Nickster-boy!”

Nick groaned. “That’s one pet name I hoped you would never remember again. Yeah go have a shower while I rustle up some food. You look a mess. And you are dirty!”

Selena stuck out her tongue and went to his bedroom, filched a T-shirt from his cupboard and got into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the lies that had filled her life for the past number of years. She found him in the kitchen, shirt unbuttoned to the waist, frying bacon and scrambling eggs.

He gave her an appraising look. ”My cooking skills are still limited. Bacon and eggs for supper alright?”

“Sounds like heaven!” She sat down on a bar stool, while he cooked.

“So what happened, babe? Are we an item? Are you staying? Are there still parts that you can’t remember?”

“Whoa Nick. I believe I remember everything. And it is thanks to you, actually. Your present did the trick. It took me a few days to work up the courage to actually open it and paint, but when I did, I couldn’t stop. I had to finish. And the memories started slipping in, one by one, until it was like a flood. It hit me pretty hard, I have to admit, but I let it wash over me. But the most important ones, Nicky, were of you. Our times together. Everything. It all just came crashing back like a huge wave. I don’t have the words to describe it, really. And then I realized I needed you, to be with you, around you, smell you, touch you…”

Nick took the pans off the stove top and switched off the dials, turned around, and looked at her.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why, Selena, do you need me, want to be with me, around me, smell me, touch me, etc.?”

“Because, Nicholas Duvall, I love you. Always have, and always will. That is why. Even when I didn’t consciously recognize you, I think I loved you. Is that a good enough reason?”

Nick took the few steps between them and put his hands under his shirt, around her tiny waist and promptly lifted her into the air, twirling them both around in circles. “That, my girl, is the only reason that matters!”

He let her down slowly, his shirt riding up her front so that it bunched under her arms, and it was hastily discarded. “You always look better stark naked, Selena! You were made to be loved, by me!”

“Then show me?”

“Oh I intend to do just that, my girl, for the rest of my life, if you want me?”

“I want you, Nicky. Forever and always!”

Prologue

Seven months later Selena slowly walked down the aisle, her wedding dress, with its A-line cut and Grecian style bodice, softly accentuating her slightly raised belly, while her hair, which had been curled, hung over one shoulder, exposing the side of her elegant neck. She had never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment in her magenta wedding dress.

“You are gorgeous, sweetheart,” her groom whispered as he placed a kiss in her nape.

“Thank you, you don’t look too shabby yourself.”

The minister started the usual service. When it came to Selena’s turn to say her vows, she looked Nick straight in the eye, threw her posy into the crowd, twined her arms around his neck, gave him a smacking kiss on the lips, and proclaimed “I do!” much to the delight of those attending.

“She gets it from me,” her mother told Cecily Duvall, who smiled at her new daughter’s antics.

“I am glad they have forgiven us our mistakes. I think the two of us are going to be great friends.”

“Honey,” Selena’s mother replied, “we can take turns at babysitting!”

The End