The Alphabet of Love Ch. 06

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Trevor makes a difficult choice, filling Shiloh with doubts.
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Part 6 of the 24 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 08/16/2017
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We stood at my front door, kissing. "You'd better go," I urged him.

"I don't wanna," he whined, kissing me again.

"Call me later."

"I'll think about it," he teased me.

"Love 'em and leave 'em, is that how it is?"

He nodded. "Yup. I got what I wanted. I'll never see you again."

He was teasing. I hoped. He saw the doubt in my eyes and took me into his arms. "I'll call you tonight, I promise. I'll be thinking about you all day."

"So will I."

He kissed me again, and was gone.

When I turned back toward the living room, there was Faldo, on his window ledge, glaring at me.

I had difficulty keeping my mind on work all morning. The patients today were all my established cases; I enjoyed talking with them, going over their lab work, discussing diet, dialysis, potential transplantation. Some had not yet started dialysis so we worked on maintaining their renal function for as long as possible. In every idle moment, though, the memory of Trevor's hands on me, his kisses, his tenderness - overwhelmed me, made me shudder. I hadn't just been fucked - I'd been loved, adored. And now I was so, so sorry I'd allowed it to happen because he had a wife, and the likelihood of keeping him as my lover was slim to none. Oh I know, he talked about divorcing her, but she worked for his father. His father, a possible President of the United States. This was not just some family business. If Trevor got a divorce, it would interfere with his father's bid for the White House. He had to tread very carefully.

And what about me? I was just stupid. Stupid for letting it happen, for wanting it to happen. Now I'd suffer the consequences by pining after him, constructing elaborate fantasies of a life with him that would never come to pass. The only hope for it was to immerse myself in work. At lunch I scrolled the internet looking at nephrology fellowships and even bookmarked the Doctors Without Borders form for volunteer physicians. If I had to, I'd go to third world countries to assuage my lovelorn heart.

I'd just said goodbye to my first patient of the afternoon, and retired to my office for a few minutes to write up the chart notes. On my desk a colossal spray of flowers filled the room with sweet fragrance and brilliant color. With a shaking hand I took the card and read it.

"I loved waking up with you. TCB."

I struggled not to cry. And wondered what his middle name was.

"Doctor Westland?" came a small voice behind me.

I turned to see MaryLou, one of the receptionists, in my doorway.

"I wasn't sure where to put them, the bouquet is so large," she said apologetically.

"This is fine, thanks," I told her.

She hovered for a moment, no doubt hoping I'd dish on who'd sent the flowers. As far as the clinic staff knew, I hadn't had a beau since fickle Julio skipped off to California and left his obnoxious cat behind.

I waved the card weakly. "They're from a friend," I said.

"Nice," she smiled. "Someone really cares about you." She politely shut the door after herself, and I slunk into my chair.

I texted Trevor a thank you, and appended a photo of the flowers. He should see what he got for his money.

With a sigh I started on the charting before my next appointment. I was about halfway through when my phone chimed.

"Glad you like them," he'd responded to my text. "They aren't as beautiful as you are, though."

My fingers typed before I could stop them. "I'm going to Vegas for Christmas if you want to join me."

"Wish I could," he answered. "I'll either be here or in Boise."

"I know," I typed, pouting to myself.

"Call you tonight."

"Okay."

Sniffling, I hurriedly finished my work and continued my day. I stayed late to finish some notes and make a call to a cardiologist about one of my patients. By the time I walked out to my car, it was nearing six-thirty. TV dinner tonight, I thought ruefully.

I'd just dumped my armload of purse, laptop, and notebooks onto the passenger seat when my phone buzzed in my purse. I fished in my purse for it and was pleasantly surprised to see "Trevor" on the screen.

"Hello," I said brightly.

"Hi, Shiloh," he said, but didn't sound like himself. "Would it be okay if I stop by your place on my way home? It'll be late, after nine or so."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Everything all right?"

"I need to talk to you."

I was getting the old heave-ho already, I thought harshly. "I can have some dinner for you," I offered.

"Don't go to any trouble. I can't stay, as much as I'd like to."

"Oh," was all I said.

Naturally I spent the next few hours running every scenario through my head. It had to be something with his wife, I thought. She'd found out about us. She'd seen our text messages, or something. Smelled me on him. No, wait, he showered before he left here.

I had no idea. I only knew it had to be bad.

I opened wine around eight-thirty and had a glass. Filled out the Doctors Without Borders application online. After all, I'd be free to travel to third world countries.

Trevor showed up about nine-thirty. I wanted to ravish him but settled for a sweet, lingering kiss instead. I offered him wine, but he shook his head.

We sat on the couch and Faldo jumped up beside him, rubbing on his arm, purring. Fucker.

"Amanda came home today," Trevor began, looking distressed. "Don't worry, she doesn't know about us. But she wants me to make a decision. Either get divorced right now or try to work on things. She wants me to find a way to go on the campaign with her."

"You mean - quit your residency?" I asked in disbelief.

"See if I can defer it for a year or so," he nodded.

What woman, what wife, knowing the hard work, dedication, blood, sweat, and tears that he'd put into his medical studies - would ask something like this? I was appalled.

"She's giving you an ultimatum?" I asked him.

He shrugged, not wanting to be so blunt.

"What are you going to do?"

"If we get a divorce now it complicates everything with my Dad's campaign. Ties me and Amanda up in court and shit. She wants us to travel together and see if we can work things out, this would be like our last ditch effort. I'm surprised she really wants to do it."

"Sounds to me like she just wants to keep you close so she knows where you are all the time," I said bitterly.

"Maybe," he allowed. "I think she trusts me. And to be honest I'm not sure she really cares if we stay married or not. I just don't think she wants the scandal of us getting divorced right when Dad is starting to run. The thing that complicates it is that I'm his son, and she's his wife's daughter."

I nodded. "Yeah, I can see that, but I can't think it would be that big of a scandal."

"I don't know. I just - I want to be honest with you. I know we haven't known each other very long, but I really think we could have something together."

"Besides just great sex," I said.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Besides that. I emailed Dr. Gamble about it and I'm waiting to see if I can get in to talk to her."

"You did?" I asked, surprised. "About taking time out of your residency?"

He nodded. "If she says yes, then I guess I'm committed to going on the campaign trail."

"I'm sure it'd be interesting," I allowed. "What would you do?"

"Oh, trust me, Amanda would find work for me."

I couldn't help but see the woman as some sort of mastermind, a taskmaster delegating menial jobs to her underlings.

I wanted to ask him to just divorce the bitch now, get it done and over with. But how could I, on the basis of having known him for less than a month, after one night of sensational lovemaking, demand this of him? He felt the obligation to try to save his marriage, wasn't that honorable? Wasn't I just some stupid whore who'd encouraged him to cheat?

"I'm sorry," he said, so sincere and heartfelt that I couldn't be angry with him.

I let him hold me close.

"I'd like to ask you to wait for me but I can't do that," he said against my hair.

"Because you might decide to stay married," I added.

"I might," he said, "but some miracle would have to happen. I'm mostly doing this for my Dad. The more trustworthy people in his inner circle, the better for him."

"I can accept that better than the idea that you're trying to save your marriage," I said, being frank.

"There isn't going to be anyone but you," he told me, pulling back to look into my eyes. "I'm not after cheap, meaningless relationships. You're one of a kind, you're the woman I can see myself with, having a family and a life."

I wished he hadn't said that. Oh god I wished he hadn't.

I wanted to beat my hands on his chest, beg him to stay. But I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm going to be completely honest with you about everything," he went on. "I'll call you and be in touch. If that's what you want."

"Yes, of course," I said.

He made it sound like Dr. Gamble would just rubber stamp his request for a hiatus from his residency. I wasn't sure it would be that easy.

"I have to go home," he said. "I'm sorry. I'd rather stay."

"I understand," I got up from the couch.

Faldo followed us to the door. We kissed a few times. I let Trevor go, and Faldo looked as sad as I did when I shut the door.

Trevor and I stayed in touch over the next few days via text and phone calls. He got an appointment to see Dr. Gamble, the Program Director for resident surgeons. I wondered what he'd do if she refused him. Would he quit altogether?

The day of his meeting with her, I had to go to the hospital to see two of my patients. One had been there for two days with an infection in her dialysis catheter; the other had just been admitted with a cardiac anomaly. I'd cancelled my remaining office appointments to attend to these more dire cases. Keeping my mind on work proved a challenge, but I was glad for the distraction. I had a talk with the cardiology staff and learned that my patient would probably go home tomorrow on new meds. I reviewed lab work and made notes on the chart detailing my consultation and assessment.

I kept glancing at my phone, which I kept close by, but so far nothing from Trevor. I'd just answered a question from my patient's nurse when the screen lit up with Trevor's name.

"Excuse me, I have to take this," I said to the nurse, who nodded. Important doctor stuff, he no doubt assumed.

"What happened?" I asked, moving away from the nurse's station and down the hall.

"She's not thrilled about it, but I made the case that this is a once in a lifetime thing - how many times does your Dad run for President? She agreed to let me take a hiatus, but she's adding six months to my residency when I get back."

"Ouch," I winced, knowing surgery residencies were already long and grueling. "So when does it start?"

"Now," he said, to my surprise. "I have to get other surgeons to take the cases I'm currently with, and to follow up with my patients, but that should only take a few days."

"Then what? You're leaving town?"

"Well, yes. My Dad's home base is Boise. But he's already traveling around the country, going on those political shows and shit."

I knew this to be true. I'd seen his good-looking father on Meet the Press, and found him intelligent and articulate.

"Amanda's going back to Boise tomorrow and I'll go when this is all wrapped up," he said.

So we might have a few days without her in town, I thought.

"Wow," was all I could muster.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"I'm at the hospital. I've got two patients admitted right now."

"I just finished surgery, talked with the family. I'm going to see the patient in recovery now. You going to be here for awhile?"

"I can be."

"I'll call you when I'm free. Probably an hour or so."

"All right."

With my badge and doctor status, no one looked twice at me when I entered the 'staff only' area behind the surgery theaters. Doctors and nurses milled around, some prepping for surgery, others having just finished up. Trevor sat at a desk in the next room, where surgery details were recorded in the patient's permanent medical record. I pulled up a chair and sat across from him.

"Hi," he smiled up at me. "I'm almost finished."

I sat back, noodling on my phone until he was done.

"Change of plans," he said with a sigh and a smile. "Amanda's going back to Boise tonight instead of tomorrow."

"Oh?" I pretended to not understand the possibilities this scenario presented.

"And I'm done for the day," he went on. "It's only four-forty five. What do you say we go do something together?"

"Like what?" I asked, tossing my head coquettishly.

He grinned. "I'd like to take you to a hotel and order champagne and make love to you all night."

"Well, it is Friday," I nodded. "You're not going to Boise?"

"No, I have rounds in the morning, see how my patients are doing. But I don't have to be here at the buttcrack of dawn. What do you say?"

Ah, here was my chance to stop being a whore. After all, there was now no chance whatsoever of us having a real relationship. He'd be away for a year or more. At least until the election.

He took my hand gently. "I know what you're thinking," he said quietly. "I want one last time with you before I desert you for months. Well, that's true. I hope it won't be the last time, though, since I'll still be here for a few days - but I want to spend as much time with you as I can. But I need to know how you feel, Shiloh. Do you think we're worth working on, worth keeping alive?"

"I'd say yes if you were going to be here," I answered. "But this way? I don't know. You might get away from here and decide your marriage isn't as unsalvageable as you think it is now."

He shook his head. "That won't happen. If anything, this will only strengthen my conviction that it's over. You don't know what Amanda's like when she's on a campaign. She even treats her mother like shit."

"Do you mind if I ask - what did you see in her in the first place? You only talk about her being mean and bitchy and demanding."

He smiled a little. "I met her when she was vulnerable, unsure of herself. She had a lot of confusion about her sexuality. She trusted me not to hurt her. So I've been there for her all along, and it's allowed her to become strong and confident. In a way I might have enabled her to be the way she is. I just let it all roll off my back."

Wow, I thought. That was crazy.

"I should probably have asserted myself more. But I just don't think a man has a right to tell a woman who or what she should be. I know her Mom worries about us and our marriage, and she's probably right to do it. But then, the way she and my Dad are, maybe she's all fucked up, too."

"How are they?" I wanted to know.

"My Dad and Anita? He's got such a strong personality - he's not domineering but he just has this air about him that he knows everything and he's always right. Anita stands up to him. They've had some fights. But she says it makes them stronger, who knows."

"How was he with your Mom?" I asked because this might give me insight to how Trevor approached his relationships.

"She never argued with him. She was kind of like me, just let him be the peacock, you know? Even though she's a gorgeous woman who's always had men looking at her and wanting her. She let Dad be the center of attention because he just naturally attracted it."

"But you said she cheated on him."

He nodded. "She did. With his law partner. Devastated him."

Funny how Trevor was playing out the same story in his own marriage. Letting his partner get away with being a snot, then finding a backhanded way of betraying her. With me.

He shrugged. "I'm tired of it, that's all I can say. I just want to be with someone who's not such - a struggle. Someone who doesn't take everything I say as a challenge or a criticism or an invitation to debate. You know?"

"Yes," I said.

"I know we won't be able to see each other much," he went on. "But I'll call you every day. I promise. I'll text you. And whenever we're in this area or Portland I'll do my damndest to see you."

I thought for a moment, tapping my finger on the desk. "Are you going to be sleeping with her?"

"Well, she's my wife . . . but we don't have sex much anymore. And now? Probably less. She'll be politics from the minute she wakes up until she falls asleep. Which she doesn't do much of. She subsists on like five hours a night. Otherwise she has her nose in her iPad or she's on the phone."

But he hadn't ruled it out completely. Props for honesty, I thought.

He sat back in his chair and gazed at me. "Let me at least take you out to dinner, if you don't want to go to the hotel."

"Which hotel?" I asked, teasing him a little.

"Uh, I guess anywhere you like."

"The Edgewater," I said at once.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Okay," he agreed.

The Edgewater was an icon on the Seattle waterfront, elegant and upscale. I'd been there for a romantic weekend with a visiting nephrologist from Boston when I was a resident myself. He was twenty years older than me and had plenty of cash to show a girl a good time. I could have fallen for him, handsome Dr. Derek Wiley, and I think he could have fallen for me, too, if not for his family and successful work back east. We'd met at a conference or two since then, and rekindled those feelings. I'd spent some sleepless nights over him, admittedly.

It was time to make some new memories at that gorgeous hotel.

With no change of clothes and no thought to the welfare of my ingrate of a pet, Trevor and I took my car and drove to the Edgewater. I offered to put the charge on my card so his wife wouldn't see it on their statement; he waved me off. He said he didn't care what she saw, or what she assumed.

I put that woman out of my mind and savored every moment with Trevor. We enjoyed a sumptuous dinner, drinks, intimate talk. He made me laugh and smile; his gentle kindness was so different from other men I'd known, men who lied to my face and didn't care if they hurt me. Trevor did care. He was wracked with guilt over leaving me, and he still felt guilt over his wife. A good man with a good conscience, I thought. Or that was what I wanted to believe.

The sex was just as good as before, maybe better. I loved his willingness to explore me, not to just fuck me and have it over with. He pleasured me in ways I had never been pleasured, and I gave him the same consideration. Oh, love like this, it was just what I'd hoped all my life to find. Now that I'd found it, it was going to walk out of my life and join a political campaign.

Fuck.

I took him to the hospital in the morning, and visited my patients while he saw his. I got a text message from my friend Isabel in Wenatchee, asking me if anything had ever happened with that 'cute surgeon.' Oh boy. Had it. I'd have to fill her in.

I took Trevor home with me and we had sex all afternoon. Faldo loved that we were there - or that Trevor was there. When we came up for air and I went to make dinner, I heard Trevor in the bedroom talking to my cat, calling him a 'good boy,' loving on him. Faldo hadn't even like Julio that much.

We'd agreed that fried eggs and toast sounded good, so I stood at my stove, minding the eggs, when I felt warm arms around my waist, hands gentle under my breasts. Soft kisses on my neck.

"Christ," I said, turning my head to look at him. "Do you have to do this? It's just going to make it worse when you leave."

"I want you to have good memories until I see you again. And I intend to give you more before I leave."

We kissed a few times.

I burned the eggs.

He laughed as I dumped them out.

We ate toast with jelly and called it good. He would have stayed the night with me, but he was out of clothes at the hospital, and had to make rounds again the next morning. I clung to him, kissed him, sucked his lips, and hated to let him go. All the air left my apartment when I shut the door after him.

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