Free The Cold Beneath by Tonia Brown Page B

drove her to take me on as a patient, even though I had made it clear at the onset that I disapproved. Or maybe the tension between us had distended like a boil craving to be lanced. Either way, a month into the journey I showed up for my weekly physical, but instead of my usual male medical student, she was waiting for me.
    “I would much rather see one of the men,” I insisted when I discovered the change in routine.
    “And I would rather you stop blubbering about it,” she said. She patted the gurney, encouraging me to sit down so she could commence her work.
    “I am not blubbering. I just don’t think it’s appropriate. You’re … well, a woman.”
    She smiled, amused by my discomfort. “I’m also a doctor. Now stop being a child and sit down. I have four more after you, and I’m already behind.”
    “Then get to your other four. I can wait.”
    Without warning, Geraldine pulled me to her, then pushed me onto the gurney, ignoring my plea. “You have done nothing but complain ever since you arrived. Now hold still and let me listen to your chest.”
    I withstood her inspection, which turned out to be much less involved than those undertaken by the male students, and I winced as she administered the dreaded shot. Rubbing the site of the injection, I asked something that had been bothering me since I signed on. “Why the use of a needle?”
    She eyed me but didn’t answer.
    “Why not pills?” I asked. “Vitamins come in pills. Herbs can be encapsulated.”
    “Not these vitamins,” she said.
    “Then what kind are they? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
    “They are …” she said, hesitating before she decided on, “special.”
    I recognized the tone in her voice. “You mean experimental?”
    Her easy smile said she had been caught. “Yes, in a way. I am trying out a very complex mix. I’m hoping it will help us cope with the cold.”
    “Just herbs and vitamins?”
    She blinked a few times, a signal that she didn’t believe what I was asking. “Of course. What else would it be?”
    I snorted as I rolled my sleeves down again. “With you? There’s no telling.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “It means you’ve lied to me before.” I regretted it as soon as I said it. I didn’t want to do this, not now, not ever. Yet it was too late. The words were out.
    She gasped, her hand fluttering over her chest in some mockery of surprise. “Lie? I never lied to you.”
    “Then am I to believe that you loved both Elijah and myself at the same time? Or should I believe that you married a man you didn’t love while your heart remained true to me the whole while? Is that it?”
    “I did love you,” she said, almost in a whisper. “You have to believe that.”
    “Oh really. And did you pine for me the last ten years while I rotted away in the shadow of your defection? Did you? Of course not! You enjoyed being the wife of a successful bio-mechanic while I lost everything. Everything!”
    Tears stood in her eyes as she stared at me. Why should she be the one to cry? I was the one who was left with a broken heart and a ruined name. But there she was, in the small room that served as her office, on the verge of tears.
    “Philip,” she started, but before she could give me what for, there was a light knock at the door.
    “Is there a problem?” Lightbridge asked as he peeped into the room.
    Geraldine wiped away her worry, sniffling as quietly as she could manage. The performance was cloying, but I had the sensation that I was the only one who thought as much. “Give us a moment; I was just finishing up.”
    “I’ll be out here if you should need me.” He ducked into the hallway, leaving us alone.
    In the silence, I finished dressing, wondering what I could say, or rather if I wanted to say anything at all. Before I left, I settled on a contrite air, but a removed one. “I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn.”
    From behind her desk, she gave a wordless nod.
    I met Lightbridge in the