Chapter 7: Dr. Grant: Chapter 7

“It was so awkward. I’m still not over it. Couldn’t you have warned me that he’s really hot?” I say, clutching my phone tightly between my shoulder and my ear as I try to maneuver my way through the crowds on campus with a stack of heavy books in my arms. Leia has been trying to get me to talk about my visit at the doctor’s office all week now, and she’s finally worn me down.

“Hot? He’s middle-aged and balding. To each their own, of course… but I didn’t think he was hot at all.”

I frown, confused. “Dr. Grant can’t be middle-aged. He’s in his thirties, I guess? Definitely not bald. He’s got thick dark hair,” I tell her, remembering the way I imagined myself running my hands through it.

Leia falls silent. “Grant? I don’t think that was his name. The campus doc had some basic name. Something like Williams? Interesting… I guess the doctor you saw was new then.”

“Must have been,” I murmur, my thoughts on Dr. Grant. He’s gotta be the most handsome man I’ve ever met. I’d definitely have noticed him on campus at some point in the last couple of years.

“You should go back to his office. He said you shouldn’t test things without medical supervision, right? Just take one of your toys back to his office and see how he reacts.”

I roll my eyes. “Hell no. I can’t ever face him again. Leia, it was so humiliating. I came on the man’s hand, while he was trying to do his job.”

“Was he wearing a wedding ring?”

I chuckle and shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “No. He wasn’t.”

“Good. Then I don’t see the problem. This could be the start of an amazing love story, Amara.”

I burst out laughing and almost lose grip of one of my books. “More like a bad porno. I can’t even imagine how awkward it must’ve been for him. I don’t even want to know what he thinks of me now. He must think I’m some sort of freak. I’m so embarrassed, Leia.”

I hoist my books up, trying to balance them as I make my way to my car. “Fuck,” I whisper-shout as my gaze lands on the entrance of the campus convenience store.

“What?” Leia responds.

“Ley, it’s him. I swear, it’s him. Walking out of the convenience store right now. What do I do? I have to hide.”

“Oh shit. Seriously? Okay, act natural. Don’t be weird.”

Dr. Grant’s eyes meet mine, and I turn straight around, turning my back to him. “Why did I do that?” I say more to myself than to Leia.

“Damn it. What did you do?” Leia asks, her tone apprehensive.

“I should’ve just said hi or nodded. Shit. I just turned around. Literally just u-turned the second my eyes met his. Why am I like this?”

Leia bursts out laughing, and I clutch my phone tightly as my cheeks heat. I can’t face Dr. Grant now. I bet I look like a ripe tomato with my red hair and my blazing cheeks.

“Why are you like this? For someone so beautiful you really are awkward as fuck.”

I try to glance back as subtly as I can, only to find Dr. Grant still staring at me, a wide grin on his face. He takes a step toward me and I almost drop my phone.

“Shit. He’s heading this way. I need to go. Love you, bye!” I whisper-shout into my phone as I end the call.

I’m about to lock my phone and throw it in my bag when it buzzes again. I click the message open without thinking, assuming it’s Leia sending me some terrible advice… but it’s not. The message is from a number I don’t recognize, yet I instantly know who it is.

I stop in my tracks, my books falling to the floor as the world around me fades away. My heart beats so loudly that I’m certain I can hear it. I grip my phone tightly, trying my best to push aside the nausea and panic that’s slowly overtaking me.

How dare he? How dare he text me now? After all these years, he messages me as though he didn’t destroy our family, leaving tattered lives in his wake.

Hi, Ami. I’ve typed this text and deleted it over a hundred times, because I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know if you want to hear from me at all, but I miss you. I miss my little girl. Not a single day has gone by without me thinking of you, and I would really love to see you, even if it’s only once. Love, Dad.

See me? He wants to see me? After what he did? The mere thought of him sickens me. That man… he’s a monster.

I inhale shakily, trying my hardest to ground myself, to keep the panic at bay. Despite my best efforts, my throat closes up and my breathing gets shallower by the second. It becomes difficult to inhale fully, and fear grips me. I clutch at my throat and try to blink the tears away, but that doesn’t help silence the need to run, to escape the memories that assail me. I take a step forward and stumble over the books at my feet, my knees hitting the floor before I can brace myself.

Tears start to run down my cheeks in earnest, and through them I can see the redness of my bloodied scraped knees as I reposition myself on the cold street. I don’t feel the pain, though. No, it’s just an excuse to let go of the heartache keeping me captive.

A sob tears through my throat and I pull my knees up to my chest, welcoming the sharp pain that comes with the movement. I can’t tell whether it helps dull the pain in my chest or adds to it, but I lose myself in it nonetheless.

I haven’t seen my father in over fifteen years. I haven’t heard from him, and the mere mention of him brings my mother intense agony. How could he? How could he reappear now after all the damage he’s done?

I try my best to inhale, to calm myself, but I’m lost in a downward spiral of memories and heartache, and all I manage to do is choke on another sob. Helplessness overcomes me, and I hate myself for it. I hate how weak I am. I hate that I can’t even control my own body.

“Step aside! I’m a doctor.”

His voice cuts through the overwhelming noise, and it isn’t until then that I realize that I’m surrounded by people, some of them asking me if I’m okay while two girls kneel beside me.

“Amara,” he says, and my eyes meet his. His gold-specked brown eyes hold a reassuring gaze, and I know right there and then that I’m going to be fine.

Dr. Grant kneels on the ground in front of me and pushes my hair out of my face before cupping my cheeks. “Look at me,” he orders, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ve got you, okay? Don’t look at the blood. Your scrapes are superficial. You’re okay, but you’re having a panic attack. Breathe with me, Amara.”

I nod and follow his instructions, my eyes never leaving his. It only takes him a few minutes to calm me down, to hand me back control over my body. The second I’m able to take a full deep breath, I almost burst into tears all over again, from relief this time.

“See,” he says, “you’re fine.”

I nod, and he smiles at me as he places one arm underneath my knees while his other arm wraps around me. Before I realize what he’s doing, he lifts me off the floor as though I weigh nothing.

“Grab her stuff,” he barks out, and a wide-eyed woman in a nurse’s uniform jumps into action, bending down to gather my things. Dr. Grant doesn’t wait for her. Instead, he walks toward his clinic, keeping me in his embrace.

“I can walk,” I whisper.

“I know you can,” he says, glancing down at me. “But you’re injured, and I’d like to examine you before I let you get on your feet.”

I stare at him as he carries me to his office, holding me securely. I take in his chiseled jaw, the small amount of stubble, and his messy hair. He isn’t wearing his white doctor’s coat today, and somehow, he looks even more handsome in the white dress shirt he’s wearing. Something about him puts me at ease, yet has my heart racing at the same time. It’s a jarring feeling. I can’t remember the last time I felt this safe, this taken care of… yet I’m also nervous.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He looks down at me and smiles. “Don’t thank me just yet. I’m going to disinfect your wounds, and when I do, I doubt you’ll be very happy with me.”

Happy, huh… I don’t know what happiness feels like, but I suspect it’s a little bit like the way he’s making me feel right now, and that feeling is dangerous.