The Ultimate Betrayal (4 page)

“Baby, I know this isn't what you were expecting to happen, especially not right now,” he said, “but it is what it is. So please let me see you. Let me hold you and show you that nothing's changed between us. Let me show you how much I still love you.”

“Levi, no! Please stop all this nonsense. What we had is over. It's done, and I can't talk to you anymore. I can never see you again.”

“You don't mean that. I know you think you do, but you really don't. Your mind is telling you one thing, but deep down, you know where your heart is. You wanna be with me as badly as I wanna be with you.”

“Did you hear what I just said?”

“I heard you loudly and clearly. But before we hang up, just answer one question. Does your ex make love to you the way I did? When the two of you are together, do you wish time would stop so that you never have to spend a single minute without him? Because that's how it always was with you and me. It was never just about our physical attraction. We were good together in every way imaginable. Remember?”

“Levi, I can't do this with you. I'm hanging up, and if you care anything about me you'll never call me again. You won't send me messages, you won't send me anything. You'll just leave me alone.”

“Sweetheart, you can't pretend I don't exist and that you're not in love with me.”

“Good-bye, Levi.”

Alicia pressed the End button on her phone, threw it on her desk, and covered her face with her hands.

She held back her tears for as long as she could, then wept uncontrollably.

B
eing a nurse practitioner was a dream come true for Melanie, and she thanked God for giving her a gift and purpose that allowed her to help people. For as long as she could remember she'd wanted to be a registered nurse, but as a child, she'd never heard of a nurse who could see patients on her own and write prescriptions. There was a time right after her first four years of college when she'd considered becoming an anesthesiologist, but once she'd discovered that she could move up a lot higher in the nursing field, she'd been thrilled. She'd wanted to be hands-on with patients, where she could offer genuine compassion and more personal attention, and being an internal medicine NP gave her that opportunity. She also loved the two physicians she worked with, as they were extremely knowledgeable, were thorough with their examinations and diagnoses, and they never talked down to her or to the patients who came to see them. Melanie remembered how back when she'd been interviewing for various positions, this had been very important to her. She'd wanted to make sure she had a pleasant rapport with both doctors and other staff members, and this particular group of folks gave her that.

Melanie thumbed through a few charts, and while she hadn't thought much about it, she still wasn't hungry. It was midmorning, and if she could make it to noon without feeling famished, she would have it made. Before leaving home, she'd drunk her dark-chocolate protein shake as planned, and then she'd downed a couple of bottles of water there at work. She wasn't picky when it came to specific shake flavors, but the reason she loved and stuck with dark chocolate was because it was rich in taste, and it seemed thicker. This was likely the reason it sometimes gave her a full feeling for four to six hours.

Although, maybe another reason she wasn't as hungry was because of how sick she'd made herself last night from eating that torturous array of junk food. She'd been so uncomfortable that she'd had to take not just one or two but three laxative pills, and by four a.m., she'd found herself in the bathroom three separate times. The good news, however, was that she'd felt relieved, and she definitely hadn't felt as sick as she had before going to bed. Not that it would matter whether she felt sick or hungry anyway, because this time, she was determined to lose the weight she needed to. She was only two years shy of her thirtieth birthday, and there was no way she was turning the big 3-0 looking disgraceful.

Melanie read through a few more documents, and for some reason, Brad and his savings account crossed her mind. She'd tried her best not to think about it because what was done was done, but it was hard to let it go. Especially since, in the back of her mind, she wondered if he would risk losing thousands again. He'd sworn he was finished for good, but Melanie wasn't so sure. She also hoped there wasn't anything else going on, because something didn't feel right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but this kind of behavior was completely out of the ordinary for Brad. She'd thought the same thing last year, but she'd told herself that while she didn't understand it, everyone made mistakes from time to time. However, now that he'd lost more money, it worried her.

She tossed a few thoughts through her mind and refocused on her work. She had a 10:45 appointment, and she was sure that by now, Amber, her medical assistant, had brought Mrs. Weston into the examination room, taken her blood pressure and pulse, and reviewed her current medication listing.

Melanie grabbed her starched pure-white lab coat from the back of her office door and slipped it on. Under it, she wore a white long-sleeve button-down shirt with a pair of navy dress pants, and all she could think of was how proud her mother would be. When Melanie had first started in her position, she'd mostly worn khakis under her lab coat, but when her mother had found out, she'd had a fit. She'd complained about it not being professional enough for someone who had earned the right to wear dress pants and dresses to work, so Melanie had finally stopped wearing anything that she knew her mother wouldn't like. In all honesty, Melanie couldn't have cared less about such pettiness, because it was her patients and their health that she cared about more.

She was also ashamed of the fact that she still allowed her mother to dictate so much of what she did or didn't do, and she just wished she hadn't always wanted her mother's approval so badly. Melanie knew she was an adult and that no one should live his or her life based on what others said or thought, but it had always been like this for her when it came to her mother. She feared that it always would be, and now she wished she didn't have to see her today. Her mom had called bright and early this morning, insisting they meet for lunch, and while Melanie loved her mother, she wasn't looking forward to hearing her usual questions. “When are you and Brad going to give me a grandchild? Are you eating the right foods? Are you working out at least six days per week?” It was always such a chore, and Melanie could barely wait for their visit to be over.

She walked down the corridor and saw Amber exiting and closing an examination room door.

“She's in rare form today,” Amber whispered, “so I hope you're ready.”

Melanie shook her head and smiled. She wasn't surprised to hear this at all, since this had been the norm for Mrs. Weston for a while.

Now that everything was electronic, Melanie no longer had to read through a patient's physical chart beforehand. So she walked into the examination room.

“Good morning, Mrs. Weston,” Melanie said, sitting down in front of the small desk and slightly adjacent to the woman.

“I don't see what's all that good about it, but maybe it's a great day for you,” her patient said. “So good morning.”

Melanie smiled at Mrs. Weston and signed on to the computer system. She read a few lines of disturbing information but kept a straight face. Mrs. Weston had never been small, but as of today, she weighed 322 pounds. And she was only five feet, five inches tall.

“So what seems to be the problem?” Melanie asked.

“I woke up with a terrible headache and called to see if I could get an appointment with Dr. Lambert. They told me he was booked solid and that he wanted me to come see you.”

“Well, I'm glad he did. It looks like your blood pressure is quite on the high side. One-seventy over a hundred. And your resting pulse isn't as low as I'd like to see it, either.”

“I'm sure all I need is some different medication.”

“I'd like to take your blood pressure again,” Melanie said, pulling the blood pressure cuff away from the wall and wrapping it around Mrs. Weston's arm. “Sometimes your pressure can be a little high just from having to come to our office.”

Mrs. Weston didn't say anything, but Melanie could tell from the slight frown on her face that she didn't think another blood pressure check was necessary.

Melanie placed her stethoscope in her ears and pumped the blood pressure cuff. She soon heard the first beat and then finally the last. “It's still about the same. One-seventy-two over ninety-eight.”

“So which medication are you going to change?” Mrs. Weston asked matter-of-factly.

“I first want to do a more thorough examination, and then we'll go from there.”

Melanie asked Mrs. Weston to sit on the examination table, and while she would have liked to ask her to remove her clothing and put on a patient gown, she knew Mrs. Weston would complain. So Melanie went ahead and checked her heart, breathing pattern, thyroid area, and circulation.

“Everything seems to be okay overall, and I believe part of the reason your blood pressure has escalated is because you've gained about twenty pounds since the last time we saw you. I know losing weight isn't easy—believe me, I know—but it really is important for you to think more about it. Especially since you have both hypertension and diabetes.”

“You know it isn't easy? How could you know
anything
about that?” Her tone was curt.

“I was severely overweight as a child, and I've struggled with weight my entire life. The key is to eat better and to get more exercise. I also think it would help if we refer you to a nutritionist.”

Mrs. Weston sighed in a huff. “Look, I'm sure you mean well, but I'm too tired and too old to make all these changes. It's too late for all that. Which is why I told you from the beginning that what I need is some different medication. Something stronger and better than what Dr. Lambert has me on now.”

Mrs. Weston was only sixty-five, so she was far from being too old to start a healthy diet or take a walk on the bike path. Still, Melanie knew her suggestions were a lost cause, so she didn't push the idea any further. Had she not said anything, though, she wouldn't have been doing her job, not to mention that she truly wanted Mrs. Weston to feel better.

“For now, I'm going to increase the dosage of your water pill and have you take it twice a day. You'll continue taking your other two blood pressure pills as usual, and then I'd like you to come back a week from today for another check.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mrs. Weston said with a softer tone. Melanie was glad she'd calmed down, but she hated that it was only because she was getting more medication. She just wished Mrs. Weston and some of her other patients would realize how much medication they would no longer have to take if they took better care of themselves.

After Melanie typed the prescription into the computer and transmitted it over to Mrs. Weston's pharmacy, Mrs. Weston thanked her and left. Melanie now felt a little hungry, but after seeing how miserable one of her own patients was because of weight issues, she almost didn't want to have a salad. Nonetheless, since she'd promised her mom she would meet her for lunch, she didn't have much choice. It wasn't like Gladys Johnson would take no for an answer, anyway.

S
o what time do you think you'll be home?” Melanie asked Brad while driving her BMW SUV into the restaurant's parking lot.

“Hopefully, not past eight. But you know how it is when the partners get together for dinner. Plus, we really need to spend some time discussing this case we're going after. It's worth millions.”

Melanie turned off the ignition. “Well, I'm here, so I guess I'll see you tonight.”

“Enjoy your lunch.”

“I'll try.”

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you, too.”

Melanie dropped her phone in her handbag and checked her lipstick. Normally, she wasn't all that happy when Brad had dinner meetings, because he was already spending a lot of hours at the office. Today, however, she was relieved, because with Brad eating out, she'd be able to drink her protein shake for dinner as planned.

Melanie got out of her car and walked toward the building. She loved Gino's, which had the best Italian food ever. It was too bad she wouldn't be able to eat some of her favorite dishes.

When she walked inside, her mother smiled and Melanie couldn't help noticing what looked like a new pantsuit she was wearing. Her mom had never worked much and had mostly been a housewife, but she bought whatever she wanted as if she were rich. Melanie's father earned a good living as a distribution center supervisor, but they certainly weren't wealthy. Her mother had always made it clear, though, that a wife deserved to have some of the things she wanted—whether her husband could afford them or not.

Gladys scanned Melanie's body from head to toe.

“You look tired. How many hours are you working?”

“Wow, thanks a lot, Mom. It's good to see you, too.”

“Girl, give your mother a hug.”

Melanie embraced her, and soon after, the young hostess escorted them to their booth.

“Trisha will be your waitress today, and she'll be here shortly.”

Gladys smiled. “Thank you.”

Melanie pushed her purse closer to the wall and rested her elbows on the table.

Gladys leaned back and relaxed. “You look a lot more professional today. So much better than you normally do.”

Melanie kept silent, her face stoic.

“I'm glad you finally went out and bought some proper attire,” her mother continued.

“Well, it's not like I got rid of my khakis, Mom. And if I wake up some morning wanting to wear them, it won't change the way I do my job.”

Gladys waved her off. “Whatever, Mel. I'm only trying to tell you what I think is best. Specifically for your career. You could also stand to color your hair.”

“Why? I don't have any gray strands.”

“Yeah, but a softer brown would look so much better on you.”

“Black is the color God gave me.”

Gladys shook her head. “There's just no talking to you, is there?”

Their waitress walked up to the table. She was a petite woman with a pleasant smile. “Hi, I'm Trisha. And how are you ladies this afternoon?”

“Doing wonderfully,” Gladys said.

“Fine, thank you,” Melanie added.

“Glad to hear it. Can I get you something to drink?”

“We'll both have water,” Gladys said.

There were times when Melanie's mother made her want to scream. It was bad enough that she tried to control everything, but deciding for Melanie what she would be drinking? It was so uncalled for. Melanie had planned to order water anyway, but it was simply the principle of the whole thing.

“Great. Also, just so you know, we have two specials today. The first is a rib-eye steak with garlic mashed potatoes. The other is our mushroom ravioli with white sauce. You also get a choice of salad with either of those.”

Gladys scanned the menu. “Hmmm. I think I'll have the mushroom ravioli with a house salad. And if you would, please replace your house dressing with a low-fat vinaigrette.”

“Will do. And you?” the waitress asked Melanie.

“I'll have your house salad as well.”

“Will that be it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Sounds good. I'll get this ordered for you, she said, walking away”

“So,” Gladys said, “when are you and Brad going to give me my grandbaby?”

Melanie sighed. There it was.

“Mom, why do you always ask me that?”

“Because you're not getting any younger. Neither am I, for that matter.”

“Well, it won't be in the near future.”

“Why not?”

“We want to make sure we're ready.”

“How much more ready do you need to be?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Fine. How about your workouts? Are you still getting one in at least six days a week?”

“Yes.”

“And eating healthy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”

“Yes, but why do you ask me these same questions all the time?”

“Because they're important. I know this is a tough subject for you, but I also don't want you forgetting how heavy you used to be. Brad is a top attorney in this city, and the last thing you need is to go losing him. Appearances mean everything; I've always taught you that. You have a responsibility to keep yourself up.”

The waitress set two glasses of water on the table and walked away.

Melanie drank some of hers and looked over at a few of the other customers.

“I'm sorry that you don't like hearing this, but if you want to know the truth, the reason I asked you about your workouts today is because you're looking like a size ten again.”

Melanie stared at her mother, wondering why she hadn't taken a rain check on lunch after all. Her mother did this kind of thing all the time, and Melanie wished that for once, Gladys would realize how bad she always made Melanie feel, particularly about herself and the way she looked. Her mother and her father had both been guilty of this when she was younger, but her mother's comments had always been the harshest and the most frequent. For whatever reason, during Melanie's teen years, her father had just up and stopped teasing her about her weight, but all that had seemed to do was make her mother worse. She'd said some downright hurtful things to Melanie, and Melanie would never forget them. Her mom, of course, had always eaten very little, and though she wasn't much shorter than Melanie, she'd never weighed more than 150 pounds. She was fifty-two but worked out more intensely than most thirty-year-olds. She also ate healthily seven days a week without fail. That was, with the exception of days like today when she went out to a restaurant, enjoying and eating something “special” like the ravioli she'd ordered. Even with that, however, Melanie could guarantee that her mom would only be eating half of it. And Melanie saw nothing wrong with that. Actually, she was glad her mom took such good care of herself, but she still didn't want her nitpicking about everything she could think of, judging and condemning Melanie every time she saw her.

“I guess you don't have anything to say,” her mother said.

“Not really.”

“Well, I hope you hear me, because it also doesn't look good for a nurse practitioner, of all people, to be overweight. That's no different than being a hairstylist who walks around with her hair looking a mess. Or being a dentist with crooked teeth. It sends the wrong message to clients, and in your case, to your patients.”

“Mom, not everyone can be as perfect as you. I wish I could be, but I can't.”

“I'm
not
perfect. But I try to get as close to being perfect as I can. For example, when I asked our waitress to bring me low-fat dressing, you never said a word. Even though you should have asked for the same thing.”

Melanie raised her eyebrows. “That's because I focus more on watching my carbs than I do on fat content. It's sugar that's keeping most people overweight.”

“I agree. But for salad dressing, I prefer fat-free.”

Melanie didn't bother arguing with her, and for the rest of their time together, she went along with whatever her mother said just to keep the peace. As of late, this was usually how things went during their visits.

Thankfully, time passed more quickly than Melanie had anticipated, and soon they were outside the restaurant, walking to their respective vehicles. But as Melanie prepared to head back to her office, she couldn't help replaying her mom's words: “…you're looking like a size ten again.” This, of course, wasn't news to Melanie, and it was the reason she'd resorted to her latest diet. But after hearing her mother sound so disappointed in her, she felt like eliminating all solid food, including salads, and having only three shakes a day. She wasn't sure her body could withstand something so restrictive, but one way or the other, she was going to lose all this extra weight she was carrying around. Period.