I beg your forgiveness
And I'll do whatever it takes

I don’t know why I’d called you. It was the night before my wedding and I was in my apartment alone, with nothing but my thoughts. I was too analytical for my own good, my mother used to say. Thinking too hard usually got me into trouble. After having thought way too long about it, I picked up the phone. Something in me was compelled to call just to hear your voice, but when you spoke, the overwhelming desire to see your face became unbearable.

I took a deep breath and slid both hands down the front of my dress, my wedding dress. I was scared half to death staring at my reflection. The Vera Wang strapless, silk bodice should have been perfect. It was perfect. It fit like a glove and accented my shape beautifully, but something didn’t feel right.

As I continued to stare in the mirror, a ball of nausea became lodged in my throat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to push down the ominous dread that settled at the pit of my stomach. I should have been excited to put on my wedding dress and know that in a few hours I was going to marry the man I loved. Up until 6 months ago, I was excited to be getting married even though I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the choice of groom. I’d known Evan since I was a child, and I couldn’t say I particurally cared for him back then either. Our parents had written it in the stars that we were destined to be together, though we both had differing views on everything, including our dynamics has husband and wife. His chauvinistic ideologies had me barefoot and pregnant, a vaccum in one hand and a pot roast in the other. Regardless, the planning portion had me so busy, I barely saw him and I wasn’t complaining.  I was the epitome of a blushing bride. I had no idea how my life would have changed the moment I set foot into that hospital room.

Behind my closed lids I could see, your mother's face, the alabaster skin and bright blue eyes that were trying to stay strong but were slowly waning. 

The day we met, nothing had gone right. I’d been banished to the clinic where I was sure I’d be wasting my time with stitches, flu symptoms and hypochondriacs. I was sure I’d die of sheer boredom that day.

“Kid, you better get the hell outta my face! I won’t be poked and prodded by a pre-schooler,” an angry female voice warned from behind a curtain.

Your mom always was a character. I loved that about her. I had no idea that I’d become accustomed to that tone of voice, quick wit and snarky remarks.

“Ma’am, if you don’t let me check your temperature I can’t—” I recognized Kyle Hamilton’s voice. The kid had only just graduated nursing school 3 months ago. He wasn’t as seasoned as I was, having been an RN for 6 years. He wasn’t used to dealing with people like Lynn, but I knew how to handle uncooperative patients.

“Why don’t you shove that thing up your ass and take your own temperature?” I could just hear the stress in her voice; the agitation coming from a place of fear than actual annoyance for poor Hamilton.

I barely contained a laugh as I pictured fresh-faced Hamilton trying to take the disgruntled woman’s temperature.

I pulled the curtain back and watched both patrons turn toward me and just as I thought, poor Hamilton stood stunned with a ditigal thermometer in hand and uncertainty in his eyes. He visibly relaxed when he spotted me.

“What’s going on?”

“Thank, God. Someone I can trust,” Lynn sighed in relief. “Since when did this hospital start employing infants?”

“I think Dr. Stratton needs your assistance,” I winked at Hamilton as he handed me the chart and quickly scurried away. “Now, Miss…?”

“Harless,” she coughed, trying to catch her breath. “Lynn Harless.”

“Ms. Harless, I’m Noel Faulkner. What brings you to us today?”

My brows furrowed as she continued to wheeze and sputter out an answer. Her face contorted in pain with each violent lurch of her body. She brought both hands to her mouth to gain some semblance of control. When Lynn’s hacking finally calmed, and she was sure she was in control once again, she pulled her hands from her face. Relief was short-lived for both of us, as we noticed dark blood coating her palms.

I immediately called in a doctor who ordered x-rays, but there was no mistaking the cause of your mom’s symptoms. Oncology wasn’t my particular trade but having lost an uncle to cancer, I’d seen the affects it’d taken on my own family. Maybe, perhaps, that was why I’d outright declined Lynn’s request to keep this from you. You deserved to know how bad it’d gotten. You deserved to be there for her from beginning to end.

“Ms. Harless, You need to inform your family of your worsening condition.”

“My son already knows of my condition,” she said curtly. “I’ve been living with it for some time now.”

“But he doesn’t know how much it’s progressed,” I spoke idly as I concentrated on finding a vein in her arm.

“I put him through damn near enough for a lifetime. I won’t have him watch his mother die of cancer. I won’t.”

I sighed and continued to take her blood. Lynn’d been coming back for the past month to learn about the type of treatment that was available to her. I tried convincing her to speak to you about it but you knew your mother better than anyone. She was as stubborn as a mule.

“So, you’re just going to die alone in a horribly light, iridescent, sterile hospital room?” I raised an eyebrow as I extracted the needle from her arm.

I’d learned over the past couple of years that some patients required the truth. Coddling them wouldn’t help their situation. Tough love was the only medicine. And I knew with Lynn that would be the only way I’d get through to her.

“Noel, you just don’t understand,” she said meekly. I could tell your mother was neither a weak woman nor was she easily spooked, but subjecting you to the realization of her untimely death terrified her.

“The hell I don’t,” I shook my head and placed a cotton ball over the spot where I’d just injected the needle. “I understand that you’re trying to protect him but you’re also being extremely selfish not telling your son where you’ve been running off to for the past month.”

I was overstepping my bounds as a professional but it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t even know you at the time but I knew that you didn’t deserve to be kept in the dark. After a day of convincing her, she’d broken down and called you. You’d dropped whatever you had planned that day and rushed right over to be by her side.

I waited in the hallway to meet you when you arrived. You stepped off the elevator and I knew who you were immediately. You asked a passing nurse for the appropriate room and when she pointed in my direction, I straightened. As you moved closer, your features became better visible. Your blue eyes were wide with concern but were definitely your mother’s. There was no mistaking it. There was a vulnerability about you that I’d never seen in a man before and I was drawn to it immediately.

“Is Lynn Harless in there?” You asked, out of breath.

“Yes, I—”

You never let me finish because the next thing I knew, you were rushing in to confront Lynn. I listened from the hallway as you tore into her for not telling you sooner about the decline of her health. I could hear in your voice how much it killed you to not be able to help her and see the signs that she needed help. I was surprised to hear the anger in your voice, because you didn’t look like the kind of guy to ever lose his cool.

Other than that initial meeting, we rarely spoke but I’d take every opportunity to watch you when you weren’t looking. I began to notice things about your face, which I otherwise wouldn’t have if I hadn’t studied you. You had long laugh lines around your mouth that winked when you let out a harty chuckle that I discovered one sunny day in September after I'd said something intended for Lynn. And, I never told you this, but I fell in love with the small mole just under your right ear. A beauty mark was never so true to its name.

There were also little things about your personality that made me want to know you better. You were so gentle and patient with your mother. You never let her bad days get the better of you, even though she rarely had them. It wasn’t until the very end did I begin to see the threads of your control unraveling.

“Momma, you can’t fall asleep just yet. You’re scheduled for kemo in a few minutes.” You gently caressed her hand, as you sat next to her bedside.

“Yeah, Lynn. You’re not checking out on us are you?” I chuckled as I inspected her IV but when I looked at her graying complexion, my smile fell. “Lynn? Lynn, stay awake for me.”

With one shallow breath, she told you she loved you and let her eyes close.

“Momma? C’mon, momma, stay with me.” You shook her shoulder as she slipped into unconsciousness.

I rushed to her side and checked her vitals, which were weak. I knew she was in trouble. I had the doctor on her case paged and immediately pushed you out of the room. Even as I assisted the physicians, I watched you through the window, pacing outside. Your hands were linked and resting on the back of your neck. I tried to convey my sympathies through my eyes but you turned away as they began to use the defibrillator on her chest.

Once she was stable, I went outside to check on you. You’d planted yourself on the floor next to the door. I could see defeat in the way your body slumped forward and your head hung. There was a knowing there that didn’t require my confirmation.

You knew what I was going to say.

“How long?” You asked without meeting my eyes.

“She’s not going to wake up, Justin.”

Your chin rested on your chest and I could see the quiver of your lips. I slid down next to you and mimicked your posture. The hallway was crowded with passersby but I paid no attention to the commotion around us. When I heard you sniffle, I rested a hand on your shoulder. The comfort I offered only managed to bring about more tears.

I’d never seen you come undone before and I’d never wanted so badly to take away your pain. I would have taken your grief and made it my own, if it were possible. But It wasn’t my place or within my power. The only thing I could offer you was a shoulder to cry on, and you gladly accepted.

You’d needed me then, but I’d never felt like it was enough.

I opened my eyes and wasn’t surprised that tears clouded my vision. I sniffled and took one last fleeting look at myself in the full length mirror. This was the worst thing that could have happened. Loving you wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan. I turned my head when a knock sounded at my front door. I quickly swiped at the tears rolling down my cheeks and called out for you to come in.

“I’ll be out in a second, just…just give me a minute,” I grunted and tugged at the zipper of my dress that didn’t seem to want to budge.

“Are you alright?” You called out to me. Your voice was coming closer and I began to panic, pulling as hard as I could to release myself from the confines of my dress.

“Yeah! I’m fine!” I twisted and struggled. “I’m just…ah!”

“Noel?” You asked cautiously from behind my closed door. “Noel, are you sure you’re okay?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in humiliation. I was stuck in the damned thing.

“Yes, Jay. Y-you can come in.” I sighed in defeat. “I need your help anyway.”

When the door creaked open, I kept my back to you. I was too ashamed to turn and face you. I didn’t want you to see me this way. I knew I shouldn’t have called you, but I was weak.

I was weak for you.

With my back turned, I could hear the hesitation in your footsteps. Your eyes were burning a hole in the back of my head. Having had enough of your silent scrutiny, I finall turned. Your hand was still on the knob as you stood in the open doorway, blinking. I squirmed uncomfortably under your gaze and tried to chuckle to lighten the mood.

“Can you believe it? I’m stuck in my wedding dress. How ridiculous am I?” I tugged at the zipper again, knowing it wouldn’t help. “A little help?”

I turned to face the mirror and watched your reflection move closer. You touched my shoulder; the skin immediately goose-bumped. The contrast in our complexions never ceased to amaze me. Wordlessly, you took hold of the uncooperative zipper and slowly tugged it down. I felt your breath at the nape of my neck and the hand on my shoulder tightened as your other hand traveled lower.

“You’re beautiful,” you said in a low tone.

I bit my lip and tried to keep from fidgeting. It was a completely nervous habit you brought out of me.

“Thank you,” I breathed and stepped away from you. Your hand lingered on my shoulder and left a tingling sensation in its wake.

I turned to meet your eyes and was surprised to see that your orbs were clear and calm. I expected them to be clouded with emotion but there was almost a faint smile on your face.

“Why the look?”

“What look?” Your grin widened and laugh lines stretched.

“That look,” I gestured with one hand and tried to keep my dress up with the other. “The grin spreading across your face.”

I wasn’t quite sure why that look was making me so annoyed. You weren’t a smug guy but the look you were giving me was very smug indeed.

You shrugged. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride in her dress?”

“In the case of the groom, yes.” I rolled my eyes and turned back toward the mirror, playing with a possible up-do I’d been considering for the day of.

“What about in the case of the guy who’d like to be the groom?”

My breath caught, and my eyes snapped up to meet yours. My movements stilled as our eyes held. I barely breathed when your hands moved over the outline of my bare shoulders but didn’t come in contact with my skin. I could feel the heat radiating from your palms even though we never touched.

I tried to contain a shudder as you lowered your head to become level with my ear. “I want to touch you Noel, but I’m afraid of what I’d do,” you whispered.

I closed my eyes, savoring the feel of your moist lips at the shell of my ear. I wanted you to touch me. God, help me. I wanted you to touch me so badly.

“I’m not afraid, Justin.” I said so quietly, I wasn’t sure you’d heard me. “Touch me.” I reached for your hand and intertwined our fingers, as I’d done many times before.

But this time felt different.

Without much thought, I released the fabric of my dress and let it pool at my feet. I turned to face you and never let go of your hand. I stood on my tip-toes and kissed the underside of your jaw and heard your quick intake of breath.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” Your voice was raw and husky. “This is wrong.”

I kissed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. “Does it feel wrong?”

I’d never claimed to be a seductress and I’d never intended for this, but I wasn’t going to stop it. It didn’t feel wrong when you touched me. It didn’t feel wrong when you finally touched your lips with mine. And it wasn’t wrong when you made love to me.

It was wrong what I did to you the following morning.