Page 3 of Puck King
Hollie emerged from behind the desk. “I’ll get you your indoor shoes. Don’t you dare track any more of that dirty snow in here.” Her voice was light as she pretended to scold me, her boss.
“I have a pair of running shoes in the cubby at the back of room one, but I don’t want to interrupt a treatment.” I unlaced the offending boots and set them gently on the boot tray. My wool socks were a bright fuchsia and didn’t match my outfit at all.
Hollie laughed. “Those socks are worse than the boots. He must be on the phone, he’s not scheduled with a patient. He was already holed away in his office when I got here. I’ll tiptoe in and get them for you.” She gently pushed on the door and poked her head inside. “Oh my God.” She inhaled sharply and pulled the door shut so hard, the diplomas on the wall rattled. She stood with her hand on the lever, but I could see that her ears were turning red.
“Hollie?”
She turned. Her eyes were wide and her face was the color of a red therapy ball. “I’ll. Just…” She stammered, unable to form a sentence.
“What’s going on?” My employee appeared shaken to the core. “Brian?” I leapt to my feet. “Is he okay?”
I reached to open the door, but Hollie held on. “Alison. Don’t go in there.” She let go of the lever but placed her hand on mine. Confusion had set in, but the look in Hollie’s eyes told me that Brian wasn’t lying on the floor in need of medical attention.
As I pushed the door open, my heart thudded in my ears. The lighting was dimmed, and a woman who I recognized as one of Brian’s regulars was buttoning up her shirt. Brian was at his computer, his hair sticking out in different directions.
Brian typed something on the keyboard, then turned to face me. I was frozen in the doorway, my eyes darting between my husband and the woman. “Alison? Do you need something?” His voice cracked and he looked over my shoulder. “I was just finishing up a treatment on Mrs. Haversham.”
The woman stepped beside me and picked up her expensive looking handbag. Her face was pink and her lipstick was smudged below her bottom lip. “Excuse me, Miss, I need to get my coat.” She pointed to a hook on the back of the door.
My hands were shaking as I stepped aside to allow the socialite to slide into her cashmere coat. Her face was stone cold, but I wasn’t sure if it was her demeanor or from one too many facelifts.
“Next week, Brian?” she asked. “I’ll book it with your secretary this time.”
Brian didn’t look up from his screen. “Next week. Do the exercises we discussed.”
Mrs. Haversham’s perfume lingered as she left the room, shutting the door behind her. I flicked on the overhead light. The fluorescent bulbs buzzed overhead and I could see the erection in my husband’s pants, as well as the tail of his shirt hanging over his belt.
“Exercises?” I should’ve been screaming, but a sense of calm had overtaken my body. “And what exercises did you suggest for your patient?”
Brian crossed his arms against his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Just some shoulder stuff.”
Someone else seemed to have taken over my body and I was along for the ride. It wasn’t me. I strode across the room and grabbed at the bulge in Brian’s pants. “This kind of shoulder exercise?” I squeezed as hard as I could.
Brian yelped and grabbed at my wrist. “Let go,” he groaned.
I squeezed harder.
“Alison, for God’s sake.” Brian clawed at my forearm with one hand while he gripped the desk in front of him. “It’s not what it looked like.” I released my death grip and Brian doubled over in the chair. “What’s gotten into you?”
The tears in my eyes burned and I didn’t know if they were the sad or angry kind. I had just caught my husband cheating on me. I backed up to the door and pressed my body into it, as if I could slip through the wood and away from the nightmare in front of me. “What was it then?” My voice came out stronger than I expected.
Brian stood and pulled the sheet from the treatment table. “It was nothing. I’ve been treating that shoulder injury for months now. She’s finally making some progress.”
The lie seemed effortless and if I hadn’t just seen it myself, I might have believed him. But the sound of the half-opened condom hitting the tile floor echoed between us.
“Alison.” He stepped on the evidence and I wondered if he truly thought I hadn’t seen it. “Where is this jealousy coming from? It doesn’t look good on you.”
Growing up, I’d never worked out; I’d never participated in school sports or extracurricular activities because I’d had to work on the farm. I’d had no idea I was significantly stronger than most people until university, when I’d first heard the term ‘farm strong.’ I wasn’t a fighter, but I was built like one.
And Brian wasn’t. He was a marathon runner, thin and wiry.
I clenched my fists at my side. “Tell me if I have this right.” I took two steps and was face to face with the cheating bastard. He stood his ground for a second and then took a step back, revealing the crinkled condom still in its wrapper. “You are breaking every code of conduct for our profession; you were about to, if you haven’t already, have sex with someone who isn’t your wife; and now you’re gaslighting me.”
“Alison.” Brian stepped behind the chair and wheeled it between us. “Ali…”
I kicked the condom in his direction and it bounced off the wheel of the chair, then ricocheted into the corner.
The tough farm girl façade was crumbling. The girl who’d cried when any of the farm animals had died was still inside me, and I could feel my shoulders shaking as a sob escaped. “I can’t believe you would do this to me; to us, to our business.” I spread my arms and squeezed my eyes tightly to stop the tears. I wasn’t going to cry in front of him.
