Page 55 of My Heart's Doctor
“Mr. Cavaller? I see we’re back to last names,” I said, highlighting what was obvious.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” she said, and I felt she was mocking me.
Devon Dulcet, you don’t know who you’re messing with,I told myself.
I immediately sat down beside her.
“Setting aside your way of addressing me, because I think we’ve moved beyond the need for formal treatment, I’ll focus on what really interests me. Why didn’t you call me?”
“I haven’t been able to,” she responded very naturally, making my anger increase.
“You haven’t been able to, but I see you do have time to go out with other people,” I reproached, because it was impossible not to say what I was thinking.
“And so do you,” she said, showing me that she was also upset at seeing me with Leonor, which pleased me because it meant I provoked some emotion in her.
At that moment, the woman who had been with her at the restaurant arrived and looked at us without saying anything, and I couldn’t help but look at her angrily because her presence was interrupting us.
“Good thing you arrived, Sylvia, because I was about to come looking for you,” Devon said, letting me know she wanted to end our conversation.
“I can come back later,” her friend said, somewhat hesitantly.
“No, not at all. Mr. Cavaller was just leaving,” she indicated, dismissing me in a not-so-subtle way.
And I had my pride, so I stood up, looked at her seriously, and then looked at her friend to say goodbye because I was polite.
“Good night,” I said, and with that I left the place.
When I got to my car, I was truly furious. That night it had become clear that Devon wanted nothing to do with me and that she was angry with me. Wait a minute—why was she angry with me? I hadn’t done absolutely anything to her!
The image of Leonor hanging on my arm came to mind. What if Devon was upset because she thought I was dating Leonor? I had to clear this up. The only way was to wait for her and approach her again.
Where’s your pride, you fool?, I asked myself.
I didn’t recognize myself in the pushover that woman had turned me into, but I wasn’t a coward and I was going to confront her so she could tell me to my face what the hell her problem was with me.
I had to wait quite a while. Several times I was about to start the car and get out of there, and just when I was about to do it, I saw her leave the place, staggering and laughing non-stop. Was she drunk? The proper and sweet doctor was drunk?
I didn't even think about it. I got out of the car and headed toward her. She saw me as soon as I got out of the car, said something I couldn't hear, her friend replied, and they burst into laughter.
“Are you drunk?” I asked, when I stood in front of her.
“That's none of your business,” her friend responded.
“I'm not talking to you,” I stated, looking at him as if he were an insect in my food.
“Mr. Cavaller, as my dear friend Orson just told you, my condition is none of your business. You'd better get back to your car and…”
“Get in my car and I'll take you to your building,” I ordered, interrupting her.
She looked at her friends as if I were speaking to her in an incomprehensible language and asked ironically:
“Am I being clear or is my drinking making what I say unintelligible?”
“I understand you perfectly clear,” this Orson guy replied.
“Devon, don't make me lose my patience and get in my car. You can't drive in that state,” I stated, because I wasn't going to let her leave in a car driven by her or any of her friends who were in the same terrible condition.
“Enough! I'm going to hail a taxi and…” She couldn't finish whatever she was going to say because she stumbled and ended up in my arms.
