I Married a Master(51)
Author: Melanie Marchande

***

Why was I so worried?

Sitting in the waiting room, I twisted a loose thread on my sleeve, over and over and over again. I wondered if I should have worn something more glamorous to take my billionaire boyfriend to the dentist. Would I pass as the appealingly unsophisticated girl-next-door type, a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of models and heiresses?

A family came into the crowded waiting room, four of them, and they searched silently for a place to sit together. Everything on my side was taken, but there were two sets of two empty seats on the other side, bisected by a completely oblivious couple. The family was too polite to say anything, and they split, glancing at each other awkwardly over the couples’ heads. I fumed silently, fighting the irrational urge to jump up and scream at them for failing to notice the blindingly obvious.

Ben was going to be fine. It was a routine procedure, so common, so simple. But I’d looked over his shoulder when he signed the waivers. I knew all the things that could go wrong, simply because of the anesthetic. I knew they were just covering their asses. But they still needed his signature, just to make sure that he understood. There was a chance – however small, however insignificant – that he wouldn’t wake up again.

Stop thinking like that.

I stared at the TV, slowly nursing an irrational hatred for everyone involved in the production of Days of Our Lives.

After what felt like an eternity, the nurse with the clipboard finally called my name.

"Ms. Hadley? You can come back now."

She looked relaxed enough, so I didn’t hold my breath as I followed her to the recovery area.

"Everything went great," she said, leading me to his cot. He still looked mostly asleep, pretty peaceful, and only slightly like a chipmunk. "He’s pretty groggy. You might have to stay with him for a while. Some people come out slower than others. Do you know if he’s usually like this?"

I shrugged uncomfortably, like the nurse somehow knew my secret. "No, I…I mean, he’s never been put under since I’ve known him."

"Well, if somebody can watch over him for the next couple of hours at least, that’d be ideal. He might have a little trouble with his balance for a while, and he’ll have to be careful with eating. His stomach might reject anything he eats for a while. It’s no big deal, except you’re not going to want to clean up the mess."

"Right," I said. Of all the things I’d imagined myself doing to scrape by in New York, cleaning up a billionaire’s puke certainly wasn’t among them.

Then again, neither was any of this. But I had to draw the line somewhere.

Ben made a small noise, stirring and opening his eyes slightly.

"He won’t remember any of this," the nurse said. "And even after he seems ‘awake,’ he probably won’t remember most of that, either. And anything he says is likely to be complete gibberish. The best thing will be for him to just sleep it off."

She rattled off a few more instructions, reminding me a few more times that he wasn’t going to remember anything. After she left, Ben seemed to come back to consciousness a little bit. He worked his mouth open and closed a few times, and made a slight noise.

"You want something to drink?" I asked him, holding up the bottle of water. He nodded, and I tipped a little into his mouth. He swallowed with difficulty, his eyelids heavy.

"I don’t feel very good," he muttered, his head falling back on the pillow.

"Well, that’s understandable." I patted his hand, unsure of how I should try to comfort him. Nobody was around, so I didn’t feel like I needed to put on a show. Would his ex-wife’s lawyer really come around and interview the dental staff, anyway?

He groaned softly.

"The nurse said you’d probably throw up," I told him.

"I won’t," he said. stubbornly. "I’ve been under general before. I don’t throw up. They always tell me I will, but I don’t."

He sounded so belligerent. I grinned in spite of myself. "Okay. But you need to be careful about eating, anyway."

"Fuck careful," he muttered. "Order me a pizza."

I glanced at the room, and then back at him. "I’m not ordering you a pizza to the surgeon’s office," I told him. "You can’t chew it, anyway."

He groaned again.

"I’ll get you a milkshake on the way home," I promised him. "After we go to the pharmacy."

The nurse was passing by, and she laughed. "If you’re planning on having kids, this is pretty good practice."

I smiled wanly.

***

Fighting the traffic wasn’t quite as bad as I’d anticipated, and Ben had already arranged for the valet at his place to return the car to the rental agency. Ben wasn’t swaying anymore, so I let him walk up the stairs on his own, slowly, guiding him towards the sofa in his library once we got inside. Getting up another flight of stairs seemed like an unnecessary hassle.

He laid down gingerly, groaning.

"Want something to eat?"

He shook his head. Right. With oral surgery, it was unlikely he’d want anything for a while. It had been so long, I forgot.

I perched on the arm of the sofa, awkwardly, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.

"Hey," he mumbled.

"I’m here," I told him.

"Is it normal to remember some of the surgery?"

I almost wanted to laugh at the way he sounded with the gauze still stuffed in his mouth, but I didn’t. "I don’t know. Maybe. Could you feel it?"

"No," he said. "Not really. I think I just woke up at the very end."

There was a moment of silence.

"I have a Tesla," he said.

I processed this for a moment.

"Okay," I replied. "Like, the car?"

"No, like the scientist," he muttered. "The fuck do you think?"

"No need to be a dick about it." I got up and settled down in the chair across from him. "Although, on the plus side, I guess that means you’re feeling better."

"I feel great," he said. "I feel like that Pink Floyd song. Doo doo doo…a distant ship, smoke on the water…I turned to look, but the child was gone…" He hummed, very off-key, waving one arm like a drunk conductor, while I nearly doubled over with laughter.

"I don’t think that’s how it goes," I managed, as he drifted off. "So you’ve got a Tesla, huh?"

"You seemed interested in my cars," he muttered. "When I first asked you for a ride. I thought you might be curious. It’s very pretty." He sighed. "We should take it for a spin sometime."

"Okay, sure," I said. "Just as soon as you can remember all the actual words to ‘Comfortably Numb.’"