Beneath It All (Beneath #1) Page 3

  The butterflies were back in full force as I stepped into the breast center clinic. The lobby was warm and comforting and didn’t feel medical, which I was thankful for. I was greeted by the friendly front desk staff and offered a beverage while I waited but declined as I had already had to find the ladies’ room after guzzling my tea.

  Once I returned from the ladies’ room, I spotted a comfy chair by the window and settled in with my book. Reading had always been my escape, and I needed it more than anything at that time. The fifteen-minute wait breezed by, as I was once again engrossed in the story.

  “Victoria Madison?”

  Once again, I was beckoned by a stranger with a smile. Standing, I made my way toward the woman who was waiting; her name tag said Ginny. She seemed nice; she made small talk while we walked back to a changing-room area. I was assigned a locker, and she explained that I needed to strip from the waist up and remove all jewelry. She handed me another pink robe—luckily, it was cloth this time—and instructed me to keep the opening in the front.

  Ginny was waiting for me when I exited the changing area and escorted me into the mammography room. I found myself face to face with a large machine with an area that looked like a giant panini maker. She removed what looked like heating pads that were covering the plates.

  “We put heating pads on them so they aren’t so cold; it helps since we have to keep the room temperature cool to prevent the machine from overheating.”

  I got a better look as I stepped closer. Thank God! The surface was smooth and not ridged like a panini maker, but it was intimidating nonetheless since its job was to smoosh my boob into a pancake. “Don’t worry; it isn’t as bad as it looks.”

  Another woman, who I assumed was the mammographer, entered the room. She looked me over and gave me an odd look. “Wow, you’re awfully young to be here. So many doctors send young women for mammograms when they aren’t necessary.”

  I’m not sure if she was trying to make me feel better, but she wasn’t very successful. If anything, she made me feel like I was wasting her time, which in turn had me thinking maybe this was wasting mine too. I was not looking forward to letting this disgruntled woman manhandle me.

  Ginny gave me an “I’m sorry about that” look before she stepped out of the room. After explaining the procedure to me, the technician asked me to open my gown and to place my right breast on one of the plates as she directed. She positioned it a bit and told me to put my hands on the bar in front of me. I slowly felt the plates start to close and thought to myself that this wasn’t the most comfortable thing, but I could do it.

  After being rearranged for a few different scans, it was time to show some attention to my left breast, the “problem” breast, as I was beginning to refer to it. I placed the “problem” between the plates, but this time when they started to close together, tears instantly filled my eyes and the words “fuck, that hurts” left my mouth without restraint. I gritted my teeth together for the rest of the scans and let out the breath I was apparently holding when it was done. The spot in my breast felt like it was burning, and I was well aware of it now.

  Thankfully, the woman showed a bit more understanding when she stepped back toward me; she could tell that I was hurting. I shook it off and was brought back to a private waiting area while they reviewed the results. There were a few other women waiting, and every so often a nurse would come in and tell one of them that her “boobs looked great” and she was free to leave. I kept waiting and hoping they would say my name the next time they walked in, but they didn’t. My anxiety level began to creep up. For once, all I wanted to hear was my name.

  “Victoria.” Finally.

  Ginny approached me. “The radiologist would like to do an ultrasound. Please follow me, and we’ll get you on your way home shortly.” I followed her into a dimly lit room and took a seat to wait for the sonographer to come in.

  When she arrived, I was told to lie down on the reclined exam table. She offered me a warm blanket for my lower half and explained the procedure to me while she got everything set up. I opened my gown as requested, and she squirted a gel-like liquid on what looked like a microphone and placed it on my left breast by my sternum.

  She moved the wand around and then stopped right over the “problem.” I once again could feel the discomfort, and I stiffened. Recognizing my distress, she hit a few buttons on the machine and quickly removed the wand and wiped my breast off. “I captured a few images that I need the radiologist to review. He is expecting them, so it should only take a few minutes. Is there anything I can get you while you wait? A magazine maybe?”

  “No, thank you. I’ll be fine.” I forced a smile, and she left the room.

  I was grateful that the ultrasound wasn’t as uncomfortable as the mammogram, and I was ready to be done when the door opened and in walked the sonographer, followed by a man who I assumed was the radiologist. He looked to be in his mid-fifties and was wearing a white lab coat. Glasses were perched on the tip of his nose and he was balding.

  “Hello, Mrs. Madison. I’m Dr. Christopher Frank, the radiologist on duty today.” He offered his hand for a quick shake and proceeded to go about his business. “I reviewed the images that were just taken and want to take another peek for myself. Can you please open your gown?”

  I did as he asked and watched his face as he searched the screen. He gave nothing away, damn pokerfaced doctors. “Can you please lift your arm over your head for me?” It was a strange request, but I complied and raised my arm up and rested it back on the pillow.

  He moved the wand under my arm on the left side of my breast, and it hit me. This wasn’t good. My stomach began to churn as I realized what he was looking at. Shit. He was looking at my lymph nodes: this was not a good thing.

  Dr. Frank cleared his throat. “Victoria, I would like to do a needle biopsy while you’re here. It’s a very easy procedure and will take about five minutes.”

  Nodding my understanding, I encouraged him to explain the procedure. The fear of the unknown coming my way was starting to make my stomach churn . . . again. I was prepared for a mammogram and an ultrasound, but a biopsy never entered my realm of thinking.

  “I’ll be performing an image-guided biopsy in which I’ll insert a needle into the area we want to take a sample from. The sonographer will assist me by using the ultrasound machine to help me locate the exact spot to take a tissue sample. Once I’ve reached the area in question, I’ll pull a trigger on the biopsy instrument, and it will gather tissue samples for us to send to the lab. We will give you a local anesthetic before the procedure, and you can expect some discomfort for the next day or two. Do you have any questions for me before we begin?”

  Wow, he was direct and to the point. My head felt like it was going to explode. I managed to form the word no before he stepped out of the room and the sonographer began to prep me for the procedure.

  When Dr. Frank reappeared, he gave me a comforting smile—because he probably knew I would bolt otherwise. He was a smart man.

  I laid still as the local anesthetic was given and took some deep breaths. It was time to go to my happy place, which was pretty much any place but here. I closed my eyes and imagined myself sitting on a beach looking out over turquoise waves as the ultrasound wand was moved around on my breast.

  “Hold it right there,” Dr. Frank said calmly as he began to insert the needle. Holy crap . . . it wasn’t a small needle! I squeezed my eyes tighter and tried to continue breathing while the pressure built and a burning sensation took over.

  Click. Click. Click.

  I was startled by a loud series of sounds and then the discomfort disappeared. I felt the sonographer’s hand press down on the area as she applied a gauze pad over the biopsy site.

  “Victoria, you did very well. I was able to grab a few samples fairly easily. We’ll get you some ice to pack into your bra, and you will want to take ibuprofen for the discomfort. If you have any problems with the insertion area, please call our office right
away. You can expect the results within a few days. I wish you the best; it was a pleasure to meet you,” Dr. Frank said before he exited the room.

  When I was fully clothed again, Ginny was waiting with a bag of crushed ice. “I recommend you place this in your bra directly on the area of the biopsy. It’s double bagged and shouldn’t leak.” I turned around and stuffed my bra with the ice pack. I remember doing this with tissue or socks as a young girl wishing I had boobs, but somehow this didn’t feel quite the same.

  She led me back out to the reception area, and I noticed that the office was empty. “I’m sorry we kept you so long; Dr. Freeman will call you with the results. It usually takes three to four days to get them back. In the meantime, go about your business as usual, and don’t hesitate to call with questions. Best of luck,” she said as she held the door for me.

  “Thank you.”

  *

  I don’t know how I did it, but I arrived home safely. It was a miracle because I had been shaking from the adrenaline coursing through my body for the entire fifteen-minute drive home. My nerves were about to short circuit, and I wanted to throw up.

  When I walked in, I heard “Feels Like Home” by Chantal Kreviazuk playing. The sound of her melodic voice and the piano was comforting as I walked toward the kitchen and found Noah pouring a glass of wine. The orchestra kicked in just as he turned around and saw me; a look of unease quickly washed away the smile on his face.

  “Victoria, are you all right? Your face is pale, and you look like you’re going to be sick.” The concern in his voice was evident as he guided me toward a chair in the living room before vanishing and then reappearing with a glass of water.

  He was on his knees in front of me as I took the glass from him and shakily lifted it to my mouth. I felt the cold liquid slide down my throat, and I quickly downed the entire glass, wishing it had been vodka to numb the pain. I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. Noah continued to search my face and attempted to make eye contact; when he finally did, the tears began running down my face and a sob escaped my throat.

  Time passed, and I found myself curled up in Noah’s arms in the middle of our bed, his cheek resting on the top of my head. I looked up to find his eyes red from the tears he must have shed.

  He noticed my movement, looked down at me, and simply said, “I love you.” He kissed the tip of my nose, and a small, comforting smile appeared on his face.

  “I love you too.” I shifted myself so I could sit up and face him.

  We stared at each for a few moments before I spoke. “Noah, I don’t know anything yet. I left you the message on my way to the breast clinic, and the two hours I was there seemed like an out-of-body experience. I know you want to know everything they did, but I just can’t talk about it anymore. I’m mentally exhausted.” I took a deep breath. “We need to believe that everything is okay, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m scared.”

  “You have every right to be scared. Look, I don’t know what you went through today, but I know it was anything but normal, and you did it alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you; something came up after I got into the office, and I couldn’t get away. I should have demanded I go with you, but instead, I respected your decision to go alone.”

  He pulled me against his chest. “I may not have been there today, but I promise to be with you going forward.” I knew he felt bad about not going and hoped there wouldn’t be any future appointments for him to go to.

  Chapter Three

  I AM BRAVE

  The next morning, I woke up early and felt a little more at ease. I pulled on one of Noah’s dress shirts and made my way down to the kitchen. A hot cup of coffee and yogurt with granola were waiting for me at the breakfast bar. What I didn’t expect was the beautiful bouquet of flowers and the smiling man holding them, waiting for me. Noah usually got up and left for the office by six, and it was rare to see him in the morning.

  “Good morning, sunshine.” He leaned in and kissed my temple. “How are you feeling? Did you sleep well? How is the biopsy site? Do you need ice or ibuprofen?” His rapid-fire questions revealed his nerves. While I felt a little more at peace this morning, I could tell that he had been overthinking everything and didn’t know what to do to help me. He looked tired.

  “I’m feeling better after a good night’s sleep in your arms. I felt safe.” He placed the vase of flowers on the middle of the countertop and started fidgeting, unsure of what to do. “I could use some ibuprofen after I eat. My chest is a bit sore, and there is a little bit of bruising coming out . . . it’s not pretty looking.”

  He placed the ibuprofen pills on the counter with a glass of water. I could see the anxiety in his eyes when he finally sat down; I could feel the tension rolling off him. There was no sense in acting like the world had come to an end, and we needed to keep moving as if nothing was happening. In all honesty, nothing was happening—or at least nothing was confirmed wrong—so why should I let it beat me down?

  “Do you need to go into the office today?” I asked before putting a spoonful of yogurt into my mouth.

  “I had a few meetings scheduled for today, but I already called Whitney and told her to reschedule them, as well as the rest of my meetings this week. I can’t focus right now.”

  He suddenly grabbed my legs and turned me toward him. “Victoria, what do you say to hopping on a plane and going to Chicago overnight? We weren’t able to do much exploring in New York with the conference, and Chicago is the next best city to visit and it’s only an hour flight. What do you think?” He seemed a bit anxious suggesting it, but I found it down-right sweet.

  “Really? Just hop on a flight to Chicago?” I questioned. He made it sound so easy. We’d never done anything spur of the moment like that before. This was new, but I was actually warming to the idea of getting away. I arched an eyebrow, letting him know I was giving it some consideration.

  Noah countered: “Why not? It would be a quick trip, a day or two at most, and we haven’t enjoyed a getaway without work involved in a very long time. It’s perfect.” He gazed at me with puppy-dog eyes.

  “I suppose it would work. I don’t have anything major at work the next few days and an escape for just the two of us would be good. Let’s do it.”

  He tried to control the excitement on his face, but it didn’t work very well. “You’re sure?”

  I laughed. “Yes, I’m sure. And while we’re at it . . . I’d like to visit the Bean and Navy Pier and go up to the Skydeck at the Willis Tower.” Then it was my turn to flash my best puppy-dog eyes. “I think I’ve finally worked up the courage to tackle my fear of heights. Would you do it with me? I might even want to step out on the Ledge.”

  It took him a moment to process, but when he replied, I could see that his wheels had been turning and I should prepare myself. “If I agree, I’ve one request.”

  “And that is?”

  “That you hurry up and finish your breakfast. I’ll go book our flight while you finish and then we need to grab a quick shower and throw a few things in a bag.” He leaned down to my ear. “Hurry up, because it won’t take long for me to book the flight and be prepared . . . it isn’t going to be a fast shower.”

  Well damn! I looked at his sexy little smirk and thought to myself: Two can play this game.

  Reaching for my coffee, I took a sip while holding his gaze. Then I picked up my yogurt and licked my lips before lifting the last spoonful to my mouth. With a steady hand, I pulled the spoon out from between my lips slowly and proceeded to lick it clean. The heat in Noah’s eyes was rising, and I knew that I was asking for it.

  Feeling brave, I saw the fruit bowl was in reach and a nice looking banana was begging to be eaten. He followed my eyes to see what I was looking at and let out a low chuckle. “Since when do you have a banana with your breakfast?”

  After the ache we were both feeling emotionally, we needed to lighten the mood, and this was the perfect distraction. I grabbed the banana and casually started
to peel it. “My breakfast left me feeling unsatisfied and I needed something more to . . . satisfy my appetite.” I could see humor and heat dancing in his eyes, which only encouraged me more.

  “Now this I’d like to see.” He smirked as he leaned against the back of his stool with his arms crossed over his chest.

  Game on!

  As I finished pulling the last section of peel down, I rolled my tongue around the tip of it before lightly sucking, getting it wet and letting out a moan. “This banana is so thick and firm.” I placed my tongue at the base of where it was peeled to and licked my way up to the tip and hummed my appreciation. “It’s the perfect size for my mouth.”

  “Victoria!” Noah cautioned, but I could see the lust in his eyes, and it was betraying him. He was enjoying this as much as I was.

  I made a perfect O with my lips and took the piece of fruit in my mouth and pushed it back to my throat and oh so slowly pulled it back out, never taking my eyes off my husband. “It’s so long, too.”

  He shifted on his barstool, and I could see him adjust his pants.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” I asked before taking the banana all the way in my mouth again and then popping my mouth off the end. “You seem a bit uncomfortable.”

  He let out a groan. “I suggest you finish that banana in the next ten seconds, otherwise you aren’t going to finish it at all.”

  I ran my tongue around the tip and started licking all around the delectable fruit as I watched his patience reach its breaking point.

  “Fucking banana,” he cursed as he grabbed it and threw it onto the counter. He lifted me off of my stool and set me down standing on the floor. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

  He gave my backside a swift little swat and chased me upstairs and into the bathroom. He set me up on the counter. I watched as he started stripping out of his clothes like it was a race. He turned and looked at me sitting there, trying to look all innocent.