Impulse: A Doctors Obsession

Impulsive

Christine stepped out of the shower and rung out her hair then clipped it up on top of her head, wrapped a towel around herself and wiped the condensation off the mirror. It had been a week since she took internship at Shriners for Children. It was exhausting. Her days were long and difficult, but this is what she wanted to do. She heard her phone beeping, letting her know she had voicemails. She picked up her phone and tapped the mailbox icon and put it on speaker, then went to get clothes from her dresser. "Message received Friday six-forty-three. "Hey babe. Call me back. Love you". She smiled. The second message was from James. She cringed when she heard his voice. He had been very adamant about her interning with him, like she owed it to him. She felt as though he was encroaching on her life.

Instead of calling him back like he asked she decided space was what she needed. How can she let him down easy without hurting his feelings? She started getting dressed when her phone rang again. She picked it up and let out a huge sigh then put her phone back down. It was James, again. 'What is his problem?' She asked herself in a whisper. Within the time it took her to get dressed, dry her hair and put on make-up, she received three more called from James. Tonight was a special night. Wes was taking her out as congratulations on her internship. It was the first time either of them were going to Perch, a rooftop dining restaurant. A knock at the door gave her a smile on her face. Wes was here. She grabbed her bag, slipped on her heels and turned off the light. "Wow!" Was all that came out of Wes's mouth when Christine opened the door. "We should go before we don't make it to dinner," he said, pulling her in for a kiss. Christine laughed and grabbed Wes's hand, leading him away from her apartment. 

Christine's phone vibrated on her nightstand waking her up. "What the hell?!" She answered her phone in an unpleasant way. "Hello, it better be important this late!" There was silence, but someone was on the phone. Christine looked at the caller ID, it was private. "Who is this?" She asked, waiting for a reply. "Fuck off!" She hung up and laid back down. As she started to drift back to sleep, her phone vibrated again. This time she ignored the call and turned her phone off. 

James called her number again, but it went to voicemail. He tried again, still going into voicemail. Now he was mad. He called again, this time leaving a message. "Christine, I don't know what I did to upset you, but I need to talk to you."

The following morning, Christine woke, to drizzle. They day ahead looked to be a gloomy day. She turned on her phone and within seconds she was flooded with notifications. Fifteen voicemails and twenty-eight text messages, all from James. "Holy shit! Enough!" Christine dialed James number and he picked up almost immediately. "Christine!" "Listen, Dr. Gilman, I need you to listen and to understand me, I want you to stop calling, texting and interfering with my life. I'm sorry that I upset you, but this is how it had to be." Christine and let out a sigh. "Where is all of this coming from Chris-." "Enough. I'm done. Please don't call me, again." Christine ended the call, praying that he would get the hint and not call back. Dodging into the kitchen to make coffee, Christine quickly put on her scrubs and sneakers and poured her coffee in a thermos and headed out the door. The drizzle didn't bother her as she made her way from the door to the car. 

James sat in silence after Christine shut him out. It was like being slapped in the face. Actually, he had been slapped. This, this was worse. This was like she took a knife and stabbed him, in the heart. How could she do this? Without warning, James let out a loud deafening scream. He got up form the sofa and kicked his glass table, shattering it into tiny shards. "Fuck!" His face was red from the anger that rose from within. James made a run for his bathroom where he threw up. Once he was done he wiped his mouth and slid to the floor. Sweat was beating off his forehead. James sat there on the floor quietly crying. "Christine."

"Hi Miss Chris," squealed a tiny voice from the bed as Christine entered the room. "Good morning Claire. How are you feeling today?" Christine walked over to the bed to check Claire's vitals. Claire is a seven-year-old with Leukemia. "I guess I'm doing ok. How are you?" Claire responded with authority. Christine looked at her. "Well, I'm glad you're ok. I've been better, but I'm ok too." She didn't want to have a grown-up conversation with a child. So she left the conversation there. "Your blood pressure is a little low, but other than that, everything looks good. Breakfast should be here in a few minutes. I'll be back later on." Claire waved and smiled at Christine before she disappeared. 

The rest of her day dragged on. All she wanted to do was get a hot shower and relax with a glass of wine. It was seven o'clock when she finished up her shift and clocked out for the day. She said goodnight to Patricia at the desk on the way to the elevator. Once the ding came the doors opened, and Christine stepped inside. She sighed and leaned against the wall on her way down to the ground level. Making her way to her car, she felt an awful feeling creep up on her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she was covered in goosebumps. She carefully checked her surroundings but didn't see anyone or anything out of place. Approaching her car she saw there was a rose on her windshield with an envelope. Looking behind her to make sure no one would jump out at her Christine grabbed the rose and threw it on the ground. She quickly grabbed the envelope and got into her car, locking the doors once she was in. Her throat felt like sandpaper as she tried to swallow. She opened the envelope and took out the paper in it. With shaky hands she unfolded the paper. She quickly put her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The note read: You're Mine. She started the car and headed home. Home was where she needed to be right now. Safe. 

As soon as she was safe inside her apartment she dialed Wes. "I need you to pick me up! I'm going to start packing a bag. I'll meet you outside in fifteen minutes. I need to go to my mother's house now."