Limbo

Hi folks,

After reading several great stories in this category (FrancisMacomber and angiquesophie being particular favourites), I thought I'd try my hand at one myself. It's a departure from my usual style, so let's see where the words take me. Feedback is most welcome.

An immense vote of thanks to my diligent editor, Bramblethorn, who has the often onerous task of wrangling my error riddled drafts into a somewhat readable end product.

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."

- Dr. Seuss

* *

Dr Ethan Cole was on his way to the break room when his pager buzzed. Cursing, he checked it and saw he was required in radiology.

It was one of those nights. Actually it was one of those weeks altogether. He was tired, sleep-deprived, and the only thing keeping his body together was coffee. Coffee, because sadly the hospital did not have a hidden stash of amphetamines.

Ethan was just starting out, not that the hospital or patients cared about such trifling details. For them, he was the fresh-faced miracle worker making his rounds.

"Yeah?" he asked, poking his head into radiology.

"Need your opinion on this scan," said the blonde doctor inside. "Do you think it's an infection?"

"Lungs look clear. No masses or lesions," he concluded after a quick glance. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the clearly-defined cleavage that his female colleague had generously exposed for his benefit.

"Dr Kowalski, your.. umm," he pointed vaguely, looking down.

"Dr Kowalski's my Dad. Call me Callie," she responded, licking her lips.

Before he could call her Callie, she reached out and held his arm.

"Your night shift doesn't have to suck as much as usual. I can do something about it."

Ethan carefully removed her arm, all the while entrapping her with his blue-eyed gaze. He stuck out his right hand, displaying the wedding ring. Callie eyed it ruefully.

"C'mon. How often do you even see her anyway?"

"Not as often as I want to."

"You spend most of your waking hours in this place. When was the last time the two of you went on a date? When was the last time you even shared a cup of coffee?"

Admittedly, Ethan had to think a few weeks back. His job had recently turned all-consuming. Callie sidled up to him and offered him a cup full of the worst instant coffee in Manhattan, which he swallowed gratefully.

"I'm a doctor too. I get it. The hours we have to put in. No one else understands why we aren't home so many nights."

"Zoe's a nurse. I'm sure she gets it."

"No one gets it unless they've endured pre-med, med school, residency and masters. You and I have waded through hellfire and brimstone to be here."

Before he could say anything, Callie spoke again, lowering her voice.

"Marriages with doctors don't last. My Dad pays alimony to three different women. The only person who gets that... is another doctor."

Ethan simply looked at her for a few long minutes. Her eyes were bloodshot, emphasised by dark circles beneath them.

"You get some sleep, Callie. You need it."

He hastily made his exit, straight into the swell of the hospital crowd once more. New York Presbyterian was one of the busiest places on a slow night. Nurses, orderlies and doctors scrambled from one door to another.

He checked his watch and didn't find himself busy for another hour or so. Making his way to the break room, he took out his phone and pressed speed dial one. A few rings went by before Zoe picked up.

"Hey, honey," she said sleepily into her speaker.

"Hey, there. How was your day?"

"Tiresome as always, but I'm guessing yours is worse."

"Cheer up. I'll have tomorrow off once Spencer comes in. I can spend the whole day at home."

"You know I have to work late tomorrow," she whined.

"You've been working late a lot."

"Says the doctor who's half-way through his twenty four hour shift," she riposted. "You know we're short-handed."

"Same story everywhere, Zoe," he sighed.

There was a mutual sigh of exhaustion over the line. Ethan felt his weary limbs ache more with every passing moment.

"We'll figure it out. I know we will."

"We will. I love you, Ethan."

"Love you too."

He swiped the phone shut and collapsed on the couch. A couple of doctors stood nearby discussing something. He checked his watch again. Only ten more hours until Spencer came to relieve him. He prayed to every deity he knew of that he was on time.

Given a moment of peace, his mind wandered. He held up his phone and swiped through his photo gallery. There were innumerable pictures of himself and Zoe. Some were at coffee shops, bistros, art galleries, malls and movies. Her wavy brown hair and megawatt smile shone in all of them. She looked beautiful, the same way she came to him every time he closed his eyes.

He opened the album of their weekend getaway upstate. It had been well over a year back, when he still had the time to make plans. Each photo had an endearing memory for him. Ten years' worth.

Ethan Cole and Zoe Moreno were high school sweethearts. Lab partners in biology class to co-hosting the school fund-raiser, they did everything together. The clincher came when he, all of eighteen years old, proposed to her after graduation and she said yes.

Eighteen-year-olds are never known for making smart decisions. When they decide to marry, it invariably ends in flames sooner rather than later. Ethan had a sly suspicion his friends had a pool going on how many months would Zoe stay as Zoe Moreno-Cole.

They had big plans. Too big for their small town. They made the trip down to New York City to start a family. Ethan got his degree and then worked overtime at a community clinic to put Zoe through nursing school. Zoe did her best to turn their awful two-room squall into something resembling a home.

Even at the worst of times, and there were some really bad times, they always knew they had each other. That counted for a lot more than how much they brought home. The memory of her smile, the sound of her laughter and the warmth of her touch -- they kept Ethan going.

His phone buzzed and he recognised a friend calling him.

"Hey, Brian. What do you want?"

"The ER just got a lady in a bad road accident. She has severe internal injuries. Her kidneys are on the verge of shutting down and our nephrologists are on vacation. The replacements aren't board certified."

"So call one of them in."

"They're both out of state and won't be able to get back before tomorrow. We need to operate on her tonight or she'll die of renal failure. Do you have a free OR and a surgeon?"

"I'll have to check, but I think so."

"Can you do me a real solid by taking this one? I'll have an ambulance drop her at Presbyterian within the hour."

"I'll have to talk to my boss," Ethan said, putting his hand through his unkempt hair. "Fine. Send her over. I'll see what I can do."

"You got it, Ethan. I owe you one."

"Then give Zoe a break. With all the overtime she's doing, I barely get to see her any more."

There was an awkward silence over the phone.

"What overtime? Zoe doesn't get any overtime?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, man. I have to verify the overtime logs myself before they go to payroll. I'd know if she was working late."

"I'm sure you missed something. Maybe she's doing it off the books."

"The nurses' union would have my ass if I tried something like that... and I'm fond of my ass."

"Just recheck it once, will you?"

"You got it, and I'll send you the patient right away."

"I'll have a team waiting."

Ethan dropped the call and thought it over. It made no sense. His tired mind refused to dwell on the topic any longer, so he got up and went about arranging for an OR and a team of surgeons.

"There must be a mistake with Brian's record-keeping."

The alternative never even crossed his mind.

* *

The doctor who relieved Ethan was half an hour late. Ethan cursed his tardiness the entire duration of the subway ride to his apartment. Other tenants gaped at his dishevelled appearance as he dragged himself to the elevator, but he was too tired to care.

By the time he reached his door, he was running on caffeine fumes. He almost crawled over to his couch and fell asleep. It was more comfortable than the one in the hospital break room.

Their apartment wasn't too bad; modest, but a big step up from their first place in East Harlem. To be fair anything could beat that spider-infested grotto sans running water. Thankfully, the worst was truly over. They would stay here for a while more before finally buying a house.

Ethan woke up to the dual sensations of warmth and wetness. He groggily lifted his head to discern the shape of his wife kneeling at the edge of the couch. Her lips were wrapped around his hardening dick and she moved her head back and forth, taking most of him.

"Sleep well?" Zoe asked with a grin.

"Yeah, but I woke up better. When did you get back?"

"Just now. I saw you passed out on the couch and thought 'what would be a nice way to wake my hubby up?'"

"You get points for imagination," Ethan said, stroking his fingers over her scalp.

"Now how about you sit up so I can do this properly."

Never one to turn down a spectacular blowjob, Ethan hurriedly turned himself the right way up and reclined into the pliant leather. Zoe resumed her task, her hand clasping his shaft and jerking him off into her mouth. Her lips gently suctioned the head. One of her hands crept down and began caressing his sac. She held the shaft upright and lowered her lips to his balls, slurping over each of them in turn and sucking them into her mouth.

Ethan felt rejuvenated. The tiredness of his body was replaced by a flood of pleasure. Zoe's tongue worked its way back up his shaft, the tip grazing along the fleshy sides all the way to the crown before wrapping itself around it. Her moves were expertly tested; Zoe knew how to coax the most pleasure out of her husband.

He looked down to see Zoe keeping her sultry gaze riveted on him as her head bobbed on the length of his member. Ethan held her head in place and lifted his hips off the couch to push as much of himself into her mouth as he could. She encouraged him by taking his hardness all the way to the back of her mouth and into her throat.

Ethan let the rush of pleasure consume him. His balls tightened and he unloaded himself inside Zoe's mouth. She swallowed all of it greedily before licking his cock clean. She sat back on the carpet and looked at him with a coquettish grin, one he had grown to love more than he thought possible.

"Now, that's one way to wake up," she declared. "Should we eat out?"

Ethan checked his watch, cursing the late time.

"The menu from Szechuan Palace is in the kitchen drawer. Don't order too much. I'm not that hungry."

"But you haven't eaten anything all day."

"I know. I guess I've lost my appetite with all the coffee."

He looked at her disapproving stare for a few moments before sighing.

"I haven't been taking the best care of myself lately, I get that. We both know what we signed up for."

Zoe remained unimpressed. Ethan bent down and kissed her on the lips and forehead tenderly.

"Cheer up. It's only until Ryder and Matthews get back next week. I'll have a lighter load then."

"Fine," she said reluctantly, going to the kitchen and ordering Chinese. "Let's just hope you don't work yourself to death before that. I'll change into something more comfortable."

Ethan surfed a few channels, not finding anything more interesting than tabloid gossip and reality shows. He turned off the TV and considered getting a shower.

"Honey, I've been meaning to talk to you about something. I had a chat with Brian earlier-"

He turned his head and felt dizzy all at once. By

something more comfortable

, Zoe had meant a sheer thong and lacy bra which left very little to the imagination. Ethan went pale when the blood rushed from his head to another part of his body. She put her finger between her teeth and licked the tip of it seductively.

The poor delivery boy from Szechuan Palace rang the bell multiple times before he had to return with the order of food.

It was surely an oversight by Brian. Definitely. Nothing else.

* *

Ethan felt stifled in the tux. The bow had long since tightened to noose-like proportions and his cufflinks brushed awkwardly against his arm every time he moved. Some white-haired man kept droning on and on about the great work the hospital was doing and their future plans.

If death by boredom was possible, he was dangerously close to it.

He noticed a few waiters disappearing down a side exit, presumably for smokes. He took a quick glance around and decided to follow the nicotine slaves out for a temporary reprieve.

It was raining heavily. The roads were mostly empty. Ethan stood under the awning above the service exit, seeing clouds of cigarette smoke swirl around him.

"You want one?"

He turned to his right to see Dr Kowalski taking a long drag of a Camel. She stuck out the open pack for him.

"No thanks. I just came to get away from the insufferable fund-raiser inside."

Callie took a long drag, making the end of her cigarette glow. The rain got heavier, sleets of water lashing the road and walls.

"What do you think?" Ethan asked, fishing out a pendant from his inside pocket. Callie took it and opened the clasp to see photos of Ethan and Zoe in each half.

"Pretty good. Where'd you get this?"

"I had it custom made. There's a place on Lexington which makes special pendants."

"Zoe is a lucky girl," she murmured, taking a long pull. "Wish I was half as lucky."

Ethan put the pendant back in his tux. Callie gave him a long stare, almost undressing him with her eyes.

"I think you should get on the patch," said Ethan, desperate the change the topic.

"I'd go crazy without these," she said, dropping ash onto the pavement.

"They'll kill you."

"We all die in the end, Ethan."

Ethan's contemplation was cut short when his phone rang.

"Hey, Brian."

"Ethan, I checked and re-checked all the overtime logs, the duty rosters and the sign-in sheets. I'm telling you, man, Zoe hasn't applied for or got any overtime in months."

"Just goes to show how sloppy you guys at Montefiore are with your record-keeping. I called her an hour back and she told me she's picked up another shift today."

"That's impossible. I personally made the roster for today... Ethan? Are you there? Ethan?"

The call dropped. Ethan's vision was transfixed on the glass front of the restaurant opposite to him. It was one of those upscale establishments which was way above his or his wife's salaries. The rain made it hard to get a clear look.

He stepped closer, walking out of the cover of the awning and into the rain. All else receded into insignificance as every sense in his body honed in on the single target emblazoned on the glass front of the restaurant.

Mrs Zoe Moreno-Cole, dressed in a svelte, red designer dress sat at the table with another man. A fair man, impeccably dressed and groomed. They laughed and talked animatedly. The rain and darkness obscured Ethan from them, but he could see the couple clearly enough.

Ethan felt sick. His gut turned and his face wrenched at the sight before him. Drenched in the rain, he dearly wished his sight would give out. But they kept showing him the visual of his wife and another man laughing over two glasses of Chardonnay.

He doubled over, feeling torrents of water cascading down his face. Every part of him felt numb. His brain exploded into a bitter-sweet deluge of memories. Somewhere, it had all gone so horribly wrong.

He raised his disbelieving eyes once more to see Zoe and the mystery man share a kiss. Her lips locked onto his. The kiss lasted for the most excruciating few minutes, every detail and nuance of it branded into his memory in indelibly painful detail.

We all die in the end, but some part of Ethan Cole died before the rest.

The road, the hotel, Callie's stare were all dim recollections as he rushed home - or whatever you call the place you share with the woman who betrayed you. He felt viscerally sick. His weary legs barely carried him to the sink before he emptied the semi-digested fund-raiser buffet into it. He sat against the tiled wall, the wetness on his face intermingling with a few tears.

The kiss, the way she tilted her face and accommodated his tongue in her mouth -- all of it came back to him in vivid detail. He got up and wiped himself clean before retrieving a bottle of single malt from the cabinet.

No glass or water was needed. He took a neat gulp and put the bottle down beside him.

* *

"You're still awake!"

Ethan simply sat against the side of his recliner, an empty bottle of single malt giving him company. His tux had become a makeshift rug under him and his shirt had several buttons undone. His tie was splayed askew across his chest, complementing his tousled hair.

All in all, he looked like a rather well-dressed hobo.

"What happened, Ethan?" Zoe asked, concerned. She put her bag down and sat beside him. He sullenly refused to talk.

"The fund-raiser couldn't have been that bad."

He turned his head to look at her with a vacant expression. His glassy eyes stared in her direction at nothing specific.

"If you're hungry, I'll make something. Just give me a minute to change into something more comfortable."

"Her second change of clothes for the day."

So many things swirled in Ethan's head. Regret, bitterness and a profound feeling of hurt. It was all too much for his face to reflect. His gut burned. Meanwhile, Zoe reappeared in a nightgown, oblivious to the bitterness rising within her husband.

"So we had another meeting with the union reps. More of us are getting cut loose..."

He wasn't even aware of her talking. All his life had morphed into one hazy fugue where he didn't know anybody. Everything he knew and held dear was utterly meaningless, reduced to the incoherent thoughts of a man who had the floor ripped out from under him.

"Ethan!"

He snapped out of his reverie and looked at her. She looked like a stranger dressed as someone he once knew.

"Ethan, what's wrong? You haven't said two words to me since I got back."

He got to his feet, clutching the recliner for support. His limbs trembled briefly before he grabbed her shoulders and forced Zoe up against the wall. His already loose pants came undone in seconds.

"What-"

Before she could complete her sentence, Ethan fished out his cock, pulled up her nightgown and thrust into her. His palms were against the wall on either side of her head as he pushed forward, driving his entirety into her wetness.

His mind was too numb to even think of sloppy seconds.

"Ethan! Oh, fuck!"

Ethan's hips moved hard and fast, plunging into her with rapier-like strokes. All the pain and humiliation he felt went into her. His lips twisted, but did not part to say anything.

Zoe craned her neck forward to kiss him. Her lips got closer to his, and he remembered how those lips had been in touch with another man's. That scene played before his mind, every agonising moment of it. They way she tilted her head before her luscious lips latched onto his. Her lips looked so alien, so dirty, so unlike those of his wife whom he loved more than anything else.

He averted the lips and buried his face into her shoulder, choosing to stare at the empty wall rather than into her eyes. His married life flashed before him. He remembered when he worked at the hospital and then overtime at a private clinic to put Zoe through nursing school. He remembered how his limbs ached every night he got home and slid into bed, and he remembered how Zoe turned around and made that ache seem insignificant.