Juliana Ch. 11

She opened the door and walked into the hallway. A cool breeze licked at her skin.

"You wait!" Mei called after her. "You dress first."

But Juliana walked on – straight up and smiling. She carefully placed one bare foot in front of the other, landing on the ball like a ballet dancer.

On her way she saw people – women, one a nurse. They looked, but nobody stopped her. The door to the doctor's office wasn't locked. She stepped inside. Charrier sat behind the large black table; he was talking with Fleming; there were papers in front of them. They looked up when she entered.

"Mrs. Austin," Charrier said, rising from his chair. "Such a delight, but I'm afraid we..."

"That is all right," Juliana said. "I'll wait." She walked over to the stuffed chairs at the coffee table and sat down, sinking into the leather, crossing her legs. Her long nipples stood out; goose bumps covered her skin. The smile never left her face.

Fleming rose from his chair at the table. He collected his papers and left.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Austin?" Dr. Charrier asked, walking over to Juliana. He wore a double-breasted suit in chalk-striped charcoal – very formal. He looked puzzled, his eyebrows knitting into a frown.

"Please," Juliana said, "I have a question to ask, if I may." She re-crossed her legs, not caring that her vagina showed when she did. Charrier sat down across from her. There was a silence while he waited for her to start.

"Yesterday," Juliana began, "my husband left the clinic. I suppose that means you discharged him." She didn't wait for him to answer. "Nevertheless you expect me to go on... servicing. You made me do it yesterday night and today during lunch. Does that mean I haven't yet paid off my duties?"

Charrier's frown disappeared; he started smiling.

"Mrs. Austin!" he boomed, sitting up with renewed confidence. "You have a famously sweet little body and it is always a treat to see it exposed, like now. You also proved to be a quick learner, honing your talents. Your cock sucking abilities are praised highly, and, to quote some of my friends: 'you are a fantastic fuck.'" His smile changed into a chuckle.

"But, my dear Mrs. Austin," he went on, raising both hands in apology, " evenyourmagic tongue and velvet pussy aren't made of gold. You aren't even half way into paying off the cost of the surgery, my dear." Juliana's eyelashes fluttered.

"Halfway," she repeated. Charrier nodded.

"But with a pussy as popular as yours," he said, "you'll be done in three months – easily."

Juliana knew his mathematics were seriously flawed. She also knew that her thinking this was a sign of change. She'd hardly counted the days or weeks recently. She'd just immersed herself, swimming to wherever the hot, intoxicating river took her. She hadn't cared about her life outside, hardly even about her husband.

Things were different, though, ever since she woke up this late morning. She had no idea how to explain it. Her body had taken over ever since she arrived at this villa, and she'd felt... at home in it. But now it felt... it seemed as if she wasn't even in it – as if she was standing next to it, watching. Whatever happened to her body was like a delayed signal, an out-of-sync connection.

"Is that what you wanted to know, Mrs. Austin?" Dr. Charrier asked, leaning forward, both elbows resting on his fat knees. Was this all? Juliana asked herself.

"I need a break," she said.

Charrier frowned again, sitting back up.

"A break?" he asked. He spoke as if tasting the word and finding it rancid. "What is a break?"

"I need to see my husband," Juliana said, crossing her arms and rubbing her shoulders as if she felt the cold for the first time. "He has to know." Charrier frowned deeper.

"But heknows," he said. "He saw." Juliana shook her head no.

"He knows what I did; what I do," she said. "But he doesn't know I do it for him. I have to tell him that."

The doctor rose, carefully straightening his suit.

"It's no use," he said, aligning the chair with the table. "He's a miserable little wimp, but he won't accept it. He's the kind of man who's embarrassed with the idea of a woman supporting him. He calls it pride, I guess. And on top he'll be enraged by the source of your income." Charrier stood before her, looking down, his hands folded before his crotch.

"Mrs. Austin," he said, "Mr. Austin is a very small man with a very big ego. He won't ever forgive you for saving him."

Juliana shook her head in denial again.

"He's not like that," she whispered. "He was very brave last night. It was me who let him down."

Charrier suddenly sank to his haunches; it made his joints creak. He closed his big hands around her face.

"If I let you go," he said, holding her eyes, "what guarantee do I have that you'll return and work off your debt?" Juliana just stared into his eyes. They were dark and liquid; there were little veins in the white.

"You have my word," she said. "And my signature under the bill, remember?" His face softened. Once again Juliana saw a glimpse of someone altogether different behind the fat and the flesh and the thick frowning eyebrows.

"I'll return, Iwill," she insisted. He shook his big head. Juliana reached for it; he didn't withdraw. Her hands closed around his jowls. They felt firm and slick.

"What about the other girls?" she asked. "Ellis? Selena? Melinda? They don't live here. You call them when they're needed. They always come. Ellis has for years now. Why can't I?"

His big hands covered hers, taking them off his face. They felt warm around her chilly flesh.

"They are different," he said.

She waited for him to explain, but he didn't. He let go of her hands and rose to his feet. His face seemed to shut down again. He rubbed his hands, tilting his head while appraising her.

"What if he gives you an ultimatum?" he asked. "Even if he takes you back at all, that is?"

"Ultimatum?" Juliana asked. Charrier spread his arms.

"Well, you know," he said, "giving you a choice that isn't a choice. Telling you it will be all over if you return here." Juliana frowned.

"But," she said and paused. "But why would he do that? We'll still have to pay the bill."

Charrier chuckled; he was all-business again.

"Youarefunny, you know that, Mrs. Austin?" he said. "Funny and naïve."

A cold draft made her shiver; Juliana rubbed her bare upper arms.

"It was you who agreed to the deal," Charrier went on. "It isyourname under the bill. Mr. Austin has no obligations." Juliana stared at him for a while.

"Butheis the one who caused the debt." Charrier again shook his big head no.

"Not really, Mrs. Austin," he said. "He was in a coma, remember?Youmade the decision; you alone."

"Because Ilovedhim! He can't pull out now. I did it because I loved him!" Juliana cried out.

"Loved?" the doctor echoed, emphasizing the past tense. Juliana at first didn't understand; then she blushed fiercely.

"Love!" she corrected herself. "I love him. I'll do anything for him. Idideverything for him and he should know that. He can't leave me now." Charrier chuckled.

Juliana sat and stared, her hands on her knees. She felt shocked by what she'd heard herself say.Loved.It would be easy to shrug it off as being trapped into saying it, but she still wondered why she'd used the past tense.

"I have to go and see him," she insisted. "I'll be back to pay off my debt. Please, I promise."

Charrier didn't answer. He walked over to his desk, turning his back to her. Watching him she thought he picked up his phone. She couldn't hear what he said into it. After a minute he turned towards her, his face unreadable.

"There will be conditions," he said. She rose from the sighing leather.

"Of course," she said, raising her hands and folding them in front of her chest.

The door opened and Fleming stepped in.

"First condition," Dr. Charrier began. "You'll be back tomorrow, 10 a.m. sharp." Juliana nodded.

"Second condition: you'll wear what we give you – nothing else." She swallowed; then nodded again.

"Third condition..." Charrier looked at Fleming; the two men smiled.

"Third condition: your stay here will be prolonged with three more months." Juliana moaned with dismay.

"I thought so," the doctor said, making an irritated gesture.

"Butthreemore months?" Juliana asked. "On top of the three still owed? It isn't fair." Charrier just shrugged..

"Very well, Mrs. Austin," he said, turning away. "You wanted to see him; it's your decision."

Juliana trembled. A number of thoughts crossed her mind, some colliding. Three more months? Alec would never agree. But if she didn't go see him now, everything would be over anyway. A whore he'd called her, and then he left... he really needed to know why she was here. He needed to know she did it for him, to save his life. He couldn't dump her forthat!

"Okay," she said. It was almost a whisper. Charrier turned her way.

"What did you say, Mrs. Austin?" he asked.

"Okay. I'll do it," she said louder.

"Do what?" His smile was insufferable.

"I'll stay three more months," Juliana said, defeated. Charrier didn't let her off, though.

"So that is half a year from now?" he asked.

"Ha-half a year," she agreed.

"You heard that, Fleming?" the doctor informed.

"Loud and clear," Fleming answered.

"Go dress, Mrs. Austin," Charrier said, picking up his phone. "I'll get you a cab."

***

Telling the truth and nothing but the truth is an iconic phenomenon in the moral landscape. It has this ring to it – like 'love conquers all' and 'all's well that ends well.' Instinctively, though, we often opt for the best alternative.

"Why are you here?" Alec said, standing in the narrow hall, looking in. He wore a gray hoody and jeans; the hood covered his skull. His face was narrow and pale.

When Juliana arrived, he hadn't been there. She'd let herself into the apartment. It felt even smaller than she remembered. She took off her coat and walked over to the bedroom. Of course the dress they'd made her wear was tiny, tight and embarrassing; its skirt barely covered her crotch. It was signal red, the same color as her lips and nails, and the whorish heels she wore. A small red clutch contained make up, her apartment's keys and some money.

The bed was a mess. She straightened the sheets and blankets, picking up stray clothes. Then she opened her closet, taking out a long skirt and a sweater. After changing she walked back to the living room, never looking into a mirror. She sat down on the faux-leather couch, waiting. Her fingers traced the worn spots in the cushions.

She'd taken off her shoes, kicking them under the couch. Then she curled her legs under her.

After waiting for maybe half an hour she heard keys rattle in the door's lock. And now he looked at her from the hall.

"So you found time for hubby to fit in between tricks?" he went on. "They call it tricks, don't they?" Juliana rose from the couch, straightening her long skirt. The linoleum floor felt cold to her bare feet.

"Alec," she said while walking towards him. "We have to talk. You despise me, but things are not at as you think; not at all." She reached him and tried to touch his shoulder, but he retreated.

"Come here to lie?" he asked. "What do you think I am?" Juliana pulled back her hand.

"You are my husband," she said in a low voice. "The man I married and the man I love." He winced.

"Love?" he asked, spitting out the word. She nodded.

"Yes," she answered. "I did what I did because I love you more than I love myself." He laughed. Then a frown washed it away.

"Even more than sucking cocks?" She stepped back, blushing.

"I am sorry you saw that," she whispered. He laughed again; it sounded bitter.

"Sorry Isaw?" he asked. "Not sorry youdid?" She looked up and slowly shook her head no.

"Please sit down, Alec. Please."

Juliana walked back to the couch and sat down, again folding her legs under her and draping the skirt around them. Alec turned left and right, closing his hands into fists, shaking them in frustration. Then he followed her, taking the chair opposite from her; the only place left.

"I am sorry for everything, Alec, but I had no choice," Juliana started. He snorted; she held up her hand to stop his comment.

"I found you on the kitchen floor that day; I thought you were dead. The doctors said you had a stroke. You were in a coma. I waited all day in the hospital – alone. I called Aimée, but they were out of town. Then doctors said you would be okay. I was so relieved." She reached out to touch him; he pulled back his hand.

"Then the doctor showed me pictures from a scan. He said the bleeding would go away; it wasn't much. But there was more." She sat straighter, trying to breath easier.

"More," Alec said.

"Yes," Juliana went on. "There was a tumor – cancer." The word hung in the stifled air of the small room.

"Cancer," he echoed. All life had left his voice.

"A small tumor, yes," she said. "They said it might never bother you; or you might die from in a year." Juliana's fingers strangled the fabric of her skirt as she fumbled. She found his eyes and saw the panic. Reaching out she covered his hand with hers; he didn't pull out this time.

"They... ," she went on; then stopped and went on. "They said you should have an operation. They said the tumor should be removed now; later it might become impossible." She looked up from her hands.

"I had to decide," she said. "You were in a coma. I was all alone; there was no one to talk to." Another silence hung between them.

"So I told them to do it. I told the young doctor, Fleming. He said it was a dangerous operation. He said we should not have it done at the hospital; they were not good enough. There was this clinic with a surgeon who was the best. His name was Dr. Charrier; he is famous." Juliana stopped again; Alec kept his silence, but his eyes were everywhere.

"There was a problem, though," she said, resuming her story.

Alec had to clear his throat before talking.

"What problem?" he asked. All his anger seemed to have evaporated.

"We only would be partly insured if I choose the hospital, where the operation would be cheaper, but risky. There would almost be no insurance at all if I choose the clinic; the amount was so big, Alec, it wasridiculous. Dr. Charrier showed me the bill when I visited his clinic. I told him it was out of the question: we could never pay that. Then he said that we could... thatIcould."

Juliana stopped. She looked up again to catch her husband's eyes. Her hands grabbed his. He tried to escape her gaze.

"So Idid, Alec," she said. "You understand? I paid."

***