Bound for Nirvana

by Kendra Leigh

  “Congratulations, both of you. You deserve to be happy.” Richard shifted, coming around the back of Ethan and hugging me tightly while Veronica embraced her son.

  “I’m thrilled,” she squealed with genuine happiness. “Absolutely over-the-moon, thrilled.” She moved to me, her eyes shiny with emotion. “Your mom would be so happy for the two of you; and a moonlight proposal on the lake—how romantic.” Her words sent a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering through my belly. It was still so surreal to talk about my mom with someone who knew her. “I expect you’re both famished. Come, you must get some breakfast.”

  “Oh.” I glanced down, suddenly remembering my inappropriate attire. “I should go and get dressed first.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, tugging me toward the dining room. “You’ll do fine as you are. We’re all family now, after all.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and stared at her, and then suddenly I was flinging my arms around her neck. “Thank you. You have no idea what that means to me,” I whispered.

  Her fingers closed around my chin and as she pinched it affectionately. She tipped me a barely perceptible wink. “Oh, I think I do.”

  Ethan smiled at his mom, his eyes filled with warmth and appreciation, and then he took my hand, grazing the back of my knuckles with a kiss. “Let’s eat.”

  Damon and Abby arrived mid-morning, both seemingly unsurprised, but thrilled with our announcement. They exchanged looks with Ethan that left me wondering if they’d colluded with him in his plan to propose.

  “I guess this leaves you well and truly off the market now, Angel,” Damon said with his wry, roguish grin. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover, but…”

  “Suck it up, Damon,” Abby said, pushing her brother out of the way to give me a hug. “Ethan got there first. You’ll just have to learn to deal. We get her as a sister and that suits me fine.” She squealed and rubbed her hands together, Abby style, as I warmed beneath her sentiment.

  “S’okay, I know when I’m beat,” Damon teased, hugging his brother. “I’m safe in the knowledge that if we’d traded seats that night you first met, it would be me who’d got the girl.”

  Everyone laughed, but Ethan took the opportunity to fold his arms, his expression one of smug jubilation. “No, I think you’ll find Abby’s right. I got there way, way before you, Bro.” He hitched a sardonic brow. “Twenty-nine years, in fact. There’s only ever been one man for Angel. Me.”

  I grinned at his self-assuredness while both Damon and Abby looked on in confusion.

  “Why don’t we go get comfortable in the summer room,” Veronica tried to smooth the way, linking arms with Abby and laying a hand on Damon’s shoulder. “Maria’s made us coffee. Ethan and Angel can explain the whole story.”

  Over an hour later, we’d conveyed our story and shown Damon and Abby the photographs of us as children.

  “Well, I for one think it’s the most romantic thing I ever heard. I can’t believe you’ve known my mom, dad, and Ethan longer than I have,” Abby said. “In fact, I’m the only one of the family who hasn’t known you practically your entire life.” She pouted childishly. “We have so much making up to do.” She spoke as if she’d just discovered I was a long lost sister. I grinned and squeezed her arm affectionately.

  “I can’t believe neither of you can remember,” Damon added, bemused. “I wouldn’t have forgotten Angel if she’d been my Cinderella.” He continued to poke fun at his brother and the photograph he’d found highly amusing.

  “It was a tricky time for both of them.” Richard winked at me in a gesture of support. Not wanting to rake through the distressing elements of the story, we’d decided not to go into any detail about the accident and everything that had happened to me after they’d left for London. We’d stuck simply to the history of our mother’s close friendship, and the exceptional bond we’d formed as a consequence.

  We ate a wonderful Sunday lunch, listening to tales of Richard and Veronica’s extended vacation; the places they’d visited and the people they’d met. Richard was hilarious, filled with amusing anecdotes and subtle, affectionate digs to his wife about her constant fussing over him.

  “What I wouldn’t have given to have been around that boardroom table when you closed that deal with Valiente and Sloane. I’ll bet you wiped the assholes’ smug grins right off their—”

  “Richard!” Veronica scolded. “I told you, no business talk today. The boys have got it all in hand. Think of your heart.”

  “You see!” Richard exclaimed. “The woman never lets up.” Everybody burst into laughter, gradually calming when Richard continued. “But she’s right, of course. You boys have done an outstanding job, I’m proud of you both. And although it is a little ahead of what I had planned, it is time for me to hand over the reins.” He raised his glass. “Ethan, Son, I threw you in at the deep end and at such a young age when we had to return to New York. You didn’t only keep things ticking over in London, as I expected you to, but over the years you led the business in an efficacious, strategic direction. You proved to be a man of diverse proficiency, expanding the business portfolio, multiplying turnover and profits; you excelled in everything you touched. You’re a go-getter, Son. With you at the helm and your brother firmly by your side, I have every faith that our empire is in the right hands. The future is bright for all of us. To the new CEO of Wilde Industries—to Ethan.”

  “To Ethan,” everyone cried in unison as they drank a toast to him.

  Pride seemed to radiate from the entire family, every one of them beaming their support and encouragement in Ethan’s direction. “Thanks, Dad. I won’t let you down.”

  I reached for his hand and squeezed it tight, feeling suddenly honored to be coupled with such an extraordinary man. A man that, one day soon, would become my husband. He gazed at me, his teeth tugging on his lower lip in a humble smile. We leaned toward each other simultaneously, and conscious of our audience, exchanged a chaste kiss.

  “Aaahh.” Abby clutched her heart theatrically. “You guys are soooo sweet.”

  Damon threw her a look of disgust, his mouth opening to say something, no doubt, quick-witted.

  “Which brings me to my next toast,” Richard continued before Damon could speak. “Something which could only be described as fate and good fortune has brought Angel back into our lives. She has lit a fire in the heart of our son, and one glance at the two of them tells you they’re destined to be. No man is of use to this world without the love and support of a woman—I know this from experience. We want to welcome you back into our family, Angel.” He raised his glass again. “To Angel.”

  “To Angel,” they chorused.

  The sentiment was so overwhelmingly touching, I felt a physical flipping sensation in my belly and tears sprang unbidden to my eyes. It was my turn to receive a supportive squeeze of my hand as Ethan lifted it to his lips.

  My lips parted, my mind searching for the appropriate words to express my gratitude, but the emotion inside me drowned out any hope of a response. Detecting my struggle, Richard winked in my direction before raising his glass yet again. “And finally, I’d like everyone to join me in wishing Ethan and Angel our love and congratulations on their engagement. To the happy couple.”

  “To the happy couple.”

  “Jeez, Dad, save something for the wedding,” Damon mocked. “Speaking of which, when is the big day?”

  “Oh, yes, when?” Abby clapped her hands together. “Make sure I have plenty of notice to get the right dress, oh, and please, please let me help with yours, Angel. Oh, how I love a big white wedding. How many bridesmaids were you thinking of…”

  “Abby, slow down.” Ethan shot me a worried glance as he took in the look of horror on my face. “Angel and I… well, we were just gonna take off, do it quietly, just the two of us.”

  “Are you kidding?” Abby’s excited face morphed into one of complete devastation. “I won’t get to see you married? But you can’t—”

  “Abby!” Veroni
ca scolded her. “If that’s what Ethan and Angel want, it’s up to them. It’s their wedding.”

  The effort Veronica had gone to in order to sound genuine was unmistakable, but the look of disappointment on her face betrayed her. The look on all their faces was as if we’d just thrown their warm wishes back at them. Of course they wanted to see their son, their brother get married.

  “Gotcha! Of course he’s kidding.” The words tumbled errantly out of my mouth without prudence or consideration to the consequences. I glanced at Ethan’s expression, a blend of relief, gratitude, and concern etching his handsome features, and I knew instantly it was the right thing to do. “We wouldn’t dream of getting married without you there. Would we, E?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me in question, and I responded with a single but irrefutable nod. I would need to convince him quickly that it was what I truly wanted, or I knew he wouldn’t agree.

  He hesitated before answering, finally deciding to err on the side of caution. “We haven’t had the chance to plan any details yet.” A quick glance at Abby said this wasn’t enough to placate her. I turned a beseeching look on Ethan and saw his jaws muscles flinch under duress. Then his features softened. “Don’t worry, Abs, we’ll try and make sure you’re there—all of you. But get all ideas of a big fairy-princess wedding out of your head. It’s going to be small and intimate.”

  She pouted, looking reasonably mollified. “Okay.”

  “Good,” Ethan said, resolutely drawing a line under the conversation. “Now that’s sorted, I’d like to make a toast. To Mom and Dad—Good to have you home.”

  The diversion seemed to buoy everybody up, and I gave Ethan’s knee a discreet, but grateful squeeze under the table. Before long the conversation had moved on, Ethan and Damon engaging in their familiar banter, which to my amusement Richard took great enjoyment in contributing to. The three of them had us rolling around in stitches with their swift and witty repartee.

  For as long as I lived, I would never forget how I felt right at this moment—pausing amid the chatter and laughter to silently marvel at this most wonderful family. To admire the way they related with each other, exchanging looks and casual, affectionate remarks. But most of all, I would never forget how they effortlessly, intrinsically included me, and for the first time in my life, I was part of a family.

  As Ethan packed the car up later, I stole into the summer room and spying the blue velvet photo albums on the table where we’d left them earlier, I sat down to have a final look.

  Flipping carefully through the pages, my gaze halted on one of my mom and me, when I was about four years old. The resemblance between the two of us was indeed uncanny, the same hair, the same dimpled smile, the same glint in our eyes as we giggled at something funny off screen. To think I’d wondered what she’d looked like all these years, and all I had to do was look in the mirror. In the image, I was sitting on some grass, my mother behind me, enveloping me in a tight, protective bear hug, and I could almost feel the warmth of her against my back, the security of her hold. Reaching down, I traced my fingertips over the image of my mom’s face, a sudden rush of emotion burning the back of my throat. Strangely, though, it wasn’t sadness I felt when I looked at her. Instead, I felt sort of… unburdened. Suddenly at liberty to love her. Almost as if, until now, all the feelings I had for her had been encumbered by guilt, suffocated by it. I didn’t believe I’d had the right to feel them, so I’d set them aside. The result was that I’d forgotten how good they felt.

  “I love you, Mom,” I whispered.

  A slight movement in my peripheral vision caused me to lift my head and find Veronica watching me from the doorway.

  “Why don’t you take them with you,” she nodded at the albums.

  “Oh… um… I couldn’t. They’re yours.”

  “Nonsense. It’s not as though they’ll be leaving the family. And if they’re the only way I can give you back a part of your mom, then it’s a no-brainer. They’re yours. I’ll have Richard get a box.” She made to leave the room, decision final.

  “Veronica, wait.” I stood, making my way across the room toward her. She waited, her smile patient and undemanding. “I can’t thank you enough for this weekend. Not just for the photos, but for everything. To finally have the image of her clear in my mind is… priceless. To listen to your stories about her, and about Ethan and me as children, well… you’ve given me a past. You’ve given me memories. I’ll never forget how welcome you and Richard have made me feel, and how you’ve made me feel worthy of your son’s love. And it’s Ethan I want to thank you for most of all. Until I met him, I had no conscious experience of love, but God it was worth waiting for.”

  Veronica smiled affectionately, her hand reaching to stroke my cheek. “Angel, your likeness to your mother extends much further than a striking physical resemblance. Just like her, you are very easy to love. Having you here, back in our lives, has been like having my best friend returned to me. Your personality, your sense of humor; you’re practically a carbon copy of her. And as far as Ethan is concerned, it is I who should be thanking you—I couldn’t have hoped for anyone to love him more.”

  It wasn’t until we’d waved goodbye and I’d settled into the luxury of the Bugatti that I realized how tired I was. The weekend had been profoundly emotional in many different ways and for many different reasons, but God, emotion was exhausting. I remember gazing wistfully out of the passenger window, basking in the last remaining moments of outer-city peace before closing my eyes. The next thing I knew, Ethan was shaking me gently by the shoulder, his sparkly, but tired, blue eyes gazing lovingly into my chocolate ones as he roused me from my slumber.

  “Wake up, sleepyhead. We’re home.”

  A quick peek told me we were parked in our designated spot in the garage at the apartment, and I felt decidedly grumpy. “No.” I pouted my lips sullenly and stretched. “I don’t want to be back in Manhattan. I like it there at your parents’ place with the garden and the peace and the space and the moonlit lake.”

  “Mmm, I know, especially the lake,” he muttered languidly.

  “Yes, especially the lake.”

  “Would my Cinders like me to carry her?”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?”

  “Because then you’ll have to come back down for the bags, and I want you to take me to bed.”

  His eyes brightened becoming suddenly alert. “I like your thinking.”

  “To sleep,” I said to avoid ambiguity.

  Ethan narrowed his eyes, his lips puckering into a scowl. “I don’t think so, moody. We’re going to have a nice hot bath, with a cool, crisp glass of wine.” He licked his lips. “And then I want to taste your delectable pussy before I fuck it. Then I’ll put you to bed.”

  Fatigue and grumpiness dissipated instantly, replaced with a sudden yearning ache as the muscles of my sex slowly clenched and unfurled.

  His eyes searched mine, darkening as he correctly interpreted my response to his carnal words. His hand reached over the center console to my knee, disappearing under the hem of my caramel sweater-dress and up toward my panties. For a few seconds, he lingered at the edge of the lace before hooking a finger underneath and lazily stroking the pad of his finger through my sodden folds. I gasped at the sudden contact, watching as Ethan’s lip curled into a knowing smile.

  “So responsive, you dirty girl.”

  I tugged my lip through my teeth provocatively. “What can I say? I like your thinking.”

  We settled back into the bubbles, me lying between Ethan’s thighs as water swished around our bodies, the heat seeping into muscles and bones to ease and soothe. The only light in the room was from the juxtaposed candles lining the shelf, and the effect of the overall ambience was blissfully sedating.

  “Good?” Ethan murmured against my ear.

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  He immersed the natural sponge, allowing it to soak up the water before squeezing it onto my chest, creating a shiny rivulet to trick
le down between the hollows of my breasts. “You tired, baby?”

  “Exhausted. I don’t know whether you’re aware, but I was coerced into having moonlight sex in the dead of night—twice. And then as if my adrenaline levels weren’t high enough, the perpetrator went on to propose. I’ve been weighed down with this tremendously heavy rock on my finger ever since.”

  Ethan laughed. “Ugh, sounds draining.” He kissed the top of my head as I began to smooth the bubbles into the dampened hair of his toned thighs. “You’ve had a very emotionally charged weekend, baby. It’s bound to have taken it out of you. Can’t have helped having a nightmare.”

  My fingers froze as an image of the dream flashed through my mind. Suddenly my skin seemed to tighten, the hairs on my body standing on end, causing me to shudder in response. I inched down a little, so that the warm water rose to soothe the prickle on my skin.

  My reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “What was the dream about?” he asked cautiously. He didn’t usually inquire, accepting that if I wanted to discuss my dreams, I would.

  “Same old.” I shrugged, hesitating for a second before adding. “I think.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I didn’t know quite how to answer, because I wasn’t certain I knew what I meant myself. “I don’t know really, E. Usually I try and make a point of not dwelling on my dreams. They’re so absurd, so disjointed and confusing that it’s sort of comforting because it’s a reminder they’re not real and I can just let them fade. But there was something about this one. I mean, it was the same in that it involved the dogs and the shoes, but it was more… reminiscent. Almost corporeal.”

  At first he didn’t respond, just started with the sponge again, soaking and squeezing, the action clearly helping him to think. In fact, the cogs of his mind were turning so frantically I could almost hear them.

  “What if the dreams are real? I mean in the sense that they’re hinting to something factual. Something that happened which your mind has suppressed?”