by Whitney G.
“Claire...Please, just—”
“Stop talking to me, Ryan!” I was crying angrily. “You’ve done enough!”
“Five minutes...You can’t give her that?”
“NO!” I took a few deep breaths and tried not to scream. “I have a brand new life now and I don’t need you or Amanda in it for any longer than you’ve already been. You are both fucking scum, and her being in surgery doesn’t change shit about what you two did to me. Just lie to her and say I forgave her, just like you lied to me. It shouldn’t be that hard for you.”
“Listen...” He released his grip. “I know you don’t honestly feel like that.”
I slid past him and ran towards the emergency stairwell, hoping that he would just give up and leave me alone.
I made it through the door and was halfway down a flight of stairs when I felt him grabbing my arm—twisting it harshly.
“Help! Helpppp!” I screamed as loud as I could, but he didn’t seem fazed at all.
Instead he squeezed my arm harder and pulled me close to him. “I’ve changed a lot in the past few years...” He looked possessed, and he was really hurting me. “In ways you can’t even begin to imagine, Claire. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but—”
I brought my other arm up and slapped the shit out of him.
His eyes darkened and he hissed. Shocked, he let me go and pushed me away from him—hard.
I tried to brace myself against the wall, but I couldn’t. I lost my footing and felt myself quickly tumbling, tumbling, tumbling—until I felt sharp pains all over, until everything went black.
Chapter 16
Claire
“Miss Gracen?” A soft voice said. “Miss Gracen? Can you hear me?”
I groaned and slightly opened my eyes, shutting them once a bright light seeped in.
“Do you know where you are?”
I kept my eyes shut. I couldn’t speak.
“Could someone get me a fresh I.V.?” “Leave the monitor alone, please.” “Did she have a cell phone when she was brought in? Anything else besides her ID?”
There were clicking sounds and annoying beeping noises that seemed to get louder and louder with each second.
I felt a sharp piercing pain in my right arm and forced my eyes open to see a nurse pushing a needle into my skin.
The soft voice that had spoken before, spoke again. “You’re at St. Francis, in an intensive care unit. Okay, honey?”
She asked me more questions—something about how I was feeling and if I was seeing in color, but all I could do was wonder about what the hell had happened.
The last thing I heard her ask was “Can you feel this?” before everything around me went black.
**
“Miss Gracen?” That familiar soft voice woke me up.
I nodded and opened my eyes. This time I was able to keep them open and actually see the woman I was speaking to: A petite brunette with a bright red headband and a matching nametag with hearts. Doctor Phillips.
“Can you feel anything right now?” She touched my forehead.
I tried to shake my head, but there was something holding my neck in place. “No...” I murmured.
“Well, good. I’m going to keep you on the morphine drip for a day or two, and then I’ll have to prescribe some pain medication for you to take home. You’re very lucky that you only have a concussion and a few severe sprains.”
“What?” I croaked.
She raised her eyebrow and removed a clipboard from underneath her arms. “You’ve sprained both your ankles, you have a dislocated shoulder—your left one, interior bruising on your back, a severe neck sprain, and a concussion. Not bad for falling down ten flights of steps. Like I said, very lucky.”
I blinked. I was too numb to say something smart to her right now.
She walked around the bedside—where I couldn’t turn my neck to see her, and then she stepped back into my sight and handed me my cell phone. “I had to put it on silent because it kept ringing. Is there anyone you would like me to call for you and let them know you’re here? Your fiancée maybe?” She looked at my engagement ring.
I took my time tapping my screen, typing the words “My daughters...Ashley and Caroline” before holding out the phone to her.
“Okay. I’ll do that right now...” She smiled and scrolled through my contacts. “Hello may I speak to Ashley, please? No, this is...No, I...Your mom is in the hospital, hon. She can’t speak right now but she wants you to know she’s okay...Calm down, calm down...Well, yes... She wanted me to call you and your sister to let you know...St. Francis Hospital, room fifty thirty, east wing. Okay, sweetheart. Goodbye.”
She adjusted my pillow and returned the phone to me. “Anyone else?”
I typed my mother and she called and left a voicemail. After that, I asked her to call Rita—typing “Take over for me this week” as the message I wanted to give. And after I had her call Greg—who apparently had been in the waiting room since I arrived last night, I managed a smile to let her know that was it.
“You don’t want me to call your fiancée?” She cleared her throat.
I looked down at my phone and scrolled through my missed calls: Greg, Greg, Greg, Ryan, Greg, Greg, Greg, Ryan. There were a few calls from my business, but not a single call from Jonathan.
I typed “NO” onto my screen and held it up to her.
“Okay, then...Well, I’ll be back to check on you shortly, Miss Gracen. If you can think of anything else you may want, just hit the blue call button on the remote and one of the nurses will see that you get it.”
I smiled again and she left the room.
I’d heard her list all my injuries, but it seemed so surreal, especially since I couldn’t feel anything. My body was so numb I could barely feel my tongue licking my lips.
Confused, I slowly lifted my right hand in front of my face and stared at the mini gray remote they’d secured in the middle of my palm. There were four buttons: Call Nurse, Television, Volume, & Lights.
I hit the television button and held the lights button until the room went completely dark. As luck would have it, the TV was already set on HGTV and a marathon of one of my favorite shows—Yard Crashers, was on.
I lay there in bed for hours, watching them remodel yard after yard, until I couldn’t hold my eyes open anymore.
**
“Do you think she wants that Jello?” “Probably not...She’s never really liked Jello.” “Do you think she wants that chicken?” “We could just ask the nurse to bring her some more...”
I opened my eyes and saw Ashley and Caroline taking spoonfuls of my green Jello. I tried to sit up, but Caroline shook her head and gasped. “Stop. You’re only going to hurt yourself. They told us you’re not supposed to move.”
I cleared my throat. “When did you get here?”
“Last night. Jonathan flew us in right after we talked to the nurse.” “He got us a room at the Marriott across the street.”
So he knows I’m here and he’s not by my side?
“Oh...” My throat hurt. “Well, that’s great.”
They exchanged glances, and as if they could read my mind, Ashley poured me a glass of water and Caroline adjusted my pillow so I could sit up and drink.
“Grandma’s on her way over, too.” Ashley said. “We all came by earlier today but you wouldn’t wake up...Are you in pain?”
“No...”
“They told us you’re going to have to stay here for a few more days and that you’ll have to wear a sling for a couple weeks.” “They say you’ll be healed in time to walk down the aisle...”
I’m not walking down the aisle... “They told me that, too...”
“They did?” Caroline smiled. “Well, when you get a chance maybe you can explain that to Jonathan. He seems to think they’re lying. He wants them to run every test they have.”
I wanted to laugh, but even that was too hard. And there was nothing funny about Jonathan Statham right now.
; “We’re going to run down to the cafeteria.” Ashley looked into my eyes. “Can we get you anything? Soup maybe?”
“No, thank you.”
“I think we should get her some anyway.” “Me too. She’s probably too tired to realize that’s what she wants.”
They walked out of the room, and before I could turn the lights off, Jonathan stepped inside the doorway.
I looked away and stared straight ahead, pressing the TV button on my mini-remote. I would have rather watched the paint mixing show than talk to him right now.
“Claire...” His voice was low.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t believe he’d ignored all my calls for two weeks, couldn’t believe he hadn’t called after not hearing from me in almost two days.
“Claire, how are you feeling today?” His voice was hoarse.
I turned up the volume.
“You’re not talking to me?”
“I’ve been calling you for two weeks.” I kept my eyes glued to the TV. “I’ve clearly been trying to talk to you.”
I heard him walking closer to me, felt him brushing a hand against my cheek. “I’ve been calling you as well. I called as soon as you didn’t call me on the hour like you’ve been doing... You didn’t answer.”
“No. You didn’t.” I rolled my eyes. “You don’t have to lie. Just admit that you’re fucking selfish and you wanted to continue making me suffer.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I ignored the pain in my throat. “I can understand you being mad about me talking to Ryan. Really, I can. And I am so sorry that I hurt your feelings by talking to him at all. It was a mistake on my part and I shouldn’t have given him a second of my time, but that was last week and you haven’t called me at all this week. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Claire...”
“Even Ryan has called me since I’ve been here—fucking Ryan! And apparently he’s the reason why I’m in here!” I noticed his eyes were blazing. “I haven’t called him back and I’m never going to, but...You haven’t called me since I got here—here in the fucking hospital, Jonathan. I’ve been here for two days and...” I tried not to cry. “You just...Didn’t you think something was wrong when all my phone calls suddenly stopped? Huh? Or are you that self-absorbed to where you can only focus on your anger? Even when your so-called fiancée is in the hospital?”
He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“How long were you going to let me stay at that hotel by myself? How long were you going to keep sending me note-less flowers and ignoring my calls?”
“Claire—”
“You want to know why no-one got their wedding invitations in the fucking mail?” I didn’t care that he was narrowing his eyes at me. “It’s because I didn’t like the goddamn paper invitations, Jonathan. They weren’t us, so I thought I would do something different. I called everyone we invited and told them the date and venue information. I said we weren’t sending out formal invitations, and that they would get something a few weeks before the wedding...I told them not to say anything to you about it because I wanted it to be a surprise...”
“I’m aware of that now, Claire. Just listen to me.”
“No...Do you know how much time it took for me to design five hundred sea hooks? Five hundred sea hooks that’ll form together as one huge sea hook with our initials across the front? Do you know? Do you?”
He sighed.
“As far as our cake goes...” I wasn’t backing down. “I don’t know what the hell happened with that, because I only meant to cancel one of them...And do you honestly think I would wait until the last minute to design your wedding band? Really? I didn’t want to use Valenti’s—I wanted to find a place on my own. But you—you wouldn’t even listen to me. You didn’t even give me a chance...” My voice cracked. “I can’t believe that you’re so selfish...As a matter of fact, I don’t want you here right now. Get out...Tell Greg to come in so I can thank him for being here for me. He’s been in the waiting room since I got here, where you should’ve been.”
There was hurt in his eyes as he tucked me under the covers.
“Get out, Jonathan. I only want to be around people that care right now...”
“I made it to the hospital before you did, Claire. “ His voice was low. “I was waiting on you to get here...”
What? I tried not to look shocked, but I could tell he’d read my mind.
“I was on my way to the Fairmont to talk to you so we could make-up because....Being without you—whether I’m mad at you or not, is still unbearable...I was twenty minutes away when I got a call from my security team telling me that you’d been pushed down the steps.”
“I don’t have any missed calls from you.” I said flatly.
“I was using Greg’s phone. He smashed mine.”
“By accident?”
“Greg never does anything by accident.” He rolled his eyes. “I was trying to call a few special people that would beat the shit out of Ryan and dump his body in the sea. He ran off once the medics came, after he told them that he didn’t mean to do it—that it was an accident...”
“I slapped him...I shouldn’t have done that.”
He pressed his fingers against my lips. “I’ve been sitting right over there since you’ve been in this room.” He pointed to the corner, but I still couldn’t move my neck. “I told them I wasn’t leaving unless you were coming with me.”
“You saw me tell the nurse not to call you?”
He nodded and narrowed his eyes at me.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“I was in shock.” He looked hurt. “I couldn’t believe you’d said that—that you didn’t want to call me first.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be...” He brushed his thumb against my cheek, whispering, “I deserved it...I’m so sorry, Claire. This should’ve never happened.”
We stared into each other’s eyes, not saying anything further. Then I remembered something he’d said.
“How did your security team know that I’d fallen down the steps that soon?” I asked. “You had them watching me?”
“Not watching you. Protecting you.” He held my hand. “Apparently they were on a coffee break when Ryan came to see you...”
“Are they always watching me?”
He didn’t answer. He simply ran his fingers against the sling on my left arm. “I’m sorry they weren’t able to prevent this...They should’ve never let Ryan get that close to you...”
“You fired them?”
“On the spot.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ll talk about everything later. Just rest.”
“Could you ask the doctors how much longer I’m going to be here? The numbness is starting to wear off. ”
“A few more days.” He looked saddened. “But let’s not focus on that. I’d rather know why you didn’t show up for our meeting with the wedding planner on Wednesday.”
“I thought the wedding was off.”
“Why would you ever think that?”
“I got a call about you canceling our meeting with the marital attorney, and since you didn’t show up for the final tour of the venue the other day...”
“I canceled the marital attorney appointment because he wanted me to sign a pre-nup, not because I don’t want to marry you,” he said. “And I did show up to the venue—on time. You must have been late because I waited for you for over an hour...” He smiled. “I made a promise to you, and whether I’m upset with you or not, you’re still the stubborn love of my life... Do you still want to marry me, Claire?”
“Yes...”
He kissed my cheek. “Would you like to push the wedding back? Until you feel better?”
“No.”
He raised his eyebrow.
“I don’t want to wait any longer—four weeks is long enough.”
He smiled and kissed my forehead.
“You didn’t change anything in that last meeting with Miss Corwin,
did you?”
“I did actually.” He smirked. “Quite a few things.”
I was alert now. “A few things like what?”
“Like the way the room will be set up, the dance floor inscription, the lighting...”
“So, you pretty much changed everything?”
“I guess so.” He kissed my cheek. “I didn’t have much help that day.”
“Jonathan, you said I could choose everything. I had the perfect ideas for the reception, and for you to go and...I can’t believe you. You just have to control something don’t you?” I groaned and he walked over to turn off the TV.
“I wasn’t done watching that, and I’m not done talking to you about our wedding reception. Can you get her on the phone so she can explain what you changed and I can make sure it all matches?”
“No.” He hit the lights.
“Can you at least tell me the specifics then? It’s not that I don’t trust your taste but—” I felt his lips covering mine—softly, tenderly, as if he wanted to be as careful as possible.
“Go to sleep, Claire.”
Chapter 17
Claire
Two weeks later...
I walked across the room slowly, ignoring the faint pain in my right foot, pleading with my body to keep moving.
So close....so close...
I took five more steps and collapsed onto the sofa once I made it to the other side.
My therapist clapped and handed me a cup of water. “Very good, Miss Gracen!” She was beaming. “That was two hours of walking! You are going to be strolling down that aisle with ease! Has your fiancée been letting you do a little more on your own now when you’re at home?”
No...
I told her yes, but Jonathan hadn’t let me do much of anything. He’d taken an extended vacation from his company so he could tend to my every need. He even had a replica of our bedroom built downstairs so I could get to it—via the wheelchair I didn’t really need to use.
I’d tried to convince him that the pain wasn’t that bad and that I really didn’t need physical therapy, but he refused to listen and he refused to let me go to work. He had my staff come over during the day time and we all worked in various rooms. And whenever I had an appointment with a client, I hosted it outside by the pool.
