by Sasha Gold
We’re having a wedding ceremony here at the house. Emily and George are happy and so is Leah. I’m happy until Leah tells me she’s going back to sleep in her room until after the wedding. Charlotte’s been over a few times to talk about all the arrangements. This was her idea. I’m sure of it. I’ve narrowed my eyes at her a few times but she doesn’t even bother looking repentant. Her look is smug and amused.
We’re having the wedding on the terrace and I’ve only invited a few dozen people. Leah has about the same number and surprisingly Miranda has agreed to come. Dane’s coming too and will give Leah away.
I watch the caterers scurry back and forth in the garden below while the music drifts on a summer evening breeze. Charlotte comes to my side and offers me a glass of champagne.
I stare at the flute in her hand and the other half-empty one in her other hand. “I don’t remember giving permission for champagne to be opened.”
Her mouth tugs downward as Dane comes to her side. He takes her glass and drains it.
“My mother drives Charlotte to drink,” Dane says before he turns his attention towards the horizon.
He gazes out over the panoramic view. Everyone loves this spot. I bought this house one year after my first fight and when the realtor took me to this terrace I knew this was what I wanted. I’m pleased that he’s clearly awed.
Dane and I haven’t spoken much but Charlotte told me he confessed to her and his mother the part he’d played in the fight so many years ago. It’s past history. I only want to think of the future.
I run my fingers under my collar and imagine ripping off my tux. The first thing I’ll do is strip my bride out of her wedding dress. It will be like unwrapping a present. One I’ve wanted for a long, long time.
Charlotte starts drinking the champagne from the full glass I thought she was offering to me. “Your mother is something,” she says to Dane. “She’s over there working on the caterer, trying to get him to lower his prices for a fundraiser for the pediatric wing.”
“It’s like trying to argue with a small Sherman tank,” Dane says.
Miranda leaves the caterer and helps herself to a glass of champagne. This bunch is going to be three sheets to the wind by the time the wedding starts in fifteen minutes.
She approaches, eyeing me warily. “Riley.”
“Miranda,” I say.
“You have a lovely home. Who knew pugilism could pay so well.”
Charlotte whips around to look at me, her eyes wide. She’s sure I’m going to lose my shit, but I won’t. Miranda can say anything she wants. Nothing will spoil my mood today.
“Thank you,” I say.
She’s trying to throw the first punch but she doesn’t know I can bob and weave. There’s no way she can land a blow. I have tactics she won’t see coming.
“How’s your fundraiser going, Miranda?”
Her hard expression softens a little. Not completely, she’s still guarded. “It’s going well, thank you.”
“I heard you had a sponsor reneg.”
Her smile widens a little. “I did, but then I received a donation from an anonymous donor.”
Dane and Charlotte are talking to each other, so when I lower my voice, I’m certain they can’t hear me.
“I made the donation, Miranda.”
Her eyes flash with amusement. “Leah might believe the lines you feed her, but I don’t.”
“Would you like me to tell you the amount?”
She widens her smile. “You can try, but I should warn you it’s an odd amount.”
She’s enjoying this moment, waiting to see me crash and burn. I don’t know what this woman has against me, but I don’t try to understand these things anymore. Emily and George acted like I hung the moon even when I was a kid with a rap sheet. Some people love you no matter what and some despise you no matter what.
“The donation was for one hundred thousand, two hundred and fourteen dollars.
Her gleeful smile drops and in its place is a look of pure astonishment. The money I gave the hospital isn’t much but it’s an attempt at a peace offering. Not that I owe her one. I’m less concerned with that now and more concerned with moving forward.
“My mother’s birthday,” I tell her. “Mom’s birthday is Valentine’s Day. The first time I ever wrote a check to a charity it was only for two hundred and fourteen dollars. I did it in honor of my mother. Nowadays the checks are bigger but I still add that two hundred and fourteen at the end.”
Her hand darts out and she grabs my forearm, squeezing it before remembering she doesn’t like me and jerking it back.
“I can’t believe it,” she murmurs. “Of all the fundraising I do, that’s my favorite cause.”
“Leah told me that.”
She stares speechlessly.
“I should go, the ceremony will start in a few moments.”
Charlotte calls my name, gives me a stern look and tilts her head towards the other side of the terrace. The minister is already there, chatting with a few of the guests. More people appear in the doorway and are ushered to seats by Sergei and Vitaly.
I wander to the front to find Emily and George. Pops smiles in spite of the suit Emily made him wear. They hold hands like always. Emily is dolled up in a pale blue dress. She looks a little tired and pale and I remind myself they’re both getting up in years.
“Everything looks lovely,” Emily says. “Charlotte and Leah did a great job pulling this together so quickly.”
“Leah can plan any event. It’s pretty impressive to think about how much money she’s raised.”
I’m bragging about her but I can’t help it. She amazes me more every day.
“Can you believe that girl agreed to put up with you?” George says.
George and Emily love Leah. George keeps teasing her about what a cantankerous beast I am and maybe she should look around a little more. Find some nice guy to settle down with instead. Emily fusses at him but he thinks he’s hilarious. George always thinks his jokes are side-splitters.
“You two kids are from two different worlds,” he goes on to say.
I’m starting to think they like Leah more than me.
“How’d you manage to catch such a sweetie-pie?” he asks.
“I kidnapped her, Pops.”
He roars with laughter and startles the women sitting behind him. Emily shakes her head, but she’s smiling too. Both of them stayed here last night and I love seeing them with Leah. We didn’t do much of anything but sit around the table, play cards and talk.
Charlotte pops her head out the door and gestures for me to get in position. I nod to Ivan and he joins me in front of the minister. Music starts, and Leah appears at the top of the stairs on the other side of the terrace. She wears the same dress she wore when she sent me a picture of herself. It hugs all her curves and I hear Emily murmur in appreciation.
Leah comes down the stairs and Dane offers her his arm. He brings her to me. I can tell he’s not totally comfortable with giving her away. Most of his desire to reconcile is so Charlotte won’t kick his ass, but I’ll take it.
The ceremony is a blur. I’m only partly aware of any of the words, but when the pastor asks me if I take this woman, it’s like time stops. The world shrinks and it’s just me and Leah, staring into each other’s eyes. We both say “I do”, and I kiss her gently, cupping her face in my hands.
The audience claps. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a bear hug.
“You’re sleeping with me every night for the next seventy years,” I growl.
“Oh?” she asks playfully.
I kiss her again, wishing I could whisk her away. Her lips are soft, honey-sweet and tempt me to deepen the kiss, but I keep it decent. When we pull apart she smiles up at me, her eyes shining with happiness. I want to keep that look in her eyes forever. If I can make this girl happy it will make everything worthwhile. Every workout with Ivan, every fight with cocky cage-fighters and every public event I’ve pretended to enjoy.
&
nbsp; When I look out at our guests, I dismiss a wave of resentment. For the next few hours, I have to hang around and be sociable, and the idea doesn’t thrill me.
The party gets rolling in no time. Music. Food. Drinks. Miranda sits with Emily and George, chatting and laughing. After the sun sets, workers light lanterns and hurricane lamps. The garden is cast in a soft light and I take Leah into my arms for a slow dance. Thanks to Emily I know how to ballroom dance. She insisted I learn a few steps when I was a kid. At the time, I was certain she enjoyed torturing me, but now I’m grateful.
As the evening wears on, I notice George and Emily aren’t at the party. I head inside and jog upstairs to their rooms. When I bought the house, I set up an apartment just for them and I see the door open.
Miranda and Charlotte stand in the middle of the room. My heart jolts when I see their worried expressions. Emily’s lying on the bed with George sitting beside her.
“I was just coming to look for you,” Charlotte said. “Emily almost fainted outside. We brought her up here.”
Miranda has her phone out. “I think we need to call an ambulance. She’s perspiring and it’s not hot.”
“I’m fine,” Emily says, sounding completely worn out. “I just overdid it a little.”
“Call EMS,” I tell Miranda, crossing the room to Emily’s bedside.
The next few moments blur and all I can do is kneel at her bedside and wait. Sirens blare. Leah talks softly to me but I don’t hear the words. All I can do is watch the paramedics take Emily out of the room and down to the ambulance. When they slam the doors of the ambulance, I’m aware of my own thoughts moving slowly, like I’m drugged or like I’ve been hit on the head.
I can’t wrap my mind around the idea that Emily is in an ambulance. Going to the hospital. She’s been a constant in my life and it’s not possible that she’s sick or hurting. Emily is invincible. I’ve never even seen her cry.
George is frantic, demanding to ride with her, but the paramedics won’t let him.
“She’s never sick,” he keeps saying over and over. Ivan offers to drive him to the hospital.
Miranda jumps into action, taking charge after the ambulance leaves. She goes into the house, returning a few moments later with Emily’s purse. She’s on the phone with someone telling them the details of what happened. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the hospital ER, and she’s giving them a head’s up about Emily.
I’ve always disliked Miranda, but I’m grateful to her now. She’s helping Emily, and me. The woman knows her way around a hospital system. The warmth and concern in her eyes tells me all I need to know. She’s trying to get Emily the best care possible.
Leah appears, dressed in jeans and a hoodie. She grabs the purse from Miranda, takes my hand and leads me to my jeep parked in the driveway. She wants to drive but I won’t let her. In no time we’re flying down the highway.
The hospital is at least twenty minutes away and I’m praying the ambulance doesn’t get caught up in some bullshit traffic, but it’s smooth sailing all the way.
Leah’s trying to talk to me.
“What?”
“You can’t park here. This is an emergency entrance.”
I look around and realize that I’ve stopped in a loading area. My mind is numb and I can barely think straight. I keep picturing Emily and how her face was pale, almost grey. What George kept saying is true. Emily never gets sick. She used to say mom’s aren’t allowed sick days.
“I’ll park somewhere after I hear something from the doctor,” I tell Leah.
She sets her hand on my arm. “Let’s just move it now.”
I pull around to the back parking lot. From a side entrance, a car darts in front of me and I slam on the brakes. Leah’s thrown from her seat and hits the dashboard.
“Shit,” she says softly, putting her palm to her forehead.
“Fuck!”
I pull into a parking spot, jump out and go to her. When she turns to look at me, her face is covered in blood.
This night is turning into a nightmare. I scoop her into my arms and cross the parking lot.
“I shouldn’t have taken my seatbelt off,” she murmurs.
Blood doesn’t bother me. I’ve seen more than my share of it, but I haven’t ever seen Leah hurt or bleeding. I can’t look at her. I need to keep my gaze in front of me. The door to the ER opens and I’m met by two nurses.
They start firing questions at me. Leah’s protesting. She insists she can walk. The way the nurses look at her only makes my rage and fear ratchet up. They take us to a room and I set her down on the bed.
Cold dread pumps through my veins and I find a chair to sit in before I collapse. I sit there, with my head in my hands. Shit, this is what it must feel like just before you faint. My pulse pounds in my ears. I’ve never heard that sound before. Thoughts crawl through my brain and I have the odd idea that my heart is beating for the first time.
Leah’s chatting with the nurses, talking about forehead wounds and how much they bleed. She asks about Emily and one of the nurses comes back a moment later with Ivan. He greets Leah. I keep my head down, sucking in air, like I finished a round of wind sprints.
“Not her heart,” Ivan says. “Just her gall bladder. Probably they will take out in morning,” he says.
“Oh thank God,” Leah says. “I bet George is relieved.”
“Eh, he looks like this one here,” Ivan says.
He crouches beside me, but is silent. He offers no sympathy. His eyes gleam with amusement because, for the last year, I’ve done nothing but give him shit about Sofia, and now he sees how bad off I am. I can take anything, any abuse, but seeing Emily hauled away in an ambulance and then Leah covered in blood must be some new limit I never knew about.
“I’ve never had stitches before,” Leah announces. “This is a first.”
“Just three or four, right at your hairline,” the nurse murmurs.
My stomach heaves. Stitches don’t bother me much. I had over sixty when I had my car accident, but I can’t stand that Leah is getting stitches. What if she’d gone through the windshield? Or Emily? What if it had been her heart?
Ivan pats my face. “Hurts? No?”
I close my eyes. Sweat trickles down my scalp. There’s a strange taste in my mouth and my chest feels like it’s getting stuck with needles. “Some.”
He nods. “It’s good.”
I squint at him. “What the fuck are you talking about Ivan?”
“It’s good to love. Even when…” he taps his chest. “Even when it hurts, it’s still good.”
I groan and straighten. “Right. Thanks Ivan.”
Leah turns to look at me. There’s a small cut on her forehead and I can’t believe all that damn blood came from a cut that’s at most an inch and a half. The nurse has stitched the cut and I feel a little woozy looking at the stitches.
Leah grins. “What a wedding night. We’ll have some stories to tell our kids, won’t we?”
I nod. “I suppose.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leah
Miranda has arranged for Emily to have an extra-large suite so that George can stay with her. She’s pulled out all the stops for Emily and I’m filled with gratitude. Emily, on the other hand, is not. She’s fussing at everyone, but especially Riley. She tells him he has no business hanging around the hospital on his wedding night.
We say goodnight and head home in silence. He holds my hand while we drive. The night is cloudless and a sliver of moon hangs in the sky. Stars blanket the heavens and I wonder what time it is. After midnight for sure.
When we get home I lead him to the bedroom, I help him undress and coax him into the shower. A moment later, I’ve undressed and I step in with him. A glimmer of lust lights his eyes. I love the way he looks at me in spite of everything that’s happened.
“Hospitals are sort of gross.” I take the soap and work up a lather.
He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze wanders down my body, leaving a
trail of heat in its wake. I turn him and work the suds over his immense shoulders and back. His build is heroic. Everything about him is massive and I can’t help but admire the bands of muscles along the expanse of his back.
This is the first time I’ve showered with Riley, and even though I’m doing this to offer some tenderness to him, I’m definitely enjoying skimming my hands along his powerful body.
When I turn him around to work on his chest, his erection brushes against my stomach. It’s clear he’s enjoying it too.
“Does your head hurt,” he asks.
“Not at all. I’m fine.”
He kisses me again and runs his hands down my back. I shiver at his touch. When he breaks the kiss, he washes me, gently and slowly. His gaze travels over me as if he’s studying my features. After he’s done, he pulls me into his arms and we stand under the stream of water.
He’s a big, stone fortress, and I feel like I’m just outside the door, hoping to be let inside.
We get out, dry off and he takes me to bed. Both of us are naked. I know he’s aroused and I am too, but neither of us makes a move to take it further. In the dark, he pulls me close and lets out a deep, shuddering breath. I’m tucked in his embrace and can feel him relax and drift to sleep.
He wakes twice maybe three times to ask me if I’m okay, if my head hurts. If anything hurts. When I tell him that I’m fine, he settles back to sleep with a sigh of relief.
Sometime in the night, I wake to the feel him kissing my neck. He’s crouched over me and he cups my breast with his hand. His touch is potent heat and when he rolls my nipple between his fingertips a moan slips from my lips.
“Leah,” he murmurs. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Riley,” I say on an exhale. The raw emotion makes me tremble and I reach for him.
He kisses me. Not a chaste sweet kiss, but urgent.
Riley has made love to me every night since the fight and we’ve slipped away a few afternoons too. Every time he’s been gentle and tender. The first few times he worried he might hurt me. This is different. He’s not being considerate or mannerly.
