Back at the kitchen counter, he started washing peppers, onions and tomatoes. She walked out wearing his oversized white shirt and nothing else. The shirt was transparent enough to reveal her rose-tipped breasts. Droplets of water from her wet hair settled into his shirt, making it cling to her seductive frame. Need shot through him all over again. No matter how many times he had her, it seemed like he always wanted more.
“I’m borrowing this because my clothes are soiled.” She fingered the shirt then inhaled its scent.
“Put your clothes in the washing machine. The dryer will have them dried in an hour.”
She obeyed, while his eyes watered cutting the onions. Setting the pasta on boil, he watched her chuck her clothes into the machine. Her perky butt peeked out from under the hem of his shirt.
He couldn’t resist fondling the rounded mounds of her buttocks, a move that caught her unaware.
“Don’t do that, or you’re never going to finish cooking,” she warned, pressing buttons to get the washing machine started.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Ashley. I lose myself in you every single time. You make me forget everything.” He kissed her left butt cheek tenderly.
“Same here.” She moved away, probably worried that they were going to end up having sex in the kitchen.
She strode across the room to the sound system and put on some relaxing music, then wove back to his side. “Should I help you with cooking? I can chop vegetables fast.”
“No, I’ve got it,” He rinsed the pasta over a sieve and mixed up the sauce that was boiling on the adjacent burner. “Relax. Tell me about your work. How is it going?”
“It’s going on as usual. I have six manuscripts to edit. You know, thinking back, I realized that you always called me and asked me about my work, but I never asked you about yours. So, how is work, Andrew?” She climbed onto the kitchen counter, right next to where his pasta sauce was.
“Not as interesting as you, that’s for sure. When you run a business, it’s always hectic, but that keeps me energized.” he said.
“Do you ever wish you had chosen to do something less difficult?”
“Everything else would have been harder for me, because I wouldn’t have loved it as much. Doing something you’re passionate about is as easy as it gets.”
She dunked her finger into the pasta sauce and sucked it. “You wrote that line in the book, didn’t you? I remember reading it.”
“I might have.”
He turned on the stove and gave the pasta a stir. The smell sharpened around them.
“Talking about work reminds me that your book release is in two months. Pre-orders surpassed one thousand, by the way.”
“Is that good?” One thousand sounded small compared to the numbers he usually dealt with.
“It’s great! With two more months to go, I’m sure that number will shoot up.”
Andrew smiled at her optimism under the shadow of the cabinets and unearthed two plates from the shelves. He poured the boiling fettuccine onto the white ceramic and set the plates down on the kitchen counter. She took hold of both the plates and put them on the table. Then they settled on the two wooden chairs at opposite ends of the table. The distance was deliberate to force them to keep their hands off each other. Not touching her had never seemed like such an impossible task.
She rolled strands of flat pasta on her fork and put them in her mouth. The threads were coated with his ‘secret’ white sauce.
“Hot!” she screamed out after spooning a bit too much pasta into her mouth. She exhaled air to cool her tongue. But it was already burnt.
Andrew leapt to fetch her a glass of water. She sipped it.
“You need anything else?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry.”
She drained every drop of water from the glass, so he brought a bottle from the refrigerator and set it on the table.
“How’s the pasta?” he enquired, a bit nervous. This was the first time he’d made anything for her.
“Does the pace at which I’m eating tell you nothing?” She’d emptied half her plate while his was mostly full.
“It only tells me that you were starving.” he said.
“It’s delicious.” A thread of pasta fell out of her stuffed mouth. “Really delicious. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Mine too.” Something passed between them when she said that. “Oh, I remembered something.”
“What?”
“Do you remember when I told you Carl called me? He said something that I thought you should know. He said he was proud of you.”
Andrew was glad he hadn’t put something into his mouth or he would have choked.
“You’re sure he said that? It wasn’t a misunderstanding?”
“No, he said those words very explicitly. I was shocked too. Maybe he’s had a change of heart.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Andrew tried to act disinterested.
But the perceptible flutter in his chest told him that it did matter. Still, he had to hear it from the old man’s mouth to convince himself.
“It does. If you can set things right with him, your unwillingness to have children might vanish.” She was being exceedingly optimistic here.
“He’s not the only reason I don’t want to have kids,” Andrew admitted.
She picked up and swallowed the last bit of food from her plate. “What else is holding you back?”
Not wanting to discuss his emotional issues, Andrew withdrew and changed the subject immediately. Even despite being dutiful in his appointments with Dr. Clark and doing all the workbooks and stuff, he had not seen much improvement in the symptoms of his anxiety disorder. He had neglected his condition for so long, it had become rooted deep in his psyche. Although Dr. Clark was optimistic about his recovery, he did not expect it to happen in less than a year.
“Weren’t you the one who said to put off thinking about such things until next year?”
She lifted her legs under the table and it shook the whole table. “But we’ll have to face it next year.”
Andrew liked how convinced Ashley was that they would survive the year together. She stated it like it was obvious.
“We’ll face it then.” he said.
“Why not now? I want to know, Andrew. Don’t exclude me from this.”
Immediately his mind jumped to her reaction. How would she react if he told her he was still affected by what had happened and he might never recover? He didn’t want to dump more guilt on her. It was better that he faced it all alone. For now, at least.
“I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”
“Okay, but is this something you can overcome?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re trying?” Her intuition might have caught onto something, because she was asking him all the right questions.
“Trying hard.” he assured.
“Then you’ll do it. You always accomplish what you set out to do.”
Chapter 20
Bella rolled her eyes over Ashley’s newly minted love bite when Ashley sheepishly stepped into Bella’s house. “Somebody’s been getting wild with their ex.”
“He’s not my ex anymore. We’re officially dating.” Ashley informed.
“I can’t believe how quickly you guys move. Last week, you were enemies, this week you are lovers. It’s impossible to keep up with you two.” She waved her hands.
“Can’t help it. Law of attraction.” Ashley swooped down on Bella’s neck with her arm.
Bella laughed, then showed Ashley the hill of clothes she had accumulated on the couch.
“I pulled out all my high-necked clothes for you. Though I doubt anything has a neck that’s high enough to cover that thing. It looks big. And red. And like you had a ton of fun getting it.”
Ashley had trembled with pleasure every single minute his tongue had been on her neck. Of course, it wouldn’t appear that way to others, but to her it was a mark that multiplied her allure.
Bella tied up her hair into a practical ponytail before shifting some junk off her couch to make space for Ashley to sit.
“It seemed like a good idea when he was doing it.” Ashley sifted through the assortment of sweaters, tops and dresses. Bella and she were not close in size, but after she’d looked through stores and found nothing, Bella was her last resort.
“You can always try masking it with makeup. Or stick a Band-Aid there and tell everybody you got hurt.”
“I’ll have to do that, won’t I?” Ashley sighed.
“Tell me where you’re at with Andrew.” Bella leveled her gaze onto Ashley when she occupied the couch. “Do I need to start getting in shape to be bridesmaid again?”
“Not until next year.”
“So you’re going to marry him again?” She knew Bella was trying to take this well, but the sarcasm in her voice resisted.
“He asked me to, but I told him to wait for a year and solidify our relationship first. I am not going to rush things this time.”
Bella’s backbone sank deeper into the upholstery. “Wow, you guys are on a different level. Most girls struggle to get a proposal from a guy they’ve been dating even after five years, but he proposed to you within a day?”
“It just happened. It wasn’t a proper proposal or anything.” She said that to make Bella feel better.
Bella had dated Bryan for four years without ever getting an inkling of a proposal. Bella and Ashley’s weekly dialogue had often revolved around Bella’s excited dreams of her grand wedding at that time. Bella had gone as far as dropping out of her PhD temporarily to move to LA with him, so that he didn’t hold back on proposing to her because of her education. That had been the tipping point. When she’d returned, she had been thinner, unhappier and no closer to getting a proposal.
Then, when a photo of Bryan doing his naked supermodel girlfriend in broad daylight had been stamped across the front page of every newspaper, her fantasies had crashed and burned.
The incident had caused Bella severe embarrassment, though the worst had been mitigated by the fact that Bryan had been dating her secretly, so at least she didn’t have to face the media circus.
“But something is better than nothing.” The underlying bitterness was something Bella couldn’t help. Though she had to a large extent overcome Bryan’s betrayal, she still couldn’t help at the bursts of anger that sometimes flared at the mention of him.
Ashley rubbed Bella’s shoulders. “Bryan isn’t worth getting worked up over, Bella. You shouldn’t let him do this to you.”
Bella shrugged. “Yeah, I know. I’m really happy for you, Ash, despite how contrary I sound. And a bit worried too. I know you decided to take Kat’s advice and be brave, but there are limits to courage.”
“I’m not expecting a walk in the park. There are still issues between us and there will always be, until the day we die. But we have decided to work them out one by one.” she said.
“That’s mature.” Bella stretched out her legs.
“Do you want to come along for his book launch on the twelfth? I think he’ll be happy to see you.” Ashley asked.
Bella nodded. “Yeah, I need a change of scenery too. I’m getting tired of looking at Joe failing dates.”
“Has nobody clicked for Joe yet?” Ashley asked.
“Nope. I wonder what goes wrong every time. Why are women so indecisive?” Bella gazed at her television.
Ashley clutched her stomach when a sudden bolt of ache hit it. “Argh!”
“What happened?” Bella’s attention moved to her in an instant.
“Nothing. I just felt something in my stomach. It’s gone now, I think.”
Another bolt shocked her, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t want Bella to worry. Ashley peeled herself away from the couch. It might feel better once she got home and slept it off.
“It’s time I stop procrastinating and started reading the manuscript I was supposed to be reading. Bye, Bella. Thanks for trying to help me.” The two huddled together in a hug.
“Any time.”
***
Today was the day.
The day when months of hard work would see the light of day and be judged. Twelfth of November. It was the day of his book launch.
Anticipation gathered like a knotted spiral around Andrew’s lower belly as he stood outside the glass doors of the Barnes and Noble bookstore, which was lined with copies of his autobiography. He pressed the invisible creases on his coat away with his palms, reacting to his obsessive need to get things right.
His stomach rumbled when he spotted the crowd gathered inside the Barnes and Noble bookstore that was hosting the launch. A large poster of a grayscale headshot of him, which was also on the book’s cover, was pasted onto the door. It made him nervous, to see himself in a picture like that.
Andrew wasn’t worried about book sales per se, since pre-orders had already shifted the book to a respectable position on the bestseller charts. What he was worried about was the reaction from the media.
He had no doubt revealed a Pandora’s Box of information regarding his competitors, his colleagues, his company and his views on various contentious social and political issues. He expected those views to be challenged, contested and criticized. So far, he’d stayed away from any attention of the unwanted, vicious kind and he wanted to keep it that way, especially now that Ashley was in his life.
He had barely taken his first step into the bookstore when his phone buzzed. It was a number he didn’t recognize. Usually, he blocked such calls, but any voice that could offer a brief distraction from the impending book launch was welcome today.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Bella.” Her gasps filled the line.
She was the last person he had expected to receive a call from, though he was glad she had called. He still had to thank her for making him see sense.
“I’m so grateful that you called me that day. Really helped me get my act together—”
“Andrew, something horrible happened.” Bella’s voice was steady, but that didn’t reassure him in the slightest. Bella could remain calm in the face of a nuclear disaster. “Ashley’s in hospital.”
Anxiety submerged him before he could string together a single sentence. His nerves, entering panic mode, initiated their rehearsed drill of shutting down and quitting on him. Not now. Not when he still had to hear the rest of it.
“Ashley burst her appendix and she’s having surgery right now. Lincoln Memorial Hospital. Can you get here fast?” Behind Bella, he could hear sirens. No, not the sirens.
“I… have… a book launch.” The tightening of his Adam’s apple made every syllable an uphill climb.
“Oh, I remember she said that. Be here as soon as you can. I’ll stay with her through the night. Kat’s coming soon.”
Thank goodness Bella was with her. In his current situation, Andrew doubted he could get back home safely, let alone to the hospital. But for Ashley’s sake, he would at least try.
Hopping back to his car, he stepped on the accelerator with turbulence running through him. He had to be there this time. He couldn’t disappoint her after she had given him another chance.
Throughout the drive, he tried to take his mind off the thought of how she would be doing. The last thing he needed was an attack and an accident. It was only the burning desire to see her face, hold her hand that kept him pushing towards the destination. In his muscles, he already felt the weakness, the fear, the hysteria beginning to spread its numbing claws.
The building of Lincoln Memorial Hospital floated in the distance. Leaving his car in the parking, he shuffled to the entrance as fast as his legs would carry him… and froze.
“Sir, please move,” the paramedic screamed, carting the body of a woman.
Blood. Through a thin tube, blood was being fed to her.
In a flash, his knees gave out. His whole body convulsed. No. He tried to block the nightmares, he tried to strengthen his walls. Dr Clark
’s words, which had seemed so easy to follow in the clinic, scattered like pollen grains in the wind. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to do. Deep breaths… his throat was as good as a blocked drain.
Noticing him disintegrating, a nurse rushed to his aid.
“Are you all right, sir?” she questioned.
“Ugh…” It wasn’t possible to squeeze out any words. He hoped that she, with her vast medical knowledge, would understand. “Xanax.”
His hands were cooperating, so he threw his wallet at her. She gave him a puzzled stare, but she opened the wallet and found the tablets inside. He always carried those with him. He couldn’t afford to go one day without them.
She ran in to bring him some water, then came back in a matter of minutes before a crowd gathered around him. After the tablets were in his stomach, he breathed slightly easier. But not easy enough to attempt going back in.
He rammed his fist against the asphalt in frustration. This was so pathetic. The one moment that he needed strength for was the one moment he lost to weakness. Negativity filtered into him. Andrew wondered whether his battle with this disease was ever going to end.
Ashley deserved better than him. No matter how good it felt in her arms, in her body, against her lips, she was like the strength he so desperately needed now—eternally out of reach. The cycle of hurt and betrayal was repeating itself again.
“You should get looked at by the doctor. It could be something serious,” the nurse suggested.
“I can’t go into hospitals. They make me panic.” He held onto the glass of water.
She left him alone at the entrance. Motor movements returned slowly and his first instinct was to make his way back to the parking.
He tried to regain control of his shocked nerves in the car.
Hours passed with barely any improvement in his condition. Realizing that proximity to the hospital was not doing him any favors, Andrew drove out to a spot away from the hospital before he pushed the brakes.
He threw his head back against the headrest of the driver’s seat, a groan of remorse the only sound in his car.
He had failed her. Again.
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