“Joseph Stewart, Alexandra Miller.”
The old man’s eyes rounded and he waved me over for a gentle hug. When I leaned back, there were tears in his eyes.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Stewart?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Everything is okay. I am losing more and more of my days as time goes by, so I was afraid that when the day came for me to meet the woman that will make it easier for me to leave my Ethan alone in this world, I would already be a complete vegetable.”
I noticed that one side of his face drooped slightly when he spoke and recalled Ethan mentioning that he’d suffered a stroke at some point and time in his life.
“You will never be a complete vegetable,” Ethan reassured, sitting next to him.
“This will only get worse, Ethan,” he replied. “You are a doctor, so you already know that. One day, I won’t remember who you are, ever again.”
Ethan’s expression hardened and fell. I made small circles on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him. Although my mother’s father had developed Alzheimer’s, Gia and I were never really made aware of the severity of his condition. The worse he got, the more we were told to stay away from him. Therefore, we would simply watch him sitting on the porch staring out onto the front lawn. At times he would mumble to himself, laughing out loud as though someone had told a joke, while other times he would remain so still that I’d often glance down at his stomach to make sure that it still rose and fell. After a while, he was taken away. Months later, we attended his funeral.
“So, any embarrassing stories about Ethan when he was a wild child?” I asked, hoping to inject some levity into the atmosphere.
“Every waking moment in Ethan’s childhood was an embarrassing one,” Joseph replied. “Always in trouble at school. He had one teacher, Miss Boatwright, and she was always calling me at work. ‘Mr. Stewart, I can’t handle Ethan,’ ‘Mr. Stewart, please consider switching him out my class.’ He gave that woman such a headache. Never good with women, though. Ethan. He was never good with women. One could say ‘hi’ to him and the boy would turn red as an apple.”
I looked down expecting to find a smile on Ethan’s face, but his focus on his grandfather was keen and fixed. His right knee bounced anxiously and he seemed to be growing increasingly unsettled.
“Never had a girlfriend, my grandson. Just girls. ‘Make sure you are putting a hat on your jimmy,’ I always told him. No babies, so he must have listened. Good kid.”
Ethan’s face fell into his hands and I looked between him and his grandfather, then crouched next to him. “Ethan, what’s going on?” I asked.
He looked at me with cloudy eyes. “Is it me?”
“Is it you, what?”
“I come here and they tell me that he’s having a good day, but then when I sit down to talk to him, I get less and less time with him every single visit. What was that, twenty minutes?”
He pushed himself up and retreated to a corner of the lobby area. Tufts of hair were clamped between his fingers. I soaked up his despair, sharing in the unrelenting sorrow weaving through his veins. Then, everything suddenly came full circle as I realized that Ethan’s grandfather was the only person that had chosen him.
Ethan still wouldn’t share the reason that his mother was in jail, but in his head, whatever she’d done was ultimately her decision to choose not to be his mother. He’d had other family, but his grandfather had chosen to take him in. Now, although he had his grandfather’s physical form, life was still taking him away in a different aspect. It was as cruel as it was unfortunate to be able to touch and hold someone that eventually would no longer know who you were.
Then I, foolish Alexandra, had added insult to injury by telling him that I was making the choice to shuck my family’s antiquated ideologies about men, women, and the “supposed to,” in order to be with him. I’d made such an emotional statement about it in bed in California and in front of the fireplace in Colorado. But, what did I do? Nothing. I reneged on the only promise I’d really ever made to the man I claimed to love — yet still couldn’t say a simple three words to — and it turned out to be the most important promise that I should have kept. I hated myself more now than the static version of Alexandra that I’d been for virtually my entire life.
“E, this has nothing to do with you,” I said, walking towards him.
“Rationally, I know that, Alexandra,” he groaned. “But still…”
“Son?” Mr. Stewart called. “Are you okay, son?”
Ethan turned around, the grey in his irises nearly washed out by the moisture clinging to the whites of his eyes. He walked to something that looked like an iPad in a slender kiosk and entered in a few numbers which brought names onto the screen. After touching a name on the kiosk, a message popped up that said someone would be there shortly.
“We’ll leave after the nurse gets here,” he said, walking back over. “I don’t like to stress him out when he gets like this. Stress isn’t good for the brain or his circulatory system. I don’t want to throw him into another stroke, which isn’t uncommon with vascu—”
I wrapped my arms around him to help curb his nervous rambling and he hardened before returning the hug. I’d already disappointed him enough that day and wasn’t going to add to it by standing across the room watching him nearly ramble himself into hysterics.
A male nurse entered and walked directly over to Mr. Stewart without words as though the situation was a common occurrence. Ethan released me to give his grandfather one last hug, but as he moved to let him go, the old man grabbed his arm.
“You have to give this to my grandson,” he pleaded, extending the book. “It has a secret message inside.”
“Gramps, I’ve told you over and over—”
“No, look.” Mr. Stewart opened the book to reveal a small white envelope. “It is for my grandson Ethan, see? Can you make sure he gets it?”
“He’s been talking about the secret message for a few weeks now,” the nurse said, shrugging. “We didn’t think anything of it because...you know.”
“Can you make sure he gets it?” Mr. Stewart repeated.
“I will,” Ethan replied, taking the crumpled envelope between his fingers. “I promise.”
The old man smiled. “Thank you. You’re a good man. You remind me a lot of my grandson.”
More anguish drew tight lines across Ethan’s face and he waved until his grandfather was out of sight. He then looked down at the envelope and for the first time, I could see what was written on the front: For Ethan. The curly penmanship didn’t look like something his grandfather would have crafted, and my gut told me that a woman had written it. A woman like his mother.
“This is my mother’s handwriting,” he confirmed, trailing his finger over the sealed flap.
“Are you going to open it?” I asked.
“Not right now.” He stuffed the envelope into his pocket and turned to me. “Let’s go so I can pick up my car.”
My heart plummeted. The little bit of forgiveness that I’d been given earlier had only been temporary.
Once again, he started off towards the exit without me.
I sat with the car in park and my hands gripping the steering wheel. Next to me in the passenger seat, Ethan didn’t move. We’d still exchanged no words on the entire drive to the Chophouse parking lot, but I‘d felt him staring at my face from time to time. Now, he looked straight ahead, jaw tight and Adam’s apple bobbing with fury. I knew exactly what to say to him; I just didn’t know how. But, I didn’t want us to walk away from each other upset. I couldn’t lose this man over something as petty as my fears, yet I still needed more time. I needed to steel myself in order to deal with the fallout from dropping an atomic-sized bomb on my family, as well as Roderick. A relationship dissolution of this size would practically spell the end of his campaign, and it wasn’t something that he was going to take lightly. I didn’t dare try to imagine my father’s reaction.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” Et
han said, shaking his head. “Alexandra, you drive me fucking insane. I’ve never wanted anybody in my entire life more than even a tenth of how much I want you. But, I can’t do this shit forever.”
“I know, E,” I softly replied. “I feel the same way. Even now with us arguing like we’re arguing, the last thing I want you to do is step outside this car.”
My words fell on deaf ears. The very next thing he did was push open the door and step out of the car.
I cut off the engine, hopped out, and ran after him. He turned around, caught me in his arms and then swung me around to press me against his car’s exterior. His lips came down on mine hard, angry, and filled with the vigor from the tension that had built between us. I kissed him back with the same fervor, tears draining from my eyes. I tugged at him as though I could literally pull him into my body, fusing our souls together so that he couldn’t ever walk away from me again if he tried. He popped the button on my jeans and I helped him ease the denim down over my thighs. The parking lot was vacant and we were partially obscured by towering oaks, but I probably wouldn’t have cared if we were facing the street during rush hour.
He lifted my legs around his waist and I watched the color in his eyes oscillate between a light, colorless silver and a dark, menacing gun smoke. I held my breath as he entered me, releasing it only when he’d fitted his hips against mine as deep as they could go. His expression softened a bit when the gasp escaped my lips, and he stared at me with unwavering, unblinking eyes. Then, he began driving into me with the same angry force with which he’d kissed me. I grabbed him and tried to pull him deeper, but he resisted and continued to fuck me furiously, never letting his eyes deviate from mine.
I cried endless tears from both the way this man made me feel and the way that I could sense how he felt about me. Was there really anything in life worth more than this? Ethan wasn’t a man who would drag me down the path of damnation. He simply loved me and wanted to be with me just as much as I never wanted to go another day without him. I wanted to wake up next to him and fall asleep in his arms. I wanted to inhale his scent when he hugged me from behind, fresh out of the shower with a towel at his waist. I wanted to make him breakfast and watch the stretch of his shoulders as he seared our dinner over a gas grill. I wanted to see those angry brows, metallic eyes, and heart-stopping smile mirrored on the face of our son or daughter.
My clit throbbed and my nipples tightened. Pressure built inside me and rushed forward towards release. My thighs reflexively began to quiver. Ethan looked into my eyes as though searching every corner of them.
“You’re mine, Alle,” his hoarse voice resonated.
The husky declaration pulled my orgasm to the finish line.
I cried out and he covered my mouth with his. Rapid shots of bliss resonated between my legs and over my body. I released everything that I had, everything that I’d stored, and opened myself up for him. I was taking the biggest risk of my life, but without a doubt, it was a risk worth taking. I’d stepped out of the only world that I’d known and Ethan had been there to help push me out. Without a doubt, he’d be there waiting for me on the other side.
My orgasmic cry suddenly transformed into actual full-blown tears. Babbling, bubbling, ugly tears. I couldn’t speak, my brain temporarily ceased operations, and everything around us faded into a misty silence. The only thing that brought me back was the sound of Ethan’s voice calling my name.
“Alle, baby, what’s wrong? Alle, talk to me.”
“I’m so sorry, E,” I hiccupped, my face a shameless mess.
“Sorry about what, baby?”
I looked up at him. “I love you, Ethan. I’m sorry about earlier, baby, but I love you. With everything I have.”
His angry expression completely disappeared and he grew to his firmest inside me. “Tell me again.”
Each heartfelt declaration of “I love you” was punctuated by the length of his shaft pulsing into me. I continued to tell him how I felt, pressing kisses over every inch of his face until he succumbed to his own quivering conclusion, filling me with his warmth.
He pulled open the back door of his car and we made our way inside. Then, he returned to his place inside my body and pulled me into his chest. I was still crying, but my blubbering had calmed to an intermittent sniffle. However, I was happy. Over the moon happy. I looked up at him and he was smiling. Then, he brushed his lips over mine.
“I love you, E,” I said, my voice even.
His smile got wider and I etched that happiness into my brain. It would be the only ammunition that I would need to protect myself from the assault that was my family.
Chapter Ten
* * *
Roderick Q. Hamilton
I couldn’t believe the evidence that was being presented before me. Although not an ignorant man, I’d been content wallowing in ignorance as long as Detective Stubbs could find no proof that Alexandra had slept with Dr. Stewart. That she’d let another man penetrate her body. Yet there she was, pressed against what I’d presumed to be his vehicle, her face contorted by the summit of passion. She loved him. She fucking loved him. Her feelings for this man were so evident that they could be captured by a photograph.
How in the world had I let this happen? I’d just known that she couldn’t be cheating on me and that there was no one else in the world that she could see herself being with. But, I’d been so far off.
I couldn’t even blame Gia since to blame Gia would be to admit that my power in my relationship had been reduced, which wasn’t something that I was willing to do. Her cheating had been my fault. I was the only person with enough power in Alexandra’s life, outside of her father, to cause her to deviate from her normal behavior. This wasn’t something that she’d done simply on her own.
“Where was this taken?” I demanded.
“Outside of that restaurant. Chophouse,” Stubbs replied. “I couldn’t believe that I’d hit such pay dirt. Never pegged your woman for the type to make love in the great outdoors.”
“Make love?” I clenched my fists. “You think that’s what this is? They’re making love?”
He looked at the photo. “Honestly? Yeah. Everything about the interaction between these two lovers makes me think more ‘couple’ than ‘friends with benefits.’ They’re basically in a relationship.”
I wanted to slice through his honesty.
“And he hasn’t been seeing other women? Nothing to suggest that Alexandra’s an occasional lay?”
“I don’t think he could even if he tried,” Stubbs replied. “He took her to the Briggs-Allen assisted living facility where I’ve verified that he’s got a senile grandfather. Men don’t just take women to see their grandparents unless it’s serious. Parents is one thing, but grandparents is an even bigger deal.”
I shoved away the tablet, the images both repulsing and intriguing. There was a very small part of me that tried to justify that perhaps Alexandra deserved where she believed she’d found happiness, but if Alexandra and I were to break up now, it would completely ruin my campaign. Even worse, if it somehow became general knowledge that she’d left me for a physician who specialized in treating children with disabilities, grew up in one of the poorest areas in New Orleans, created an advisory board to give back to that community, and was still able to accomplish all he did, I would only come out looking like the Hyde to his Jekyll. I could already see people wondering about what was so inherently terrible about me that Alexandra had to leave me for a saint.
“So, I take it that her change in behavior was attributed to the good doctor, then?” I asked.
“Most likely.”
“And you weren’t able to find any anomalies in her day? Nothing that explains how this started in the first place?”
He closed the flap on the tablet case and pulled a notebook from his back pocket. Today, he was dressed in a pair of black slacks, sneakers whose wear suggested that he walked on the inside of his feet, and a newish looking polo.
“Nothing out of the
ordinary. You said that she first started ignoring your calls around Christmas Eve. Well, with a bit of sweet talking and a whole lot of lying, I was able to get access to the security room at the center. It’s basic stuff, nothing high-end, so I got some surveillance footage and keycard swipes for their entries and exits. Until the night before your fundraising banquet, Alexandra would leave the office around five-fourteen unless she was working late. Dr. Stewart usually left the latest out of all the staff members. On that particular night, they both stayed until around eleven p.m. You can probably guess what they were doing.”
He jerked his brows up and down, and I got the sense that he wasn’t exactly on my side.
“And the surveillance tapes?” I asked.
“Mr. Hamilton, nothing—”
“Just tell me what you saw on the damn tapes, Stubbs.”
“What did you call me?”
“Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “What’d you see?”
“Like I said, nothing out of the ordinary. Her grandmother dropped by to see her and left a few minutes later.”
Evelyn Miller was hardly nothing. She probably hated my guts more than Gia did, but her Louisiana high society background didn’t permit Gia’s level of crassness. Alexandra had confided in me once that her grandmother believed in the concept of spiritual connectivity and that there were people who were so destined to be together, that if they did wind up in a relationship, they would be virtually guaranteed a life of unbridled passion and a bond that couldn’t be severed even with the sharpest of dissent. To put it simply, the old woman was insane and was beginning to identify too much with her West Indian roots.
But now, it didn’t seem like just patois-laden mumbo jumbo. Evelyn was the matriarch of the family. The voice of reason. Even the general bowed to her whim like a six-year old boy. If she’d been able to convince Alexandra that she and Ethan were, as she called it “rooted,” then I could easily see this relationship blossoming from there. Alexandra was a very beautiful woman, so it wasn’t a far cry to think that the doctor had always found her attractive. She was also weak-willed and easily directed, so a few orgasms and I could see her becoming hooked on him. Women often believed that sex and love were one in the same, but in reality, the feelings the man had for them usually didn’t even extend past the length of his penis.
Fated: An Alpha Male Romance Page 14
