by Dori Lavelle
I want to chase after him, but I’m terrified of seeing the hate in his eyes. I’m shaking as I get to my feet to get my phone from the nightstand. Desperate to talk to someone, to explain myself better, I call Grace.
She’s as shocked as Lance was. After hearing my whole story, she grows silent for so long that for a second, I think she has dropped the phone.
“Please, Grace, talk to Lance. He needs to know I love him. I could never ... I would never hurt him. I took the money from the wedding account so I could make Kirk go away, to protect my life with Lance.”
“I don’t know how to help you. You wanted to cover up the lies, Jia. You wanted Lance to marry you without knowing who you really are. That’s shocking. I really don’t know what to say to you right now.” Grace pauses. “I’m sorry, Jia, but I understand how Lance feels. This is a lot to take in. You lied to all of us. I can’t even start to imagine what he’s going through.”
“I know.” I shove my pain back down my throat. “Is this it? Don’t you want anything to do with me, either?”
“As much as I don’t want to judge you, I need time to think. This is huge.”
“How about my job? Do I still have one?”
Grace is silent again, but not for long. “I try not to let my personal life influence my business. You’re a good employee. You can keep your job. See you when you get back to Boston. I’m guessing it will be sooner rather than later.”
“Thanks, Grace. I appreciate that.”
After the call, I remain on the couch for a long time, wondering how I’ll be able to survive the storm I know is coming.
16
Lance
My hands wrap around the cool balcony railing, so tight the blood flows away from my knuckles. I’m pissed at Jia for pretending to be someone she’s not, but I’m more pissed at myself for walking straight into her trap.
How could I have been so blind? Am I such a terrible judge of character? But then again, she could have fooled anyone. She looks all innocent, it’s hard to imagine something dark lurking below the surface.
What hurts the most is that I love her so much my mind keeps going to her sleeping on the streets. I push the thought to the side. I can’t handle it right now. I need to focus. I can’t allow her to fool me again. I don’t even know if everything she told me is the truth. For all I know, she’s still married. She has certainly mastered the art of lying.
A gust of wind sweeps through my hair, drying the sweat on my scalp. I shut my eyes, wishing the wind could blow away the pain buried inside my chest. I open my eyes again and focus on the raging sea, desperate to sink into its depths. But I can’t run away from this. I cannot run away from what Jia—or whoever she is—has done to my heart.
Maybe I should have stayed back there instead of escaping to another suite on the LaClaire. But I couldn’t stay in the same room with her. I would have lost myself.
I stay on the balcony for half an hour, sitting in one of the lounge chairs, trying to calm my racing heart. After ten more minutes of feeling lost, it hits me that I made a mistake. Cursing under my breath, I scramble to my feet. I shouldn’t have left my daughter behind. How could I have been so stupid? Jia could be dangerous.
Wishing I’d brought my cane with me, I stumble back to the room. My head feels like it’s about to blow up. I burst into the room, expecting to find it empty, to find her gone with my child so she can use her to squeeze money out of me.
But she’s still in the room, on the bed, crying. She looks up when I enter, her eyes red and empty.
An image of her homeless on the streets of New York, alone and afraid, flashes through my mind again, but I ignore it. I want to hold her, but at the same time, I want to hurt her for betraying me.
“Lance.” Her lips part as she rises, twisting her engagement ring around her finger, a piece of jewelry that lost its value. “Let me explain, please.”
“I’m not here for you.” I walk out of the master bedroom, headed for Rose’s room.
I sit on the bed for a moment, watching my daughter curled up in a ball underneath the sheets, snoring softly as she navigates dreamland.
I place a hand on her warm forehead, sweep away the soft curls, and press a kiss to her smooth cheek. Some of the ice around my heart melts, but not all of it.
“Daddy?” She yawns, her arms stretching out on both sides of her.
“Yes, my angel, it’s me.”
“Did the sun come out?”
“It’s still early.”
“Is it breakfast time? I don’t want to sleep anymore.”
“Not yet. But if you want, you can have some already. Come with Daddy.”
She nods and slides out of bed. We step out of the room together, my hand holding hers, while she carries Teddy—the teddy bear—in her other hand.
The moment Jia sees Rose, she smiles through her tears. “Morning, Princess—”
“We will be staying in another room,” I say, cutting her off. She has no right talking to my daughter when she’d ruined both our lives. “We’re getting off the ship at the next port.” I pause and glance at Rose. “Angel, go and grab a fruit from the living room. Wait for Daddy there, okay?”
“Okay, Daddy.” Before I can stop her, Rose runs to Jia, jumps onto the bed, and kisses her on the cheek. Then she jumps from the bed again and bounces out of the room.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I pick up my cane and walk with it to the door. I turn to meet Jia’s eyes. “Feel free to stay as long as you want on the ship. If you decide to come back to Boston, I want you to stay away from me and my kid.”
“Don’t do this, Lance. I love you.” She sniffs. “I only took that money to pay Kirk so he could get out of our lives. It’s you I want to be with.”
“You paid him to keep his mouth shut,” I shoot back. “If he hadn’t shown up, would you have told me the truth?”
She drops her gaze.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You were prepared to keep on lying to me.” I grip my cane tight. “Or maybe you were planning to divorce me soon after we got married.”
“No.” Her voice is smothered with tears. “I’m not ... I don’t do that anymore. I’ve changed.” She clutches her hands against her chest. “You changed me.”
“How can I ever believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth? As far as I’m concerned, we were a damn lie.” Every touch of her hands on my body, the feel of her kisses on my lips, every single moment between us was a complete illusion.
“How can I prove to you that you’re wrong? What do you want me to do?”
“Stay away from me. That’s all I want from you.”
“You’ll just throw us away?” She shakes her head. Her tears fly in all directions. “You’ll pretend we never happened?”
“If I could, I would. You seriously think I’m going to continue this relationship after everything you’ve told me?”
“But I’m not a bad person. Kirk manipulated me. He made me do all those things. I was weak and vulnerable at the time.”
“The fact remains that you lied to me ... about every damn thing. Goodbye, Jia. If you still have the money you took, keep it. Use the engagement ring to buy yourself another name and life.” I walk away without a backward glance, my heart scorching my chest.
I want to go back, to pretend she’s not a liar, but I remind myself that my decisions don’t only affect me. They affect Rose, who I find on the living room couch, biting into a granny smith. I reach for her hand, and we leave Jia behind.
Inside the other suite, I call for our personal butler, Jacob, and instruct him to collect our belongings from the suite I’d shared with Jia.
When Rose asks why our clothes have been moved from the other suite, I realize I’m not prepared to answer her questions. How the fuck am I going to explain to her that Jia is no longer a part of our lives? How will I explain it to my family?
“We’ll be staying in here until we go home tomorrow.”
“Why?” Rose takes a
nother bite of her apple, the juice running down her chin.
“Because it’s much nicer here.”
“Is Jia coming, too?”
“No.” I swallow hard. “She likes the other room better. Now go ask Jacob to get you breakfast.”
“I don’t want eggs,” she chirps, already distracted.
“There are many other things on the menu. I’m sure Jacob is waiting for you.”
After Rose leaves the room, I sit on the bed to make a call. I’m surprised to find a voice message from Mitch. I remembered my phone ringing last night, but I didn’t care. The only thing that interested me was being buried inside Jia. I had no idea it would be for the last time.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I ask Mitch when I return his call. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“Sorry about that. I was out of town. When I’m busy, I keep my phone on silent.”
“Cool. What do you have for me?”
“I’d rather talk about it in person if you don’t mind.”
“That’s not going to happen because I’m on a LaClaire cruise right now. I’m paying you for information, and I want it now.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Spit it out.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t have time. My daughter is waiting to have breakfast with me.”
“I’m afraid it’s bad news, Lance.”
“Give it to me. I’m ready.”
“Okay.” Mitch pauses. “Jia Summers doesn’t seem to exist. There’s no record of her anywhere, not at the schools you said she attended or even the hospital you said she was born in. No one I contacted has heard of her. All the references you gave me with her resume could not be reached.”
“What do mean?”
“The numbers were all disconnected. It sounds kind of fishy to me.” I hear a knuckle cracking. “Maybe there’s a perfectly good explanation.” He waits for me to respond, but I don’t. “Lance, are you there?” he asks.
“I’m here,” I say. “Thanks for looking into it. You can stop the investigation.”
“Are you sure? I could dig deeper.”
“No need. Jia is not my problem anymore. I called off the wedding.” I hang up and call the wedding planner to let her know that we no longer need her services. I also call my brothers to pass on the same information. They’re all speechless when I tell them everything Jia had shared with me.
Now that it’s over, the best thing for me to do is to cut my losses and move on with my life. I’d be damned if any other woman ever fools me again. I’m done.
17
Jia
“Grace, I’m sorry, but I think I should take the rest of the day off if that’s okay with you. I don’t feel well.”
“Yeah, sure.” Grace doesn’t look at me. “I’ll arrange for someone to cover for you.”
“Thanks.” I wait for her to face me, to give me a hug as she used to do before everything fell apart.
I stayed on the LaClaire for the entire journey. It had terrified me to get back on solid ground, to face a future without Lance. Since it felt wrong to remain in the suite I’d shared with him, I asked for a tiny cabin on the ship. All I needed was a place to hide my shame and lick my wounds. I hardly left my cabin as I didn’t need to. All my meals were brought to my room.
When Lance and Rose had disembarked at the Royal Naval Dockyard, Bermuda, I stayed holed up in my cabin, refusing to join the other passengers as they enjoyed the pristine beaches and visited the crafts market. The only highlight of my days was reading that Kirk had been arrested in Boston and thrown into a maximum-security prison.
Grace continues to arrange the oils in the basket.
I came back to work yesterday, two days after I arrived in Boston, and she has barely said a word to me. I’ve never felt more alone or more in pain. My heart aches with each breath. I’ve even been feeling physically sick. My first day in Boston, I stayed in bed with a cold accompanied by a stubborn migraine. But yesterday, I forced myself to go to work. I’ve already lost so much. My job is all I have left.
I force a smile, then I walk out the door.
I should’ve known that it wouldn’t last, that happiness isn’t meant for girls like me, girls with a dark past.
I sit inside my car for close to an hour, watching people enter and exit Grace’s Touch. As much as I love my job, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle working there again after today. Grace is a LaClaire, and she’s close to Lance. Every time we’re together, I’ll be reminded of how I betrayed the family she loves. I’m certain having me as an employee also puts her in an uncomfortable position.
My body aches for a good cry, to find relief after the storm, but the tears stay away. I clasp my hands on my lap and stare out through the windshield, wondering if it’s time to move on, if it’s time to leave Boston, to start over again someplace else. But I’m so exhausted from starting over. I don’t know if I have the strength to do it all over again.
My heart splinters around the edges as I pick up my phone to see if Lance has returned any of my calls. He hasn’t. No one has called me.
It’s hard to let go when we didn’t have a proper goodbye. I wish we were one of those couples who break up and wish each other well. At least there would be some kind of closure. It hurts that he hates me, but I don’t blame him. I left a bitter taste in his mouth.
When we got together, his heart was broken by Alice’s death. I put it back together only to break it again, leaving it in a worse state than it was in before. My own pain doesn’t matter. I’m well acquainted with pain. But the idea of him hurting drives me mad.
Finally, I start the car, but I don’t see where I’m going. Who cares, anyway? I drive around town for a long time. I don’t know how long. Time no longer means anything to me. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.
My head tells me to turn the car around, to go home and nurse my aching head, but I can’t get myself to do that. I’m desperate for closure with Lance. I need to see him again even for a moment.
Unable to stop myself or to think straight, I find myself taking a familiar route, one I’ve taken so many times in the past years.
When I find myself pulling up in front of Lance’s villa, I’m tempted to turn back, but I resist.
What do I want to say to him? After what I’ve done, how could I expect him to forgive me?
But I know one thing, I can’t go away without trying one more time. I can’t live my life wondering what if.
I glance at my face in the mirror and smooth back my hair. My eyes are blank and empty, and the shadows under my eyes make me look like I have Halloween makeup on, but I couldn’t care less. No amount of makeup can hide my vulnerability. This is me, the real me, the raw me, the tortured me.
This is the person I’ve been trying to run away from. She has caught up with me, and I don’t know how to send her back to the past.
A soft drizzle mists my face as I step out of the car.
Do I even have the right to drive the car that Lance bought me? Should I offer to give it back?
I take small steps toward the front door and automatically dig into my purse for my key. He hasn’t asked for it back.
I curl my fingers around the piece of metal. I’m about to slide it into the lock when I change my mind and ring the bell instead. I don’t belong here anymore. I’m a guest like everybody else now. I have become a stranger to the man I love.
Eva opens the door. For the first time since I’ve known her, there’s no smile on her face. She probably knows.
“Miss Jia, what can I do for you?” She doesn’t step aside to let me enter.
I hold on tighter to my key. “I’m here to see Lance.”
“Sorry, Mr. Lance doesn’t want to have any visitors today.”
“Please, Eva. I need to speak to him for a minute. I need to explain—”
“I’m sorry, he made it clear that he should not be disturbed.” She makes to close the door, and I push against it at the last minute
.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving until I see him.”
“Miss Jia, please leave.”
Eva’s unshakeable loyalty to Lance doesn’t surprise me. He has always treated her so well. Last year, Lance paid off the entire college tuition for her granddaughter. He goes above and beyond for his employees, and it’s something I’ve found quite inspiring. It’s only natural that she’s protective of him. But I can’t let her stand between us.
“I’m sorry, Eva. I can’t do that. I can’t leave until I see him. I need to explain some things.” Before she can try to close the door on me again, I push against it until she lets go, a look of horror in her eyes.
She plants her hands on her round hips. “Miss Jia, Mr. Lance will not be happy about this. He said you’re not welcome here anymore.”
“I want him to tell me that himself.” I run up the stairs before she can try again to stop me.
My first stop is Lance’s studio. I don’t find him there. When his heart was broken in the past, he turned his back on the thing he loved the most—painting. My heart twists at the thought I might have robbed him of his desire to create.
I cover my mouth with my hand to hold back a sob as I approach his easel and turn it to face me. Staring back at me is an unfinished painting of me sprawled on his studio couch, naked. Attached to the painting, in the left corner, is the photo that inspired the painting, taken the day I told him I’d marry him, when we were in a good place.
At the time, I fooled myself into believing I could be happy. I still feel a tingle between my legs as I remember us celebrating our engagement on the floor of this room and the couch. Afterward, I was all sweaty, and my hair was all over the place, and he told me I’ve never looked more beautiful, and he’d pulled out his phone to take a photo.
