by Nadia Lee
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“Don’t I?” She grows quiet for a moment. “I know you love Lucas.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Then why did you quit your job to come with him?”
“I didn’t quit. He maneuvered me into it.”
“You could’ve gone elsewhere. Don’t tell me you had no choice. People always have choices. You have friends…and foster parents who care deeply about you.”
My face heats. Elizabeth’s gaze is too direct, too knowing. She’s obviously dug into my background. She knows about Mia. She probably knows my shoe size, too.
“When people aren’t honest about what they want, it’s usually for two reasons. One, they don’t think they deserve it. Two, they don’t think they’ll be able to hold onto the prize. Which is it for you?”
My throat is so dry it feels like there’s a wad of sandpaper lodged inside. Finally, I rasp out, “You sound like you have a lot of experience. First hand?”
She merely smiles. “The best defense is a good offense.”
“I’m not being defensive.”
“Understand something, Ava.” She pauses for a dramatic beat. “Lucas is going to marry.”
The announcement jerks at my heart with such force, a gasp tears from me before I can control myself. “Marry?”
“Marry. Faye Belbin. He’s been busy romancing her these days. Unless I’m mistaken, he’s going to propose to her this weekend. He booked a suite and”—she makes a few circles with her finger pointed upward—“the works.”
The articles and photos. Of course. He isn’t just on a rebound. He’s… My hand fists over my churning gut. I let Lucas go. I ended it, so I don’t know why I’m reacting like this. Have I lied to myself that I was more than ready and happy to let him go to protect myself? But right now the last thing I’m feeling is safe. Elizabeth’s news is ripping my heart out, chunk by chunk. “Does she know?”
Elizabeth blinks. “Know?”
“About…you know…the thing between all of you and your father.”
“Most likely. She’s a smart girl.”
“And she’s okay with it?”
“As far as I know, she doesn’t care. She wants Lucas, and everything else is just…so much static.” Elizabeth regards me thoughtfully. “To achieve a goal, you need to be brutally honest about what you want and willing to give up everything. Everything, including your pride. Faye is more than willing to go the distance.”
“And you like it because that will get you the multimillion-dollar painting.”
“Money doesn’t motivate me. If it did, I wouldn’t be involved in charity.”
I look away. “Why are you telling me this?”
“So you aren’t caught unaware. You were, weren’t you, at the opening? I doubt think you want to have a repeat at work or elsewhere.” She looks away and sighs. “I’m the one who let Lucas know where you were. I feel responsible for how things turned out.”
“We weren’t going to work out anyway.”
“Lucas brought you here, to the hospital. He still cares about you, but he will never go to you again. His mother made sure to drum into him how unworthy he was from an early age. I’ve never seen a woman so thoroughly evil, and I’m glad she’s not in his life anymore.” Elizabeth sighs. “The ball’s in your court. Only you can decide if you’ll regret not fighting for him and you.”
I close my eyes. “It’s too late.”
I feel her hand grasp mine. “It’s not. Be honest and fight for what you want. Lucas deserves a woman who’ll fight for him.” She releases the hand, and the chair creaks. “I hope you feel better soon, Ava.”
She walks out before I can gather my wits.
How can Lucas think he doesn’t deserve whatever his heart desires? He’s rich, handsome and smart. Yeah, so his father’s a jerk, and it sounds like his mother is too, but that’s just one minor aspect.
On the other hand, I’m a real mess. I’m an imposter—a crow tarred with peacock’s feathers. It’s only a matter of time before people see the truth.
I notice my phone in my peripheral vision and pick it up from the bedside. My fingers tremble as I navigate to the selfies we took. We’re both smiling at the camera, then into each other’s eyes—oh so painfully happy in that autumn field in central Virginia.
But there’s more—something I’ve never let myself see. Happiness isn’t the only thing on Lucas’s face. There is love, adoration. He is looking at me as though I’m everything that matters in his universe. And it isn’t just in one shot. Every shot of us… He is gazing at me with love so naked and vulnerable that it guts me.
A sob breaks free of my tight throat, and I shudder as pain wracks me. Hot tears flow freely down my temples and wet my hair.
Could this have been mine if I hadn’t pushed him away with the “test”? How do I reconcile the slice of heaven of that and the hell of finding out I was just someone he needed to marry to get the inheritance?
I don’t want to end up like my mother—broken and dried up. I want to be better than that for myself…and for Mia.
So are you letting Faye have him instead? Give this happiness to her without a fight because you’re afraid he’s going to use and dump you?
I shift, rolling to my side. My heart aches so much I can barely breathe. It wants to try again. If he won’t come for me, I’ll go to him. I can tell him I didn’t really mean it when I called him toxic. I didn’t really want him to go.
What I wanted was to be his number one…and a guarantee of forever.
Chapter Twenty
Ava
One good thing about working at a medical center is the benefits. I don’t have to pay a penny for my treatment. The notion is stunning—a first-rate hospital that doesn’t charge? I’ve always known our mission, what we were doing. But knowing it and actually experiencing it are very different. I feel a swell of pride to be associated with an endeavor like this.
The feeling lasts until I’m out by the exit in my nightshirt and realize that I don’t have a car…or money…or even the keys to my apartment. The only thing I do have is my phone. Unfortunately, I don’t know anybody in L.A. except Lucas—whom I can’t call—Jon and my coworkers. I feel awkward about asking Jon for help when I haven’t spoken to him since the opening, so I mentally cross a line through his name. It’s about four o’clock, though. Maybe if I wait another hour, someone going off shift can drop me at my place…
“Ava!”
I turn around to see Robbie trotting toward me. The collar of his white dress shirt is undone. “One of the nurses told me you were here. Why didn’t you call?”
“Um…” I pull my lips in, unsure what to say.
“You don’t have a ride, do you?”
“Well…no. But I know you’re busy—”
“It’s no bother. What kind of boss would I be if I let you go like this?” He glances down at my feet, which are in the hospital’s slippers.
We walk out to employee parking where his car—a sleek new BMW in dark gray—is waiting. As we pull out of the parking lot, I say, “I hate to bring this up, but don’t you have an appointment with your wife right now?”
“She canceled. An emergency surgery.”
“Oh, okay.”
“She’s saving lives.” His mouth is tight, but the smile is unmistakable.
“And you’re proud of her.”
“Very.”
We drive quietly, the silence broken only when I tell him to turn one way or another. About halfway home, we stop at an intersection. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, then abruptly stop.
“The nurses said Lucas brought you to the hospital.”
“That’s what I heard.”
He looks at me. “You don’t remember letting him in?”
“I don’t really recall much after I phoned you.”
The light changes, and we start moving again.
“I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you�
�” He clears his throat. “But I should’ve acted on instinct rather than waiting for you to say something.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lucas’s been driving you way too hard, and you’ve been working yourself to death without a peep. Does he know how you feel about him?”
The question is so unexpected, I almost splutter. “I’m sorry, what?”
A rueful smile ghosts on his lips. “I saw the way you looked at him…and reacted when you overheard people talking about his affair with his new lady friend.”
My belly clenches at the mention of Faye—and what she means to Lucas now. “We…knew each other before, but we aren’t… I have no feelings one way or the other now.”
“Uh-huh. Well, I think he has feelings for you too. Just an observation.”
My mouth dries.
I am in love with you.
“You’re mistaken,” I say stubbornly.
There’s a short stretch of silence. “You know what my therapist told me once?” Robbie looks over at me. “He said people don’t always hear what’s being said because their mind filters everything through their past experience and bias.”
“Oh. Well…I guess that’s true.”
“Yeah, me too. But I think my therapist missed something. It’s not just words that we don’t hear. We also don’t see what’s real because we’re too busy filtering that through our experience and bias, too. It’s like we’re staring at the world through red lenses and wondering why everything is scarlet.”
I have nothing to say to that.
“If there’s an issue with working with Lucas, I can get Amanda to assist him instead. It’s no problem, and I won’t hold it against you.” He gives me a warm, reassuring smile.
I smile back. “Thanks, but I’m a pro. I can handle it.”
“Easy to say, harder to follow through with. Not saying you aren’t being truthful, but there’s no reason to put yourself in an uncomfortable situation. Feelings drive everything we do.”
I tell him to stop the car as we reach my apartment. “Can you get in?” he asks.
“I have the passcode for the lobby door, and if not, I have the super’s number.”
“Okay. Well, get better and don’t come back until you’re a hundred percent. I mean it.”
He waits until I’m inside the building before driving off. I smile at his thoughtfulness then go up to my apartment, which—thankfully—is both unlocked and un-burgled.
Kicking off the slippers, I flop down on the couch and stare at nothing. The apartment is dead silent, providing a perfect environment for me to sit and let my mind process everything.
Lucas is going to marry Faye. The idea is as painful as an amputation.
I am in love with you.
So am I. I finally, finally admit it to myself in the tiniest internal voice. It’s damn scary—terrifying, really—almost as bad as the time I thought I’d lose Mia because she was born too small. My limbs shake, nausea churning in my belly.
You didn’t fight for him.
How can I? I swore I would never end up like my mom. And so many things Lucas has done remind me of the way Dad treated us.
Gifts. Emotional unavailability. Smooth talk and excuses about why he couldn’t be with us or spend any holidays together.
Of course, he was never available because he had a real home waiting—a three-story brick house with a two-car garage and a yard in one of the nicest and most expensive counties in the country. It’s a wonder he spent any time at the roach-infested one-bedroom apartment where Mom and I lived—except for the sex. I didn’t understand the moans, the slaps, the filthy things they said to each other until later…but now I wonder if maybe he couldn’t get the kind of kicks he wanted from his pricey suburban wife.
I am in love with you.
My hand clenches against my breastbone. What if he meant it…and you chose not to believe him because of what Dad did to Mom?
If he meant it, he would’ve never let me find out about the deal between him and his father that way.
But what if Lucas never found a good time to fess up, the way I never did about Mia? What if I’m the one who’s being prejudiced and rejecting him based on past experience? What if I didn’t hear what he was really trying to say?
Will I be able to live with myself if I unknowingly throw his love away? I’d crawl across an acre of barbed wire if that would give us the happiness we had at the bed and breakfast. There I felt like the center of his universe, the sole object of his love and regard. And he filled my vision, filled my heart, was only one I wanted to hold in my arms forever.
I bury my face in my hands and let out a soft sob. I’m no longer convinced of anything. I’m looking for a guarantee—that he truly, honest to God loves me and that he won’t hurt me…ever.
Except… I should know better. There are no guarantees in life. The only guarantee that we’re all going to die one day.
So why not seize what happiness you can while you’re alive?
Because it’s not that easy. Nothing’s that easy.
Crippling fear presses down on me, and I bite my lower lip until it’s numb with pain. I’ve never felt so lost.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lucas
The suite Rachel booked is…nice. I suppose.
It’s on the top floor, with large, sumptuously appointed rooms, expensive furniture and silky cotton sheets with stratospheric thread counts. There is also a white grand piano. Why the suite has one, I have no clue. It’s not like people book the place to play.
I flick my thumb over my phone, and it comes alive. I go to the photo app and browse the newly downloaded pictures. Me and Ava. Us at our happiest. When I thought nothing could tear us apart.
I shouldn’t have copied them to my phone, but I couldn’t stop myself from rummaging through Ava’s mobile. It was laughably easy to access, the passcode being her date of birth. I felt like the cliché creepy ex—checking the previous girlfriend’s phone to see who she’s been talking to, who she spends time with…who she might be banging, even though I made sure she’d be so overworked she wouldn’t have time for such things.
My justification is just as pathetic. I haven’t been able to stir myself for any woman. The least she can do is keep her thighs together until I feel my body come to life for someone else.
A tight lump forms in my throat. I want to go back in time.
You’re toxic.
I could demand a meeting, make her honor her bargain, try to convince her that…
That what? I’m not toxic?
I run a hand over my eyes. She won’t buy anything from me. She lies in the hospital because I made sure she had so much work she wouldn’t even have time to pee without worrying about finishing all her tasks.
If I thought I could change her mind about the two of us, I’d do anything. But the test and her words made it clear I’m out of options. I grasp the back of a chair and hang my head. I’d give all my money to invent some kind of X-ray that could show Ava what’s in my heart.
But…that’s just a fantasy. Here in reality, I need to stick to the plan. Marry Faye. That solves several problems. And she’ll understand why I’m not banging her if I make up some bullshit story about leg pain or something.
And then you’re going to live out the rest of your days only half-alive?
No. In time, whatever hold Ava has over me will weaken. Surely I can’t want a woman who has such contempt for me. I have more pride and self-respect than that.
Faye and I had great chemistry before. We can have it again if we’re willing to give it a chance. If she’s unhappy with our marriage after a year, we can always divorce—amicably and cleanly.
My finger hovers over her number. I should call, ask her to come over, wine and dine her, then propose. The ostentatious diamond and sapphire ring in my pants pocket pricks my leg as though to remind me of the Sunday agenda.
I’m about to hit the green button when there’s a knock at the door. Unusual…I have
n’t ordered anything…
I open the door and freeze.
Ava.
Her complexion is four shades paler than her platinum hair, except for cheeks that are so flushed she looks feverish. For a second I wonder if she’s sick, then I tell myself she can’t be. The hospital wouldn’t have discharged her.
She stares at me, her ice-blue eyes determined. The lines of her throat remain tense, and her hands are clasped together in front of her. Her fitted green jersey dress hangs a bit loosely on her frame. The dark circles under her eyes are still there underneath the careful layers of makeup.
Am I seeing things? I shake my head, but she’s still standing in front of me. I don’t get it. She should be resting. It was only Friday that she was at the hospital.
“Can I come in or are you…with someone?” she asks, her voice raspy and low.
For what? What is she doing here?
I drink in her jasmine and vanilla scent, her exquisite presence, and life stirs within me—my broken body a machine only she can fuel.
With sudden clarity, I realize her hold over me hasn’t weakened at all. Self-loathing floods through me, and my feeling for her borders on pure hatred. She’s done this to me…reduced me to this pathetic state. Or maybe it’s like my mother said over and over again. I’m just fucked up all on my own. Either way, I’m screwed.
Ava swallows. “Lucas?”
I should shut the door in her face. Tell her to go fuck herself.
But I can’t. My heart tells me to let her in and bask in the delirious sensation of being alive…being truly alive…
I’m an alcoholic who keeps relapsing, each time more painful than the one before. The key to handling it is going cold turkey and staying the hell away.
“Please.”
The soft whisper pierces the steel around my heart. I step aside so she can walk in. And the second she does, I let go of the door. It shuts, the lock engaging with a click.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
My hands are so clammy, I want to wipe them on my dress. But I don’t dare. They’re too shaky, and I don’t want to show him how nervous and unsure I am.
