Illusions of Love

by Michelle Betham

  But India was rooted to the spot, she couldn’t move. Something was wrong alright, and it was more than obvious now that whatever had happened concerned Michael, and whilst that in itself was enough to make her feel a dread she’d never experienced before, something else had just made the whole situation even more confusing.

  ‘That’s my dad,’ she whispered, her eyes not leaving the figure she’d just seen outside on the lawn. And all of a sudden, as she remembered everything she’d told Martha back in L.A., she realised something she should have realised the second she’d told her step-mum everything – she could never keep a secret like that from Reece. And India should never have expected her too. But just what the hell had her father done?

  CHAPTER 36

  ‘He’s had a heart attack,’ India said, looking up as Kenny sat down next to her in the hospital corridor.

  ‘Jesus! How… how bad?’

  India stared straight ahead of her, clasping her hands together in her lap. ‘He’s okay… now. He’s okay now, but…’

  She wanted to cry – she needed that release, she really did – but no tears seemed willing to fall, and instead all she felt was a crashing numbness and a feeling of emptiness that swept over her in constant waves.

  ‘Shit! How… What the fuck happened?’ Kenny tried to put everything that had gone on that morning with him and Charley to the back of his mind, because all he wanted to do right now was be there for his best friend when she needed him. And she needed him right now, more than ever. He’d been by this woman’s side for almost twenty years and knowing what he did, knowing her past and the way she’d always felt about Michael Walsh, despite all the crap he’d kicked in her face, Kenny knew this wasn’t going to be easy for her.

  ‘Reece,’ India whispered, still staring straight ahead of her.

  ‘Reece?’ Kenny frowned. ‘I don’t understand. What do you mean?’

  India turned to look at him. ‘I told Martha. I told her about Michael – about what he did to me...’

  ‘And she’s told Reece.’ It wasn’t a question.

  India nodded slowly, turning to look up the empty corridor. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised, I mean, my dad… he only did what any father would probably have done if they’d found out their daughter had been…’ She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, her voice verging on emotionless.

  Kenny reached out to take her hand, squeezing it tight. ‘Are you saying that’s what caused it? The heart attack? That your dad confronting Michael caused this?’

  She looked at him, shrugging. ‘Well, I can’t imagine it helped, Kenny. I mean, Michael’s almost sixty-years-old, isn’t he? And he thrives on stress, puts himself under so much pressure on an almost constant daily basis…’

  ‘Most of that’s self-inflicted, kiddo.’

  ‘Yeah. I know that.’ She sighed heavily as she threw her head back, staring at the stark white ceiling above her. She hated hospitals. All they brought back were unhappy memories of times she didn’t really want to think about anymore. ‘I’m sorry, Kenny. I didn’t mean to be so defensive, I’m just worried. He’s Ethan’s dad, after all. And Ethan loves him so much; he’d be devastated if anything happened to him.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  She looked at him. ‘What about me?’

  ‘How would you feel if anything happened to him?’

  India turned away again, and that in itself told Kenny everything he needed to know.

  ‘Have you seen him yet?’ Kenny asked, still holding onto her hand.

  She shook her head. ‘No. Layla’s with him.’

  Kenny looked around. ‘Where’s Dominic?’

  ‘Well, he isn’t playing the dutiful son, that’s for sure.’

  Kenny was a little surprised at the tone of her voice when talking about a man she professed to be crazy about. ‘Is that what you think he should be doing?’

  ‘Can you quit with the psychoanalysing shit, Kenny. No, I don’t think it’s what he should be doing, I just… Jesus, I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.’

  ‘Trouble in paradise, huh?’

  She looked at him again but said nothing, her attention suddenly diverted towards Reece who was walking towards them, his head down, his hands in his pockets. India stood up and waited for him to approach them, her heart beating ten to the dozen, her head not entirely straight but she was feeling way too emotional to even begin thinking about what she was going to say before she said it. She didn’t really care anymore.

  ‘What have you done?’ she whispered, waiting until her father’s eyes met hers before she spoke, her voice quiet but steady.

  ‘I did what any father would do, India. You think I’m just going to forget about something like that, huh? Forget what he did; forget all the shit he put you through…’

  ‘So, killing him is the way to go then?’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate things…’

  ‘He had a fucking heart attack, Dad! You do know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, India. I was there, remember?’

  ‘Yeah. You were there.’

  ‘This wasn’t my fault, India…’

  ‘Y’know, I kept that information from you – what happened between me and Michael – I kept it from you because you didn’t need to know, you didn’t need to know any of it because we worked it out, Michael and I. We came through it…’

  ‘Jesus, come on, India! Do you really expect me to believe all that crap? You came through it? You honestly think that’s happened? You shutting him out of your life for all those years, then when he suddenly reappears you can’t keep away from him, you can’t even hold down a fucking relationship with any other man because you can’t get Michael fucking Walsh out of your fucking head… Don’t stand there and tell me you came through it because you aren’t even close, sweetheart. So don’t fucking kid yourself.’

  ‘I’m over him, Dad.’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ Reece laughed. ‘You’re over him. You don’t want him anymore, is that right?’

  She looked at her famous father through narrowed eyes. ‘I’m over him.’

  ‘Okay. Do one thing for me, alright? Just answer this one question. If Dominic MacDonald wasn’t his long-lost son, would you have grown so close to him so quickly?’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘You can’t have Michael anymore… Okay, maybe that’s not the case, because I think all of us know that you’ve only got to say the word and that man would come running, so, how can I put this?’ He looked straight at India. ‘You won’t go back to Michael, am I right on that score?’

  India nodded slowly, confused as hell now.

  ‘So, what’s the closest thing you can have to Michael without actually having to take him back?’ Reece stared straight into India’s eyes as he spoke. ‘His son, India. You can sure as hell have his son.’

  India shook her head, those tears that she’d never quite managed to cry all day now falling freely down her face. ‘How dare you. How fucking dare you…’

  ‘Okay, that’s enough, Reece,’ Kenny said, jumping up and pulling India away from her father. ‘That’s enough. Everyone’s upset, so let’s just calm down, alright?’

  ‘I don’t want him near me, Kenny.’

  ‘You’re upset, India…’

  She swung round to face her father again, a mixture of anger and fear and confusion taking over. ‘Yes, I’m fucking upset. What would you like me to be feeling, huh? Would you like me to be angry that he’s not dead, or pleased that this has happened to him because it’s the least he deserves? Is that what you want me to feel? Because I don’t, okay? I don’t feel any of that. In fact, I’ll tell you what I’m feeling. I feel a pain ripping me apart inside, a pain that I can’t even begin to describe, and it hurts. It hurts like hell… I loved him so fucking much, y’know? I loved that man like I’ve never loved anyone before…’

  ‘Like you’ll never love anyone again?’

  She swung round to see Domi
nic standing there, his hands in his pockets, his dark hair all dishevelled, but those blue eyes so like his father’s still shone from a face that was so obviously tired.

  ‘He wants to see you,’ Dominic went on, not waiting for India to answer his question.

  She stared at him. ‘You… you’ve seen him?’

  Dominic nodded. ‘I’m his son, aren’t I?’

  ‘I… How... how is he?’

  ‘He’s asking for you so, why don’t you go see for yourself?’

  ‘What… what about Layla?’

  ‘She’s gone back to the villa to get changed.’

  ‘Dominic…’

  ‘Like I said, India. He’s asking for you.’

  She almost ran off in the direction of Michael’s room, stopping only to take a deep breath before she pushed open the door, the sight and sound of the machines surrounding him bringing back the still-so-vivid memories of her brother. Of a death she’d never quite gotten over, even after all these years. And her biggest fear had been that she was going to have to deal with losing Michael too, and she wasn’t ready for that. She really wasn’t ready.

  But, propped up against the pillows, he looked okay. A bit tired, maybe, but he looked okay. He looked fine. Various wires were attached to his chest to monitor his heart and there was a drip in his arm, but, apart from that, he looked just like Michael. A little older, maybe, a little more worn down – but he looked like Michael.

  ‘You look remarkably well, for a man who’s just had one hell of a wake-up call,’ she said, walking over to the bed.

  He smiled – that smile that had made her so happy. Once upon a time. ‘It’ll take more than a crappy heart attack to keep me down, honey. I’m not quite ready to be written off just yet.’

  She folded her arms, trying hard to give him a convincing smile. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘A bit tired, y’know? Kinda feel as though someone’s driven a truck over my chest, but…’ He looked at her, and India felt more tears start to spill down her cheeks, tears that she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand. ‘You look incredible, India.’

  She couldn’t help laughing. ‘Don’t talk shit, Michael. I look like crap, thanks to you.’

  He held out his hand and she paused for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed, taking his hand, running her fingers over it.

  ‘I was scared, Michael. The thought of losing you…’

  ‘You’ll never lose me, India. That’s never gonna happen, baby.’

  She looked at him, really looked at him. He was still so handsome, still carried that slightly quirky look that had made him who he was in Hollywood; he still had those eyes…

  ‘Dominic, he… he said he’d been in to see you.’

  Michael squeezed her hand. ‘Yeah. He’s been in. He’s a good-looking kid, my grown-up son.’

  ‘What happened? I mean, you guys… Have you…?’

  ‘Have we what? Talked things over? Had a father/son heart-to-heart? Not quite. Not really the time, is it? But things like this… well; they seem to put things into some kind of perspective, don’t they?’ Michael looked right into her eyes. ‘Do you love him, India?’

  She turned away for a second, still holding onto his hand. ‘I don’t know.’ She looked at him again, taking in every tired inch of a face she’d loved more than she’d ever cared to admit. Did she still love him now? Maybe she’d never really stopped, maybe she never really would. Maybe she was always destined to love this man and it was just something she was going to have to deal with for the rest of her life.

  ‘Because he sure as hell loves you.’

  ‘Michael…’

  He reached out to touch her face, stroking it gently, making her cry again, silent tears that just kept coming, faster than he could wipe them away.

  ‘How do we always end up here, Michael? How do we always end up in this ridiculous, emotional wreckage of a relationship? It’s so bloody exhausting.’

  ‘I will always – always – love you, India. You know that, don’t you?’

  She nodded, turning sharply as the door opened and Layla walked back in. She looked tired and upset, her pretty face devoid of any make-up, her arms folded against her in an almost defensive manner. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt she looked so young and frightened – she looked like a woman who’d feared she might lose the man she loved with all of her heart. And India knew exactly how she felt.

  Letting go of Michael’s hand India got up off the bed, smiling at him, wiping away the last of her tears with the back of her hand. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’

  ‘You don’t have to go,’ he said, looking over at Layla who just stood in the doorway, watching them.

  ‘Yeah. I think I do, Michael. You and Layla, you need some time.’

  ‘India…’

  ‘Later,’ she smiled again, if only to hide the sudden, unexpected pain she felt as she started to walk away from him.

  Layla watched her every movement, waiting until she was right beside her and as she turned to speak her voice was quiet, but determined. ‘Leave him alone, India. Please. Leave him alone, and let me take over. You’ve had him for far too long and I… I need to start feeling as though he can really be mine. Do you understand that?’

  India nodded, saying nothing. What could she say? She gave Layla’s hand a quick squeeze before walking back out into the corridor, hoping that would let Layla know that she was stepping back now. Even though it hurt, and India hadn’t expected it to hurt. Not quite so much.

  ‘Everything alright?’ Reece asked as soon as she emerged from the room, but India ignored him, walking straight past him.

  ‘India!’ Kenny said, jumping up and running after her.

  ‘I just need some time, okay?’ She turned to look at Kenny. ‘Please. I just need some time.’

  ‘Are you gonna be alright?’

  ‘I’m forty-three-years-old, Kenny. I’m not a child. I’ll be fine. Today’s just been a shock, that’s all.’

  India, look… your dad…’

  ‘Like I said, Kenny. I just need some time.’

  She wandered outside to a private courtyard within the hospital grounds. Although, it was hard to call it private when it was surrounded by security, but they were very necessary, under the circumstances. She knew the press and paparazzi were swarming around outside, trying to get news of Michael’s condition, trying to get anything they could from anyone they could, be that a quote or a picture, anything that would fill that front page or headline the showbiz news. So for once she was pleased that security were hanging around in large numbers. She didn’t feel much like being the spokesperson for this particular crisis.

  Leaning back against the wall she closed her eyes for a few seconds, thinking about what she was going to tell Ethan when she called him later. It hadn’t been all that long since her beautiful little boy had had to deal with the prospect of almost losing his mum, and now she had to tell him something had happened to his daddy. Couldn’t anything ever be simple in her life anymore?

  ‘Want some company?’

  She looked up to see Vince standing in front of her. He seemed drained, more tired than she’d ever seen him look before, and that shocked India slightly because Vince Maine could usually cope with anything. It took a lot to get him down. He was everybody’s rock, the one people turned to when things were on the verge of turning to crap. But today he looked almost defeated, and something told India that this wasn’t just down to the fact his best friend had almost died.

  She reached out and hugged Vince tight, shocked to find him suddenly breaking down in tears in her arms; something she’d never, ever seen this strong, almost stoic man do before. ‘Vince? Hey, come on…’

  They sat down on one of the benches, Vince looking away from her as he tried to quickly compose himself. He’d never had a morning like it. He’d started the day by finding his wife in bed with Kenny Ross and then, completely out of the blue, he was hit with the news that his best friend had suffered
a heart attack. All in the space of a couple of hours.

  ‘Vince? Do you want to tell me what’s going on? Because I’ve known you long enough to know that this isn’t just about Michael. You can cope with that, I know you can. So, what’s happened? Is it Charley?’

  He couldn’t help but let out one of those cynical laughs, throwing his head back as he stared at the clear blue cloudless sky above him.

  ‘Is it Charley…’ He looked at India. ‘I found her in bed this morning – in our bed – with Kenny. My wife – and Kenny Ross.’

  India felt her stomach sink. Kenny had promised her it wouldn’t happen again, he’d promised her. What the hell had they been playing at?

  ‘Oh, Jesus, Vince. I don’t know what to say…’

  He shrugged. ‘What can you say?’ He sat forward, pushing his hands through his rapidly greying hair, sighing heavily. ‘This whole fucking Jimmy Cash business – it threw them together, didn’t it?’

  India looked at him, slightly confused.

  ‘That’s what she said, India. She said she could talk to Kenny… but she couldn’t talk to me. Shit!’ He stood up, pacing the floor in front of the bench. ‘How am I supposed to deal with this, huh? How am I supposed to forget what I saw? Jesus, I love her so fucking much…’

  ‘Then work it out, Vince.’

  He stopped pacing and looked at India. There was a sadness in her eyes, and he felt guilty for throwing this on her along with everything else she was obviously having to deal with right now. ‘Can we, though? Can we work it out?’

  India started fiddling with the bracelet she was wearing, twisting it round and round her wrist. ‘If you love someone enough, Vince, you can work anything out.’

  ‘Do you want to prove that?’

  They both swung round at the sound of Dominic’s voice. He stood behind them, tired but oh so handsome, so handsome India felt her breath catch in her throat. A feeling she’d experienced so often in the past with his father.

  Vince looked from India to Dominic, sensing there was something going on here that they both needed to sort out, and maybe he had some sorting out of his own to do too, in time. But, not yet. Not just yet.