by Tessa Teevan
“Do you remember last Christmas when I disappeared from the company party?”
“Yeah. You said it was too stuffy and you were going to get some fresh air. You ended up in the hotel ba—” She stops, sucking in a deep breath. “Holy shit. Are you serious? Of all the men in the world, how in the hell did you two end up in the same place at the same time? Again? And this time, the roles were reversed and he was the one taking care of you? I’ll be freaking damned.”
That makes two of us. “I know. When I saw him, I thought I was seeing things. I do remember him saying that he lived in the Nashville area. But still. Out of all the freaking people here. And now, he’s hurt. All because of me.”
Lyssa sighs. “It’s not because of you, sweetie. He risked his life to save you, which is kind of crazy, because the guy you described to me sounded more like a drunken jerk than a real-life Superman. Makes me wonder if that night helped him as much as it helped you.”
There’s an underlying message in her words, because after I met him, the cold feet and the dread began to take hold.
Not wanting to discuss that night any further, I change the subject. “Speaking of, on a scale of one to ten, how livid are Victoria and William?”
“Girl, there’s no one to ten here. We’re talking mega mad. Richter-scale-off-the-charts livid. The level of their anger puts even the worst earthquake to shame. The only thing keeping Dad from disowning you is the fact that Benjamin’s a delusional asshole who thinks you just need to sow your wild oats. According to him, ‘you’ll come crawling back when you come to your senses.’”
I wince, and this time, the pain isn’t just in my head. It’s in my heart—for ever having thought that a man like him could love me unconditionally.
“In fact, they didn’t even cancel the wedding. A simple postponement was announced, and everyone’s acting like there’s nothing wrong. Of course, now this accident will give them just what they need to prove it.”
“No!” I yell into the phone, sucking in a deep breath at the sharp pain in my side. “I mean, I don’t want them to know. I’ll be out of here in a few days, and I just need the time alone. The last thing I need is them barging in here, especially not Benjamin. I can’t stomach the thought of him trying to play the caring, concerned, dutiful fiancé. Hell, he’d probably try and drag a Justice of the Peace in here just so he can have his trophy wife.” I pause, remembering what I told the nurse. “Plus, my big mouth may have gotten me in trouble here already.”
She sighs, and I switch ears, knowing I’m in for a lecture. “Oh, Ari. What’d you do?”
“They weren’t going to let me see him, Lyss, and I have to. He saved my life, and he doesn’t deserve to be lying in that hospital bed all alone. So when the nurse told me, I glanced down at my engagement ring, and before I could stop myself, I was blurting out that he’s my fiancé.”
“You didn’t!” she gasps, sounding appalled.
I’m not surprised. Alyssa’s the impulsive one, not me. No, I always have a plan, my life mapped out, and lying has never been easy for me. At least that’s how I was until today. Maybe I’m more like Alyssa than I realized and it just took an asshole like Benjamin to make me see it.
“I did. And I know I should regret it, but I don’t. I’m still waiting for the doctor to clear me to go see him. I need to know, Lyss,” I insist, not sure if I’m trying to convince her or me.
She sighs wistfully, and I can imagine her shaking her head. “What are you going to do when he wakes up, Ari? Because, fingers crossed, he’s going to wake up. And unless he has amnesia, he’s going to wonder who the hell you are, pretending to be his fiancée.”
I know she’s right, and I find it funny. Alyssa’s a lot of things, but never the voice of reason. It’s as if we’ve had some a weird role reversal, but I’m too tired to examine it now. “Look, he’s going to wake up. I’m just going to be there to hold his hand, maybe talk to him, to coach him back into it. You know they say people in a coma can hear you, and it’s not fair to him if all he has are doctors and nurses and machines beeping. If—no, when—he wakes up, I’ll deal with it then. It’s not like the nurses care whether we’re really together or not. He’ll wake up, I’ll thank him, and then figure out where my life is headed after that.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Ari. Just one night with this guy had you questioning your entire future. I can’t imagine what a fake engagement will do.”
“It’s not a fake engagement. It’s just a means to being able to see him. And obviously, even as a drunken therapist, he was right to have me questioning my future. I was almost too late.”
The nurse reenters the room with the doctor, so I say my goodbyes.
“I’ve gotta go, Lyssa. Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll call you tomorrow when I have more news.”
“Fine. It’s going against my better judgment, but for now, I’ll trust you and keep this between us. But you’re racking up a lot of IOUs with me, Ari. Don’t think I’ll forget them.”
Smiling, I know she’s got my back. “Love you, Lyss. And I’ll see you soon. I promise.”
“Okay. Love you, too.”
I click the phone off and turn to the doctor, who’s beaming at me.
“Nice to see you awake, Ms. Covington. I’m Dr. Webber,” he says in a friendly tone that I’m sure puts even the most nervous patients at ease. “I hear you and the young man aren’t just victim and hero but engaged to be married. The nurses are all atwitter with the news.”
Swallowing hard, I nod as I continue the charade. “I have no idea what I’d do without him or what I’d have done if he hadn’t been there for me when I needed him most.” I lay it on thick, playing up the concerned fiancée card. “And I know he needs me now. I can’t stand the thought of him in that hospital bed all alone. Please. Will you please let me see him?”
“It’s late, and visiting hours are over.”
My heart falls, and tears well up in my eyes. I’m surprised that they’re real as they spill over onto my cheeks. This isn’t a show for the doctor. I’m genuinely upset, and even as I try to wipe the offending droplets away, they keep coming.
Dr. Webber places a hand on my shoulder, and I look up at him. “That being said, I think, in this case, the circumstances call for a little bend in the rules. Let’s check you over, and if all looks well, I’ll have Nurse Singleton wheel you to his room so you can see him yourself.”
A sob racks through me, and I’m not sure if it’s from joy, relief, or terror at the idea of seeing him again. “Thank you, Dr. Webber. You have no idea how much that means to me. I’ve been lying here all night wondering how he’s been doing, and it’s been driving me crazy.”
“I can understand that, Ms. Covington. I’ll be thorough but quick,” he assures me as he reads my chart.
Then he and the nurse work together to check the stitches on my head and my torso where my spleen was removed. I wince as he touches the tender spot, and as he checks my chart again, he orders another round of pain medication.
“Please. I’m fine. I don’t want any more medication if it means I can’t leave the room,” I protest as Nurse Singleton starts to push a dose of morphine into my IV.
“As far as I can tell, everything’s looking fine. She’ll wheel you down there just so you can see him then bring you back to sleep in your room. First thing tomorrow, we’ll take you back. How does that sound?” the doctor asks.
I want to tell him that it sounds terrible. That, once I go to his room, I won’t want to leave. But instead, I decide to be grateful that they’re bending the rules for me, even if it’s just because they think we’re some modern-day love story.
“Okay. That sounds good, I guess,” I tell him and allow them to help me into the wheelchair, my IV pole right beside me.
“All right, Ms. Covington. Let’s go see your fiancé,” the nurse says, and I have to suppress a small laugh.
Ariana Covington, you little slut. Two different fiancés in just on
e day.
Smiling up at her, I nod. “Let’s go.”
Present Day
I’M ETERNALLY grateful when the latest scene fades to black and the faint, familiar beeping comes back in, right along with the darkness. It’s been nearly twelve years since those events led to the massive rift in my family, but that dream was so vivid that it felt like it was yesterday.
Wanting to wipe the memory from my mind, I will my eyes to open, but they just won’t comply. I feel my head jerk slightly, and I hear a nearly inaudible moan. It came from me—I know it did—but it sounded so far off. I’m struggling to stay lucid, to keep the darkness at bay, when that damn bright, white light shows up again. At first, I think I’m staring up at the fluorescent lights of the hospital room because I feel a soft, warm hand slipping into mine. It’s small, but the squeeze it gives me is reassuring. Trying to turn my head is no use, and I see nothing but the backs of my eyelids. Just as I’m slipping under, I feel a warm breath on my ear.
I need you to wake up, Branson. Please wake up.
If I could laugh, I would. I must be imagining things, because me? Branson Wellington? No one’s ever needed me. And I’m not sure anyone ever will. But that voice whispers one more time before I follow that light, wondering what kind of hell I’m about to relive this time.
July 2006
AFTER I finish straightening my tie, I turn and gratefully accept the three fingers of scotch from Shane, my closest cousin and one of my groomsmen. As I toss back the liquid, it causes a burning sensation to fill my chest, but it does its job and chases away the anxiety—the anxiety that’s been building up inside me the closer this day has come. The day I marry Megan Caldwell. The day I never thought would come, but like a barreling train, I couldn’t stop it from happening.
As much as I hoped things would have derailed sometime in the past four years, they didn’t. It’s not that I don’t love Megan. In my own way, I do. What may have started off as a mistake actually blossomed into something good. Something safe. Something secure and something entirely necessary, even if it started off in the worst way possible.
After Knox left, Megan and I fell into a relationship to keep up for appearances’ sake. If we’d have broken up any time soon, I knew my parents would’ve become suspicious that Megan and I had been just a one-night stand instead of actually having feelings for each other. And let’s be honest. I’d spent most of my time busting my ass in school and then at work, leaving little time for relationships. Getting laid was easy. Finding a girl who understood that your career came first? Not so much. Megan, however, knew the score. Hell, she was fine with the score. She wanted the score. She was more than happy to be part of the game.
In the end, she’s just another means to an end. I know that makes me sound like a prick—I am one—but Megan’s fully aware of it. She wants me to be CEO almost more than I do, and last year, when Dad started hinting around at retirement and wanting to be a granddad, I knew it was time to move our relationship forward. I proposed. She said yes. And here we are.
So why do I feel like I’m about to make the biggest mistake of my life?
Pushing the thoughts aside, I finish the scotch. I know what I’m doing. It’s what I’ve always done. Anything necessary to secure my place as the head of Wellington Enterprises. Now I’ll have a beautiful wife by my side. Life could be worse.
A throat clears and I look up to see Shane leaning back against the door, watching me. “It’s not too late to back out, you know,” he tells me, and I scoff as I look at my watch.
“The ceremony starts in less than half an hour, Shane. I’d say it’s a little too late.”
He shakes his head. “Maybe cuttin’ it a little close, but it’s not quite too late. Are you sure about this, Bran? I mean, I know you’ve been together for a few years, but I don’t know, man. I just don’t think she’s your one.”
“My one?” I scoff. “There’s no one for me. Actually, there is, and that’s the business. Megan knows I’m married to the job. She knows what she’s getting into.”
“Do you even hear yourself? That’s no way to start a marriage. Yeah, she may be okay with it now, but eventually, she’s going to want more from you. She’s going to tire of your late nights at the office. Hell, look what she did to your family. To your brother. You think she won’t do the same to you?”
“We had a deal. She could do whatever she wanted during her college years as long as she was discreet. But once the engagement ring was on her finger, all male-involved extracurricular activities ceased. It’s in the prenup. She’d be an idiot to violate that.”
He opens his mouth to speak, but I continue.
“As for what she did to my family… She’s not the only one who fucked up here. And at least, by marrying her, I’ll feel as if I didn’t tear my family apart for nothing.”
That anxiety begins to well up in my chest again, but this time it’s not for Megan. It’s for Knox.
Shane’s eyes soften. “Have you heard from him?”
“You know Cohen’s the only one he’ll speak with.”
“And the P.I.?” he asks.
Shane’s the closest Wellington cousin to my age, and we were always close growing up, even if we’re polar opposites. We work together at Wellington Enterprises, but he’s never wanted the power, the name, the prestige. No, Shane doesn’t care that his last name is Wellington. In fact, his dad, my uncle Clay, has been hounding him to take over the Atlanta office, but he doesn’t want the responsibility. At least not right now, he claims.
Shane’s also the only one who knows I hired a private investigator to keep tabs on Knox. At first, I told myself I was doing it for Mom, the guilt of her devastation resting heavily on my blackening soul. But I know it’s not just for Mom. I live for the reports. To see how he’s faring, and so far, military life seems to suit him. Maybe I did him a favor after all.
“He just got back from a tour in Iraq. The letters I’ve sent through the P.I. have all been returned unopened. He wants nothing to do with me.” Do you blame him?
Shane sighs sadly. “Can’t say I blame him,” he says, giving voice to my thought.
“Yeah, well, what’s done is done. At least, after today, I can say I didn’t fuck it all up for nothing, right?” I try to joke, but it falls flat.
Before he can respond, the door opens and my youngest brother, Cohen, comes in. Shane gives me one last look and then leaves, but not before I see the shaking of his head.
“Mom says it’s time to line up,” he tells me, watching as I take one last swig of scotch. His eyebrow rises. “Are you sure you want to go through with this, Bran? You seem kind of on edge. Hell, you’ve been on edge for weeks.”
I plaster on a fake smile and slap him on the shoulder. “Pre-wedding jitters, kid. I’m sure it’s normal for any groom.”
“If you say so,” he says, not sounding convinced.
“Kid, you’re fourteen years old. You have a lot to learn. Trust me, I couldn’t be happier. I’m about to marry my beautiful bride, and in twenty-four hours, we’ll be lying on the beach, enjoying our honeymoon. Now let’s go. We don’t want to keep Mom waiting.”
I push him out the door and take one last look in the mirror. Both Shane’s and Cohen’s questions replay over in my mind, but I quickly push them away.
Here’s to the first day of the rest of my life.
Present
THE LAST thought replays in my mind as I come back into semi consciousness. The first day of the rest of my life? More like the beginning of the end.
Shane had been right all along. I lived the job. Breathed the job. Megan and I ended up more like roommates than anything, and that was partially my fault. It’s on me. But even still, when I caught her red-handed—or, well, dick-handed—I wasn’t angry. I was humiliated. Even more so when she blamed it all on me. But not because of my long work hours.
No, she hit me with the lowest blow possible. According to her, I’m not my brother. Nor will I ever be. The worst part?
She was right. Now that Knox is back into the family fold, I know it’s true. He’s the good guy I’ll never be. I see it at every family function, every holiday, every single damn brunch that he and Charlie come to. All that time wasted thinking he was going to take something from me. Yet, in the end, I won.
But in reality, Knox has more than I could ever imagine. And at this point, more than I’ll ever deserve. In the game of life, Knox has won. And since he already hated me, I figured I’d do one last thing to make sure he’d remain the winner. That his happily ever after was just that. And even though I succeeded, all it did was push him even further away from me.
As the scene comes into view, I suddenly feel like Ebenezer Scrooge, like some unseen Ghost of Christmas Past is here to haunt me and show me the error of my ways. The thing is that I’m already painfully aware of all the mistakes I’ve made. Of every time I’ve made a wrong turn in my life. Of every single decision that has affected me and those around me negatively. I don’t need the reminder, but apparently, this ghost has a difference of opinion, because I’m back there again. To the place where I nearly sealed the nail on the coffin in my dying relationship with Knox.
September 2013
“DO YOU think your brother’s going to show up?” she asks, sounding a little too excited at the thought.
With a sigh, I adjust my tie and look over at my wife, who’s been spending a noticeable amount of extra time on her hair and makeup. I walk over to her and place my arms around her waist, my lips kissing her neck. “You look gorgeous, Megan,” I tell her, feeling a little guilty that I’ve been gone for the last two weeks on business.
She brings up hand up and pats my arm. “You’re only saying that because you haven’t seen me in a while. You’ll get used to me again,” she says as she turns in my arms.
I lean in for a kiss, wondering if I can sneak in a quickie before we have to leave, but she turns her head at the last minute, my lips planting a firm kiss on her cheek.
