“Out of all the days to be late, Ava, you have to choose today,” he grumbles, adjusting the neckline of mydress.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, mywordsweak.
After running the back of his hand roughly under my eyes, removing any traces of my smeared mascara, he clutches my hand in his and paces into the opulent ballroom. Once we are surrounded by elegantly dressed men and woman, his stiffened posture softens and the mask he regularly wears in public slips into place. I play the role of devoted spouse to a T. I smile at important dignitaries, ignoring their depraved assessments of my body, and praise the pompous-looking ladies in their hideous ballgowns.
By the time we make it into the middle of the elegant room, my cheeks are burning nearly as much as my hip from his firm clutch onmybody.
“I said to smile at the important men, not give them an open invitation to your bedroom,” he snarls, ensuring he is quiet enough only I canhearhim.
“Believe me, no man in this room is getting an invitation to my bedroom tonight,” I gabble under my breath before snagging a wine glass off a waiter ambling by, balancing a silver tray onhispalm.
“Sorry, what did you say?”heasks.
From his tone alone, I know he heard what I said. My pupils dilate as a surge of anxiety courses through me. Thankfully, the clinking of a wine glass interrupts his furious glare. He strengthens his clutch hold on my body before gliding his gaze to Mr. Gardner standing near a podium in the middle of the ballroom. Mr. Gardner, work associate and boss, looks dashing in a dark blue tailored suit and polished dress shoes. The vibrancy of his red tie matches the hue Mrs. Gardner’s cheeks get when he bombards her with a flurry of compliments as he shares the story of how they met and married the day they attended a dental conference in Las Vegas twenty-five years ago today. My heart warms when I see the love projecting out of Mr. Gardner’s eyes as he speaks of his fondness for his beloved wife. He has the same gleam in his eyes Hawke would always get when he was in Jorgie’s presence, the same gleam Hugo’s eyes had when he woke me every morning before Jorgie’s death. The sentimental tears Mr. Gardner’s speech elicit allow me to conceal my heart break for the loss of Hugo andJorgie.
A smile curls on my lips when the clinking of wine glasses jingles through my ears at the end of Mr. Gardner’s speech. The color in Mrs. Gardner’s cheeks amplifies as she prepares to comply with her wedding anniversary guests’ request. A giggle bubbles up my chest when wolf whistles and cat calls bellow across the room as Mr. Gardner seals his lips over Mrs. Gardner’s. Even though they are in their mid-fifties and have been married for twenty-five years, their love for each other is still in that giddy newlywedphase.
The uproar of cheers and hollering only simmer when a deep voice rumbles over the excitement, requesting quiet. My heart hammers against my ribs when the procession of elegantly dressed party attendees swivel to face me. I can barely secure a full breath when my date releases his death clutch on my hip and kneels down in front of me. My disbelieving eyes shoot around the room crammed with our work associates and important dignitaries as his hand delves into the breast pocket of his midnight black suit. My eyes rocket back to his when he produces a black velvet ring box from his pocket. The mad pulse raging through my body clusters in my ears as he cranks open the box to display the princess cut diamond engagement ring nestledinside.
“Marvin, what are youdoing?”
My voice is low, ensuring the mass gathering of people surrounding us won’t hear the fear in myvoice.
Marvin’s arduous eyes lift from the ring box to me. “Ava, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asks. His voice is as uneasy as the expression onhisface.
Mrs. Gardner’s hand shoots up to her mouth, muffling her excited squeal. I swallow, relieving the dryness impinging my throat. The room goes deadly quiet as I stare at Marvin, unable to comprehend what is happening, let alone articulate a response. The longer I stay quiet, the more Marvin’s eyes glare into mine, silently reprimanding me for the delay. Tears pool in my eyes as I hesitantly nod my head, accepting his proposal. The shake of my hand trembles the length of my arm when he clasps my hand in his and slips the engagement ring onto my ring finger. The sternness in his eyes eases when he stands from his kneeled position and wraps his arms around my shoulders. The crowd erupts into a loud cheer when he pulls me in and seals his lips over mine. The saltiness of the tears streaming down my face mixes with the whiskey lacing his tongue when he slips it inside my mouth, sealing our engagement with an emotion-packedkiss.
Chapter Three
Hugo
My back archesoff the mattress as a tormented scream tears from my throat. I thrash against the sheets wrapped around my withering body, fighting to loosen their deathly tight grip. When another painful howl rumbles through my lips, my eyes snap open. They drift around the unfamiliar darkness swamping me as I rein in the panic scorching my veins. My body is covered in a thick layer of sweat, and my heart is pounding fitfully in my chest as the dark shadows of a nightmare cling to my trembling body. With the mellow-toned walls and stark white sheets, it takes me several moments to gather my bases. For the past nearly five years, I’ve become accustomed to waking up in the bedroom of my apartment, not a hospital room. Five hours on an operating table, four pints of blood and more stitches than I can count were the aftermath of once again failing to rationally consider the consequences. But thankfully, this time, my failure didn’t result in the harsh repercussions of my last debauched decision. The relief I felt when I awoke to the remorse-filled eyes of Izzy staring down at me hit me like a ton of bricks. I should have known Isaac would have stopped at nothing to ensure she was safe. His protectiveness of Izzy is more vital to him than his nextbreath.
Ignoring my shoulder screaming in pain, I scoot across the large hospital bed, desperately needing a shower to chase away the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to my sweat slicked-skin. The dull ache hampering my shoulder turns lethal when I raise my arm to clasp the silver lift dangling over my bed. I need the pain, though. I want it as a somber reminder of what happens when I don’t take the time to evaluate my decisions before making them. My lack in judgment yesterday could have ended a lot worse than it did, adding another item to the exhaustive list of mistakes I’ve made in mylifetime.
I grit my teeth and hoist myself into an upright position. A rush of dizziness clusters in my head, amplifying the swirls of my stomach. I throw my legs over the side of the bed and stand on a pair of wobbly knees. My shaky steps to the attached bathroom are hindered by the heart rate monitor strapped to my chest. Leaning on the wheeled side table to steady my swaying movements, I use my free hand to rip off the heart monitor and defibrillation pads from my chest. As soon as the first pad is removed, an alarm sounds from the monitor, shrilling in my ears. My fingers frantically punch at the buttons on the unit, trying to shut up its irritating shrieks. The shake impeding my legs switches to my hands when a flood of memories pelt into me at once. You don’t realize the significance of a small ripple in a pulse line until you see one vanish beforeyoureyes.
Allowing my anger to get the better of me, I rip the cords off my chest and stalk into the bathroom, dragging the IV stand with me. The pain shredding through my body is nothing compared to the ache crippling my heart. I step into the tiled hob of the shower, not bothering to remove my hospital gown. Cranking the water on full pelt, I step under the spray. The freezing temperature of the frigid water sends a jolt through my body, restarting my frozen heart. I lean my good arm on the sparkling marbled wall and use my spare hand to rip off the thin gown before stepping deeper into the spray. The chilly water blasts the nape of my neck, relieving my overheated skin and chasing away the remnants of mynightmare.
The subzero temps have only just cooled my feverish skin when the bathroom door swings open and Raquel comes flying intotheroom.
“What are you doing out of bed?!” she reprimands me, her high-pitched squeal bouncing off the tiled walls and jingling intomyears.
Raquel is the nurse Isaac hired to look after me during my recovery. When Izzy spotted her sauntering into the room yesterday afternoon, her eyes popped and her elbow landed in Isaac’s ribs, reacting the exact way any woman would when a girl with cock-twitching good looks like Raquel enters a room. Raquel is the exact vision any man conjures when the term naughty nurse is mentioned. She has straight blonde hair, defined eyes, and curvy lips that accentuate her beautiful face. Although Izzy is fooled by Isaac’s reasoning in hiring Raquel as my nurse, I’m not. Isaac knows me well enough to know even though Raquel is gorgeous and has a body that would make most men fall to their knees, I’m not interested in purchasing what she isselling.
Although I'd never openly admit it, I have aslightfascination for a certain type of skin tone. It isn’t an absolute necessity when I’m looking for a bed companion, just like every guy out there. But instead of the favorable characteristics of mydatesbeing determined by their hair or eye coloring, my interests lie in the smooth richness of their beautiful skin coloring. Don’t construe my admission the wrong way, though. Although my preferences lean towards tanned skin, it isn’t the only feature required to gain my attention. Raquel is a prime example of that. Just watching her nibble on the end of her pen last night sent a mass injection of blood to the lower region of my body, and her complexion is as white as a hospital sheet. I don’t mean slightly pale. I mean, she doesn’t have a hint of a tan, whiter-than-Casper-the-Ghost white. But Raquel’s pasty skin coloring has nothing to do with why I’m not lining up to purchase the sweetness she is offering. Although Raquel was hired as my nurse, I’ve known her for nearly two years, and I class her as a friend. Only once in my life have I crossed the fine line that separates friends from bed companions. I didn’t just cross the line with Ava, I smudged it out with my foot on the way over, permanently erasing it from our lives. Just like Ava is the only girl I’ve ever lusted over, asked out and fallen in love with, she will remain the only girl I’ll ever jump the friendshiplinefor.
“You were told to buzz me if you needed anything,” Raquel scolds, rushing towards me without the slightest concern for mynakedness.
She encircles her arms around my waist and guides my shivering body to a shower chair sitting at the side of the stark whitevanity.
“I was shot in the shoulder, not in my legs. I'm perfectly capable of walking,” Iremindher.
She snarls before pushing me into the chair, surprising me with her strength for her small stature. Her eyes silently reprimand me as she paces to my suitcase stored on a luggage table in the corner of the washroom. Her hand digs through the clothes laundered and packed by Catherine, Isaac’s housekeeper. Suddenly, she stops rummaging through my belongings, cranks her neck and looks at me, blinking andconfused.
“They didn’t pack you any briefs,” she informs me, her nosescrewingup.
I lick my dry lips, concealing the grin attempting to spread across my face. “I don’t wear briefs,” Iretort.
