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Regret.
Regret mixed with relief.
“The past year had not been too good, Van. You know that?”
“What! Of course, I knew I had been taking care of my mother, who was dying of cancer. And then I lost her three months ago!”
I was screaming now. And shaking.
Even though, in hindsight, I’d seen this coming. I just thought it was in my head. I thought Nate loved me. He’d been with me since she’d been sick and then since she’d died. I was just realizing that he’d only stayed out of pity.
“I’m sorry, Van. I hope we can be–“
“Get out!” I snapped.
He looked like he was about to say more. But he thought better of it and then sighed before finally walking out. All while I’d been holding myself from breaking down.
The second the door closes behind him, I crumble to the floor.
Chapter 3
Christian
Itdoesnotmatterhow much you’ve achieved, or how little. Most times, one’s life can be reduced to one moment. One simple act and the ripple effects of that one act, leave you right back where you started.
I was in my workshop working on a new design. I’d had the spacious, bright, and airy room built immediately after the accident.
Being a recluse was never the plan. It was never something I wanted. I loved my privacy, but not to the point of being a recluse. Now, my company was the only thing I wanted. Alone and with my work.
It was difficult, but I ran a billion-dollar company from thousands of miles away and was in a wheelchair. The accident had left me temporarily paralyzed, permanently scarred, and enduringly bitter.
It made it worse that two weeks after my accident, my fiancée, the woman I was in love with, informed me she could not deal with the stress of dating a man in a wheelchair, and then she packed up and left me.
Surviving an avalanche attack for some was a miracle. For me, the miracle would have been if it had not happened at all. I was in constant pain after cracking four ribs and breaking two. It still hurt to smile. My knee had snapped in two; the doctors said it had been a clean break, ‘lucky for me’ and that months of therapy would get me walking again. A ruptured spleen, and a severe concussion that still gave me migraines to this day, were all supposed to feel like a miracle.
I guess I should be grateful that I did not die.
The sound of a vehicle arriving at the compound startles me out of my dark thoughts and I glance out the windows. Not surprised to see my assistant, I continue my work, already knowing why he was there.
There’s a knock on the door and when I say nothing, I hear the soft click of Alba’s heels when she opened the door,
“Mr. Fitzgerald, Ethan’s here to see you.”
I ignore her voice and heard her sigh before she walked out. Then I heard the faint whisper of their voices outside the still-opened door.
“I don’t think he’s in the mood to see you today, Ethan,” Alba said, ever the mama bear.
She had always protected me since I was a kid, having worked with my family for over thirty years. She had come to the Fitzgerald’s employ when I’d only been three years old. And she had been the mother my own never could be to me. It was no wonder I spent most of my time here. And after the accident, it was the only place I could think to retire to when everything I saw on the news in the city was news of my accident.
“Alba. He needs a new nurse. The last one called me crying. If we’d not paid her off, she might have sued.”
“What? The last nurse was a whore and a skank and we should be the ones suing her.” Alba defended viciously and I could not help the small smile that broke out, making me wince a little.
The last nurse had indeed tried to seduce me, despite my disabilities, and I’d cut her down with my tongue, so harshly that she’d wept throughout the time she packed her bag and left the house.
In my defense, she’d made various attempts, which I’d ignored until I could not anymore. The one before that simply annoyed me.
“You making excuses for him does not change the fact that he’s been through three nurses in one month, Alba. Three!” I heard him emphasize.
