“But you’re still married,” Sherry whispered.
“I would divorce him tomorrow if he’d let me. But his conscience won’t allow it. He’s afraid that if he does, I’ll die. But I’m going to die anyway. He did what he could to make sure I received the care I need. He’s not a bad person. So what I’m asking, Sherry, is if you could forgive him the secret he kept from you. And when I’m gone, be there for him. Because he’s going to need you. And because you would make a dying woman very happy. I couldn’t leave in peace knowing that I caused him to lose the love of his life.”
Sherry stood. Crossing her arms, she stepped away from Heather, torn by the heartfelt words, while at the same time wondering how her conscience could handle knowing that she was involved with a married man. Even if he was married in name only.
Since he’d come to her apartment, she and Alex had been cordial to each other. They’d dined together on one occasion, but she still had her reservations and didn’t go to his place or invite him to hers. She needed to keep a clear head, and spending time with him alone in either environment was too tempting a prospect.
“Sherry?”
She turned around to face Heather. The blonde’s eyes were pleading and filled with tears. “He’s done so much for me.” Her voice quivered. “Please, let me do this one thing for him.”
The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and Sherry went to the bed and retook her seat in the chair. She took Heather’s hand between both of hers.
“Please forgive him,” Heather said. “I couldn’t bear to know I’m the reason he can’t be happy.”
Sherry gently squeezed Heather’s frail fingers between her own. Alex had lied to her, even knowing how important a relationship built on trust was to her. But, love was important to him. Their ideals were at odds, but his love for Heather and what he’d done to save her demonstrated his goodness. Could Sherry overlook his gross mistake?
Heather stared at her.
“I can forgive him,” Sherry said.
Heather sniffed and wiped away the tears from her cheeks. A bright smile widened her face, and her dull eyes brightened a bit. Sherry saw a hint of the vibrant young woman in the photo on Alex’s bookshelf. Before the illness had stolen the brightness from her eyes, the glow in her skin, and the sheen of her hair.
“Thank you,” Heather whispered. “Could you do me one more favor?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Alex said you’re a praying woman. Would you pray with me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Not to get better. It’s too late for that.”
“Anything is possible.”
“Not this time. And besides, I’m ready to go. The past two years have been hell. I have one lung and can only see out of one eye. One of my kidneys has failed, I’ve been in a medically induced coma, and frankly, I don’t have the strength I used to. I want to go in peace. Just drift away. Without pain. Would you pray with me for that?”
“I…” Sherry hesitated. People usually prayed for deliverance from illness. Not to succumb to the illness.
“I’m asking for mercy. That’s all.”
Sherry’s bottom lip trembled as she absorbed the magnitude of the request. She clasped Sherry’s hand in both of hers. “Okay. Let’s pray.”
Alex opened the door and stood in the doorway dressed only in a pair of sweatpants. He frowned in confusion. Ever since he’d woken up at Sherry’s apartment the other day, having spent the night with her wrapped in his arms, he’d tried to respect her request for time.
“Hi,” Sherry said.
“Hi.”
“I went to see her.”
“Who?” The frown in his brow deepened. “Heather?”
She nodded. “Rashad gave her my number.” Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, except that I understand.”
His chest rose and fell with a silent breath. “I should have told you about Heather right away. But everything—we—happened so fast.”
She nodded and stared at the ground. She swallowed hard. The silence extended between them as she collected herself. Finally, she looked up into his face. “I love you,” she whispered.
The words he’d been waiting to hear.
Alex spread his arms wide, and Sherry stepped into his embrace, absorbing his warmth and the familiar scent of his skin.
“I love you,” she whispered again.
“I love you too, amor. You’re all I think about. Every day. Every minute. Solo puedo pensar en ti.” He buried his face in her neck and squeezed her tight.
Pulling her across the threshold, he kissed away her tears. They made their way to his bedroom and curled up on the bed together. He just held her, rubbing a hand up and down her spine in a soothing refrain. She wanted to get closer because she had desperately missed having this closeness with him.
“You’ll wait?” he asked. “As soon as she’s better, we’ll get a divorce.”
He was holding out hope, but Heather had already given up. Nonetheless, Sherry nodded. “Yes. I’ll wait.”
She held on tight, wrapping her arms and legs around him as if her life depended on it.
15
On Friday afternoon, Sherry walked up to Gina’s desk. “Hi, is Alex in? I called his private line but he didn’t answer. I have some papers for him to sign.” She held up the documents.
“He left early. Rushed out of here a little after lunch.”
“Is something wrong?”
Gina shrugged. “He didn’t say, but it was definitely sudden. He told me to cancel his afternoon meetings.”
“Okay. I’ll get Rashad to sign off.” Gnawing on her lip, Sherry walked away. Once she got Rashad’s signature, she’d give Alex a call on his cell phone.
At the other end of the building, she walked up to Rashad’s receptionist, a heavyset brunette with a pixie cut. “Hi, is Rashad in? I have paperwork I need him to sign.”
“No. He left and didn’t say when he’d be coming back. Family emergency.”
Oh no. With both of them out of the office suddenly, that could only mean one thing.
Sherry went to her office, but for the next hour, she had a hard time concentrating, particularly after she tried to reach Rashad and Alex and neither one of them answered their phones. Unable to stand worrying any longer, she picked up her bag and rushed down the hall. Sailing past the receptionist at the front of the office, she called, “I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”
She headed to the hospital, having no doubt that was where they were.
Sherry walked down the hall on wobbly knees. She hesitated outside Heather’s room and looked through the window. Alex and Rashad were in there. Rashad sat in front of the windowsill on a chair, elbows to knees, gripping his bent head. Alex sat in a chair beside Heather’s bed, holding one of her hands.
Last Saturday, Sherry had come to the hospital with Rashad and Alex. Today, Heather looked frailer than the last time Sherry had seen her, and there were extra machines in the room that hadn’t been there the last time she visited, confirming the dire situation.
Sherry quietly entered the room and let the door swing closed behind her. “What happened?”
Rashad’s head popped up. He directed his gaze at Alex to respond to the question. Alex glanced over his shoulder and then returned his attention to Heather.
“Her lung failed,” he said in an emotionless voice. “She’s on a breathing machine now. They’re not holding out much hope.” On the last sentence, pain, as thick as molasses, coated his voice.
Rashad winced and bowed his head into his hands again.
Sherry took one of the chairs and placed it beside Alex. He didn’t look at her. He kept his attention on his friend.
Sherry took his other hand and sandwiched it between both of hers. Their fingers interlocked with each other. If nothing else, she wanted him to know that she would be there for him in his time of need.
Complications.
That was how the doctor explained th
at her heart and lung just gave up. That was why Alex, Sherry, and Rashad were standing on the deck of a boat, several miles out from the port of Savannah, with Heather’s ashes in an urn.
Alex and Rashad had rented the vessel and crew from a company that conducted memorial services at sea and assisted in the scattering of ashes. Heather had always wanted to visit Savannah, and they’d promised her when she got better they would take a trip there. Just like they’d all taken a trip to Colombia, to see Alex’s home. Just like they’d taken road trips back in college, scrounging up enough money to cover gas and the cost of sandwiches they made to take on their weekend adventures.
Heather never took the trip to Savannah while alive, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be her final resting place. The ceremony had been short and sweet, with Alex and Rashad sharing stories about Heather to the small audience.
At the end of it, the captain said a few words and Alex handed over the urn to him. The captain crouched on the deck and, using a special device, released the ashes into the water instead of letting them float up into the air. Another crew member approached with a basket that contained red roses. All three of them—Alex, Sherry, and Rashad—selected two roses each and, one by one, tossed them into the water to float among Heather’s remains.
The crew left them alone at the railing, and Sherry moved and stood between Rashad on her left and Alex on her right. Both men were stoic, jaws clenched, their expressions somber.
She took Rashad’s hand and leaned her weight into Alex’s arm, holding his hand tight to simultaneously receive and offer strength. In a short time, she’d fallen in love with Alex, become close to Rashad, and come to view Heather as a friend.
A tear ran unchecked down her cheek. She didn’t experience the depth of pain they did at Heather’s passing, but her heart still hurt that she was gone. She gained some comfort in knowing that perhaps praying with Heather over a week ago had played a small part in helping her die in peace.
But her heart hurt for Heather’s two brothers, standing on either side of her, and she wished there could have been a different outcome.
16
Rain dropped to the street below and puddled on the stone terrace outside the French doors of the boutique hotel in Medellín, Colombia.
“Come back to bed.” Alex’s husky voice came from behind Sherry.
They’d stayed out late the night before, dancing at a small salsa bar near Parque Lleras in the upscale neighborhood of El Poblado. Afterward, they hung out in the street with the rest of the partygoers, chatting and laughing with a mix of locals and foreigners, before heading to a twenty-four-hour cafe for a quick bite and then finally returning to the hotel.
Sherry turned away from the window but left the curtains open so they could enjoy the sight of the rain as well as listen to the soothing way it hit the exterior of the building. She let Alex’s shirt from the night before, which she’d pulled on as a cover-up, fall from her shoulders into a puddle on the floor.
She climbed into the bed and scooted over to Alex, and he repositioned onto his side and pulled her close. They were both naked, preferring the intimacy of sleeping skin to skin, their warm bodies in constant contact throughout the night.
Sliding a leg between both of his, Sherry groaned grumpily and pouted. “Can’t we stay here forever?”
He smiled indulgently at her. “I have a business to run, and we both have clients to take care of.”
“But we could work remotely, and Rashad could handle any problems that crop up in Atlanta.”
“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” Alex said, amused.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and it could work.”
At least, she wanted the idea to work. Sherry had never been out of the country before, and the benefit of seeing Colombia with a native meant a more special and memorable experience. Alex knew the local hangouts and best places to visit, not just the tourist hotspots. He knew where to shop for cheap and authentic souvenirs made in-country, and the restaurants that served the best of local cuisine.
She’d tried bandeja paisa, often referred to as the country’s national dish. Her eyes had widened when the high-calorie meal had been placed before her. The platter contained rice, fried plantains, arepa—a corn cake—avocado, minced meat, chorizo, black sausage, a fried pork rind, and a fried egg. Alex and the waitress had had a good laugh at her expense. She couldn’t eat it all, but made such a valiant effort that she ended up stuffed and didn’t eat another bite for the rest of the day.
Her favorite food discovery by far was chocolate con queso. At first, the idea of cheese dipped in hot chocolate did not sound appetizing, but she’d quickly grown accustomed, and it was now a breakfast staple.
“Your parents didn’t even want you to come here, so they wouldn’t be pleased with that arrangement,” Alex pointed out. “They will accuse me of kidnapping their daughter.”
“My parents gave their blessing to marry me, remember?” Sherry wiggled her hand in front of his face so he could see the marquise-cut diamond on her finger.
They’d gone to visit her parents in Kentucky at Christmas, and unbeknownst to Sherry, he’d asked for their blessing because he planned to ask for her hand in marriage while they were in Colombia. They both gave their blessing but didn’t like the idea of her ringing in the New Year in Colombia. Alex had assured them Bogotá and Medellín were no less safe than any major city in the United States.
“We’ll be back again, plenty of times,” Alex said, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm. “I come back at least once a year, sometimes twice. Who knows, maybe we’ll buy a place here.”
“Yes, let’s do that. I love that idea.”
He pulled her atop him. “And I love you.” He let his hands slip below the sheet to cup her bottom.
Sherry brushed dark hair back from his forehead. “I love you too.”
“¿Cuánto?” How much?
“Mucho, mucho, mucho,” Sherry whispered.
Alex cupped her face and gazed into her eyes. “No puedo imaginarme mi vida sin ti.”
Sherry’s heart swelled with happiness. “I can’t imagine my life without you, either.”
She always melted when he expressed his feelings for her with such sweet words, and when he looked at her like now—all intense, his hazel eyes filled with love and speaking in his native tongue—it never failed to turn her on.
She rotated her hips against his. Never breaking eye contact, Alex squeezed her bottom and lifted his pelvis just enough to tease her with his hardening body.
“Do you have any plans for us today?” Sherry asked.
“Nothing that can’t be changed,” Alex replied.
Sherry threaded her fingers through the hair at his temple. “We have three days left in Medellín. How about we take a break from sightseeing and stay in to enjoy this lazy, rainy day?”
“But what will we do? How will we stay busy?” Alex frowned with faux-concern.
“Hmmm, I’m sure we can think of something.”
He rolled her onto her back, and she giggled, flinging her arms around his neck.
Alex settled between her legs, heat flaring in his eyes. “I’m sure we can.”
They made love, hungry kisses and firm caresses expressing their affection and desire for one another, while the thrusting motion of their hips lifted them higher to the zenith. As tension twisted in her abdomen, Sherry tightened her arms and legs around Alex, and their forged bodies rocked together in sync.
When they finally came, his guttural groans and her gasping cries mingled with the sound of rain pelting the rooftop, the exterior walls, and the windows of their temporary abode.
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Delaney Diamond is the USA Today Bestselling Author of sweet, sensual, passionate romance novels. Originally from the U.S. Virgin Islands, she now lives in Atlanta, Georgia. She reads romance novels, mysteries, thrillers, and a fair amount of nonfiction. When she’s not busy reading or writing, she’s in the kitchen trying out new recipes, dining at one of her favorite restaurants, or traveling to an interesting locale.
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A Powerful Attraction (Quicksand Book 1) Page 9