by M. Never
“Too cliché.” he laughs, regarding me.
I flip him the finger. “That wasn’t planned.”
But I’m happy as hell that it happened.
ELLIE HAS BEEN UNCONSCIOUS FOR three days.
I haven’t left her side for one minute. I’ve basically moved into her hospital room. I eat, sleep, and shower here. I’ll live here for the rest of my life if I have to.
We put Alec, Monica, and Tara up in a hotel nearby so they can come and go as they please. Presently, Alec is pacing the hallway. The man doesn’t sit still. I now know where Ellie gets it. Monica is sitting beside me watching Ellie, and Tara is having lunch with Juice. Not sure how I feel about that. He says it’s innocent, but we’ll see. We call him Juice for a reason.
I’ve spent the most time with Monica. Despite my issues with women, matriarchal figures in particular, she quickly grew on me. She’s nurturing and mellow and very non-threatening. All the same traits that drew me to Ellie.
“I remember that night,” Monica says randomly, staring at Ellie.
“What night?”
“The night she was going to meet you. She was so excited, on another level even for Ellie.” Monica smiles. Her dark-brown hair is pulled back in a low ponytail and her bangs are falling into her eyes. I don’t think she’s slept since she arrived. “Tara kept teasing her, and she and Alec were fighting over her dress,” she reminisces.
“He didn’t approve?”
“The man has died seven times over from the girl’s wardrobe alone.” She glances over at me amused.
“Really?” I say intrigued.
“Yes. Those girls drive him nuts. But Ellie is Ellie, and she does what she wants. She kissed us goodbye,” Monica’s eyes water, “then she disappeared.”
Oh, shit.
“She went through a lot,” I say softly, a mix of guilt and impenitence battling inside me.
Monica nods, wiping away a stray tear. “She did. I don’t you two crossed paths again, but I’m glad. I could see how much she liked you.”
“I sought her out,” I tell her truthfully. “I really liked her, too. Now I love her.”
“That’s very clear.”
“What was Ellie like as a child?” I ask, wanting to know as much about her past as possible. If I can’t ask Ellie, I can ask the next best person.
“A pain in the ass,” Monica laughs.
“What?”
“She was. She never stopped moving, she got into everything and was independent to a fault. We used to call her Hurricane Elizabeth.”
I chuckle. “That is surprisingly a very accurate nickname.” Considering the way she turned my world upside down.
“She was also very loving and so, so adorable. Like a living doll. She could knock you over with just one dimpled smile. I think that’s how she survived childhood. She had us all wrapped around her little finger.” Monica is now laughing and crying all at the same time. I’m not sure how to interpret that.
“It’s how I survive adulthood, too,” Ellie murmurs, and both Monica and I jump up. “How did you two end up in the same room?” she asks as she cracks her eyes open. I think I’m about to start laughing and crying.
“Were you eavesdropping on us?” I ask, as my heart starts beating again with short shallow pumps.
“Yes. You’re not the only one who can spy,” she responds groggy.
Monica shoots me a funny look. I grin uncomfortably. “Inside joke.”
“Oh, well I guess that’s a good sign that she’s making jokes.”
“Why does it feel like I was shot?” Ellie groans in pain.
“Because you were,” Monica tells her kissing her forehead. “I have to go get the doctor and your father,” she announces overjoyed. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
Once she’s out of the room, Ellie looks up at me confused. I want to smother her with kisses, but I brush my lips lightly all over her face instead.
“How long have I been out?” she strains.
“Three days.” I kiss her lips, reacquainting myself with the feel of them. “I’m sorry, baby,” I nearly weep, the guilt eating me alive.
“Sorry for what?”
“Everything. Every single second of suffering I’ve ever caused you.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she grimaces as she tries to move.
“That’s a fucking lie, and we both know it.”
“Kayne, don’t. Just tell me it’s over.” She says exhausted.
“It is. He’s dead.”
Ellie’s eyes start to cloud with tears. She’s been up for five seconds, and she’s upset already.
“Do you know?” Her lip quivers.
I nod solemnly.
“Do my parents know?” Her voice tapers off.
I shake my head.
“Good,” she sighs with relief.
“Do you remember everything that happened?” I ask delicately.
“Yes,” tears drip down her face.
I grab her cheeks in my hands and wipe away the wetness with my thumbs. My heart cracks in nine different directions. It’s amazing how many times that muscle can be destroyed and still keep working.
“I killed him, Ellie,” I tell her with conviction. Like somehow that’s supposed to make everything better.
“Good. I hope it hurt.”
“I can assure you it did.”
“Can I please have some water?” She tries to sit up.
“Lie down,” I order. “I’ll get it.” I dutifully pour her a glass and press the straw to her lips, allowing her take several long sips.
“Thank you,” she smiles weakly.
“You’re welcome.” I skim my knuckles across her face. God, I can’t believe how much I missed touching her. “I’m not going to leave your side. We’re going to get better together.”
“We?” she asks concerned. “Are you hurt?”
I nod, rubbing my chest. “Funny thing about pain,” I laugh, not finding anything funny about it at all. “It’s a hell of a lot easier to deal with the physical than it is to deal with the emotional. I could run twelve miles and ignore the burning in my legs or take a bullet and withstand the throbbing in my arm. But try to take away someone I love? There’s no escaping that agony. I may not be lying in a hospital bed, but I’m still injured.”
Ellie sighs trying to hold back the overload of emotion that is so clearly evident on her face. “What now?”
I smile. “We move forward. We can get married, have children, travel. Whatever you want to do.”
“No children,” she fires back at me spontaneously.
I look at her funny. “Why no children?”
Her dark-green eyes widen and completely well with tears. “Kayne, my mother needed more therapy than I did after I came home. And after going through what I went through—” she wipes her cheeks as large the reflective droplets fall, “there’s so much evil in this world. I don’t think I could handle it.” She starts to cry so hard she can’t breathe. “I don’t think I could handle—” I wrap her snugly in my arms. “Okay, Ellie. It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about any of that right now.” I let her sob on my shoulder, worried someone is going to walk through the door any second. I don’t want her family to see her like this. “Shhhh . . .”
“You still want to marry me even though I don’t want kids?” She sniffles, eyes puffy and face red.
“Of course I do,” I assure her. “You are the only person I need in this world. Whatever makes you happy will make me happy. Okay?”
She nods sternly, burying her face in the crook of my arm.
“Please don’t cry,” I beg her. “Everything will be okay.”
I hear the door swing open as Monica, Alec, Tara, Juice, and the doctor on rounds appears in the room.
“Where’s my little girl?” Alec announces. I reluctantly let go of Ellie, and I have to give it to her, she puts on her bravest face. She really is the most resilient person I have ever met.
“Right here, Daddy.” She r
ubs her eyes and smiles.
I step back and watch as she’s showered with love, hoping like hell everything really is going to be okay.
IT HAS BEEN ONE VERY long, tiring, trying week. Ellie spent the last seven days recuperating in the hospital, and today she finally gets to go home. I watch as she signs the discharge papers the nurse hands to her and listens as the sweet older woman explains how to change her dressings and which medications she should take when. She’s been prescribed so many antibiotics, pain killers and anti-depressants, she could start her own cartel.
“I’m going to get the car.” I kiss her head once she sitting in the wheelchair.
She nods silently. Silent. That’s Ellie these days. Her superficial wounds may be healing, but more often than not she’s lost inside her head.
It’s making me a lunatic. I worry nonstop. I don’t eat, I barely sleep, terrified that Michael may have succeeded in taking her away from me. He might not have killed her, but her spirit is definitely broken, and I’m scrambling to figure out how to fix it.
I pull up to the front of the hospital just as Ellie is wheeled outside. It’s another perfect day in paradise. Blue skies, white puffy clouds and rainbows in the distance. Ellie’s parents went home yesterday, leaving her in my care. We may all be screwed. To say I’m not nervous would be lying. We’ve had this discussion—I’ve never looked after another person in my life. Never had anyone have to depend on me, or commit myself to caring for another person. But I’m going to do my damndest with Ellie.
I just hope it’s enough.
I help her gingerly climb into the car, and then hop in the driver’s seat.
She looks around the interior strangely.
“Whose car is this?” she asks mildly confused.
“Mine.”
“You drive?” I almost think she’s trying to be funny.
I snicker. “Of course I drive. Why’d you say that?” I punch on the engine and the Jag rumbles to life.
“Because I’ve never seen you drive a car before.” She grabs her seat, surprised by the vibrations. “You always showed up in a limo when you came to Expo and we were carted all over the place in Bora Bora. Jett even drove the boat to and from the airport.”
I laugh to myself as I put on my sunglasses. Oh, how little does she know. I can drive all sorts of thing.
“Well, I guess I’m full of surprises.” I press a button and the roof retracts, Ellie squints as the sun shine hits her face. I open the glove compartment. “Sunglasses?” I hand her a brand new pair that Jett picked out especially for her.
“Thank you.” She takes them, smiling shyly. “What kind of car is this anyway?” she asks, gliding her hand over the door handle.
“Jaguar F-Type.” I hit the gas in my black V8 and take off.
“One of your toys?” Ellie inquires, as her hair blows in the wind.
“One of the many.” I grin carefree, placing my hand over hers, and just drive.
I notice Ellie start to look around curiously as we drive through and then out of Waikiki.
“Where are we going?” she asks confused.
“Home,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off the road.
I feel her staring at me peculiarly. I just smirk and continue to drive.
Ten minutes later we are rolling through the Diamond Head section of Honolulu.
“Seriously, where are you taking me?” she asks again, and I can’t stop myself from smiling widely.
“I told you,” I pull into a driveway. “Home.” I throw the car in park.
Ellie freezes as she takes in the two-story stucco house.
“Exactly whose home are we going to?”
“Ours.” I hop out of the car.
“Ours?” she repeats perplexed as I walk around the convertible, open her door and carefully help her stand up.
I think it’s a record. That’s the most she’s spoken in a week.
“Yup.” I take her hand and lead her to the front door. The walkway is landscaped with lots of bright island flowers and tall green trees. Once inside, Ellie gasps. Yeah, it’s pretty insane. I fell in love with the house as soon as I saw it online. It was so different and modern, yet homey as well. The website boasted it was an award-winning design, inspired by the shape of a sundial, the back of the house curved with one hundred, eighty degree views of the ocean and mountains. Between you and me, I had already put an offer in prior to leaving for Bora Bora. It was some serious wishful thinking on my part, but I couldn’t help myself. Every time I looked at it, I could see Ellie and me living here.
I walk her through the kitchen decorated with light cabinets and dark granite. I grab a small remote off the counter and continue straight back into the living room. I glance at Ellie taking it all in. Then I hit a button and the electric curtains rise. The entire room is made of windows, and as they lift, an unobstructed view of the Pacific blinds us, as if we’re sitting right on top of it.
“Oh my God.” Ellie puts her hand over her mouth as she looks out over the lani, curved swimming pool hugging the house, and vast blue water.
“Like it?” I ask nervously.
She doesn’t answer, just stares straight ahead.
“Ellie?” I put my hand on nape of her neck and rub my thumb back and forth over her skin. “You don’t like it?” I frown disappointed.
Like she snaps out of a trance she looks up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. I can’t tell if they’re happy or sad, but by the looks of it, it may be the latter.
“Oh no,” she sniffles. “I love it. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
“Then what’s wrong?” I hear the distress in my own voice.
“Nothing. Everything,” she contradicts herself.
“Well, which is it?” I search her face. “Baby, you can talk to me.”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts out.
“For what?” My heart stops.
“I keep trying to convince myself I’m stronger than what happened, but I just keep getting sucked down. It’s like I can’t breathe and I can’t fight.” She starts to cry. I pull her against me and let her sob into my chest. “I don’t want to be broken, but I think that I am.”
Thank god, finally she speaks!
I stroke her hair and hold her close.
“Ellie, if there’s one thing I’ve learned being with you, things that are broken can always be fixed. They can be made stronger. You make me stronger, and I’m the most broken person I know.”
She lifts her head and looks at me with soaking wet eyes.
“How am I going to get stronger?”
I smile down at her. “You’re going to fight. And I’m going to help you. If there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s fight.”
I hug her and she squeaks in pain, but she holds on to me, inhaling me like I’m air, like I’m the oxygen she needs to breathe.” Use me, Ellie. I told you before—get mad, scream, hit me, beat me, torture me if you want. I’ll endure it all if it will help you get better.”
She sighs heavily, “I think all I really need is for you to lay with me.”
I chuckle. That’s exactly what she said to me the first night in Bora Bora. The same words that opened the doorway for our relationship to heal. I’m hopeful for the first time in over a week.
“Whatever you need, Ellie.” I reassure her.
“I have exactly what I need.” She draws in a small shaky breath and gazes up at me. “You.”
One year later
“TIME TO WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD!” Tara jumps on me.
“Umph.” I jolt awake.
“Someone has to get beautiful for her wedding day,” she sings, her blue eyes bright, platinum-blonde hair even brighter. She used to wake me up the same way when we were kids.
“Nice to see nothing has changed.” I try to push her off me.
“You missed me, admit.”
“I’ll admit I missed pulling your hair when you annoyed me.” I yank on her long strands.
“Ouch!” she laughs.
“Serves you right! Disturbing the bride’s beauty sleep.”
“You’re going to need way more than eight hours to help you with your beauty.”
“Bitch!” We both laugh as I hit her with a pillow. “And I can’t believe you pierced your nose!” I grab her face and examine the tiny stud. It actually looks good on her.
“It’s not the only thing I pierced.” She pops her eyebrows at me.
“You didn’t!”
“I did! Want to see?” She bounces around the bed overflowing with white Egyptian sheets.
“No!” I smack her with a pillow again. “Please keep your panties in their place.”
“Who says I’m wearing any?” Tara laughs.
“Slut.”
“Call me whatever you want. The orgasms are worth it! You should totally do it.”
I pause, thinking of all the ways Kayne could possibly torture me if I had a clit ring.
My blood heats. I might consider it.
“This came for you, by the way.” She hands me a box wrapped in silver paper with a white bow.
“When?” I sit up and take it from her.
“Just now. CJ dropped it off.” She grins wickedly.
Oh no, I know that look.
“He’s yummy.” She sucks on her bottom lip like she can already taste him.
“Tara,” I chide.
“What?”
“I noticed the two of you flirting last night.”
“So?” She bats her eyelashes innocently.
“He’s ten years older than you,” I point out.
“So?” she repeats.
“I’m not sure Kayne would approve.” Actually, I know he wouldn’t approve since I overheard him threatening Juice’s life if he touched her.
“Well, Kayne isn’t my father,” she argues.
“I’m not sure our father would approve, either.”
“He doesn’t approve of anything we do.” She rolls her eyes dismissively.
She has me there.
“Look, this day isn’t about me.” She changes the subject artfully, clearly done with this conversation. “So open your present already so we can drink some mimosas and start getting ready!”
“Fine.” I appease her. Besides, I think her and Juice sort of make a cute couple, even if it would be short lived—like four days long since they live on opposite sides of the country.