by Lauren Rowe
Chapter 56
Aloha
Thanks for the update,” Brett says into his phone. He’s talking to someone from NYPD. I’m wringing my hands. Doing my breathing exercises.
We’re sitting in a hospital waiting room. Crystal is sitting between us.
Brett looks somber. Exhausted. Tormented. He’s still got Zander’s blood all over his shirt from when he gave him CPR and applied a tourniquet.
Crystal looks like a zombie.
And me? I haven’t looked at myself in a mirror, but I’m sure I look every bit as bloodstained as Brett and ten times as zombified as Crystal. Because I’ve never felt soul-rending despair like this. Heart-wrenching torment. As I sit here with Zander’s blood all over me, I feel like I’m a heartbeat away from having a full-blown psychotic break.
Crystal offered to grab me some fresh clothes from the hotel a few minutes ago, but I refused. I don’t want to wash Zander’s blood off me until I know for sure he’s going to live. If my husband dies because of me, because of my recklessness, my craziness, if that saint dies saving my worthless, stupid life, especially after the stunt I pulled, then I’ve already decided I’m going to lie down next to his body, covered in his blood, and perish along with him. Because it’s abundantly clear to me now I can’t live without him. And I certainly couldn’t live with myself if he died, knowing he traded his beautiful, bright, pure soul for my tainted, damaged, selfish, hideous, worthless one. If I hadn’t sent that text to Daphne, none of this would have happened.
“We don’t know yet. He’s still in surgery,” Brett says on his phone call. He listens for a moment and then says, “Will do. And you do the same.” He ends his call and looks at me sympathetically. “Do you want to hear the news?”
“Yes.”
“She was devastated by your marriage to Z. He was her target, not a mistake. But she was gonna be gunning for you, right after him. If she couldn’t have you for herself, then she didn’t want anyone to have you.”
“Jesus,” Crystal mutters.
“I’m sorry, Aloha,” Brett says, his voice breaking. “I fucked up so badly.”
I look at him, incredulously. “You were a hero tonight.”
“No. I didn’t spot her when I went out there. If only I’d—”
“You tackled her to the ground, Brett. You got the gun away from her. And, most importantly, you saved Zander’s life. You heard the doctor. If it hadn’t been for the CPR and aid you administered, Zander would have been dead on arrival at the hospital.”
“But I had her photo on my phone. And I didn’t notice her.” His eyes are full of anguish. “But Zander did. He recognized her right away. I could see it on his face the minute he came out the door. That’s how I knew to run over there: the look on Zander’s face told me you were in danger.”
“Brett, stop. Please. It’s my fault, not yours. I’m the one who sent my husband’s ex-girlfriend a text, pretending to be him and inviting her to my concert. I set everything in motion tonight. It was me.” I put my hands over my face. “Oh, God. I’m going to hell where I’ll have to live for eternity with my mother instead of up in heaven with my beautiful Zander. And I’ll deserve it.”
“Don’t say that,” Crystal says fiercely, grabbing my arm. “Aloha, you made a mistake, but one thing has nothing to do with the other. A text didn’t get Zander shot tonight. And, more importantly, nobody’s going to heaven or hell any time soon because Z’s gonna pull through this.”
We both look toward the door of the waiting room at the same time, willing the surgeon to walk through it and give us good news, even though we’re well aware the surgery won’t be finished for hours.
Crystal’s phone buzzes and she looks down. “The Seattle group just took off. The LA group should be taking off in about twenty minutes. I booked Zahara Shaw on a commercial flight out of Portland in the morning. Sorry, that’s the first flight I could arrange for her from there.”
“Zander’s mom?”
“She’s with the Morgan group that just took off from Seattle.”
I wipe my eyes and nod. “I just hope and pray his mother will forgive me.”
“Aloha, stop that. A text, even a stupid one, didn’t get Zander shot by a deranged lunatic.”
“Mrs. Shaw?” a male nurse says. He made the mistake of calling me Miss Carmichael earlier, but I corrected him.
I stand, panic slamming me, and the man’s face immediately melts.
“Don’t worry, I just came out to reassure you that the surgery is going well so far, but it’s still going to be hours yet. So if you want to wash off that blood and change, maybe head to the cafeteria for a bit, you won’t miss anything.”
“I’ll wait here.”
The nurse touches my arm. “Aloha, please. Go wash off the blood so Zander doesn’t see it when he gets out of surgery and wants to see your beautiful face. We don’t want him waking up and thinking, even for a second, that you’ve been injured.”
My chest heaves. “Will he wake up?”
“The doctor said it’s looking good. So let’s have faith, okay?”
I wipe my eyes and nod. “Thank you.” I rise, determination flooding me. “You’re right. Zander’s going to wake up. And when he does, he’ll need me to be the strong one. And that’s exactly what I’m going to be.”
Chapter 57
Aloha
I tiptoe into Zander’s room in the ICU.
He’s lying on a metal bed, hooked up to tubes and wires. His breathing is slow and rhythmic. The heart monitor next to the bed is beeping. His right shoulder and upper chest are bandaged. His arm is in a sling. He reminds me of a sleek racehorse felled on the track. How can someone so strong and powerful look so vulnerable and powerless? The sight of him is breaking my heart.
I bend down and kiss Zander’s full lips, ever so gently, and his groggy eyes flutter open.
“Hi,” I say softly.
“Hi,” he whispers, almost inaudibly.
“I love you,” I say. “With all my heart and soul. Forever.”
He smiles weakly. Mouths the words “I love you,” and drifts off again before I can launch into the apology I have on the tip of my tongue.
A nurse appears and tends to him.
I take a step back and give her a wide berth to perform her duties. She takes his vital signs. Checks his IV bag and bandages. She taps something out onto an iPad and then leaves.
Not knowing what else to do, I sit at Zander’s bedside, thread my fingers into his, lower my head, and sob.
Chapter 58
Aloha
Sunlight is streaming into the hospital room, bathing Zander’s beautiful features in ethereal light. I haven’t left his bedside for three days, other than to shower in a hospital facility and grab an occasional bite. Zander’s mother, sister, Keane, and Maddy, are in the same boat as me. None of them has left Zander’s side, either. The rest of the family—the Morgans and Barry—have camped out in the ICU waiting room. I’m not sure about their comings and goings.
Zander woke up minutes ago seeming not nearly as drugged out as he’s been before. Particularly alert and talkative. So, of course, every person in the room, except for me, has taken the opportunity to chat with him. To tell him how much they love him. How worried they’ve been. How they can’t live without him. Keane just left. Once he got talking, he started bawling like a baby and had to leave the room. Maddy followed him out. And now there’s only Momma Shaw, Zahara, and me standing over his bed. And I’m the only one who hasn’t taken advantage of his alertness to say what needs to be said. Because, of course, what I need to say must be said in private.
I ask Zander’s mom and sister if they wouldn’t mind clearing out for a few minutes so I can talk to Zander alone, and, thankfully, they don’t seem the least bit offended.
The second they’re gone, an apology hurtles out of me.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Zander says softly. “The woman was deranged. You can’t blame yourself for attracting—”
>
“No, I’m sorry for hacking into your phone and making Daphne think you’d invited her to my show. Zander, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know. But I’m begging you for it, anyway. I’m so, so sorry. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you in the path of danger.”
“The path of danger? Aloha, you sent a text. A batshit crazy text that made me furious with you. A text that hurt my feelings. But your text didn’t get me shot. A deranged woman with a gun did that.”
“But I set everything in motion.”
“Aloha, no. Listen to me. This isn’t up for debate. You sent a text. A bullshit, cray-cray text that pissed me off. But all you did was invite my ex—a flower-child art student who wouldn’t hurt a fly—to your concert. You didn’t think I’d want Daphne. Of course, not. You just wanted to test me—to see if I’d get pissed enough about it to leave you. It was stupid and insulting and batshit. But it wasn’t getting me shot, Aloha.” He pauses. “Look, I know why you did it, baby. It was just another form of cutting. You didn’t do it to hurt me, you did it to hurt you.”
My lips part with surprise.
“But you know what? I’m the guy who told you to give me your pain. The one who told you to cut me, instead of you. So, in the end, I can’t really be angry with you if that’s exactly what you did.”
Tears flood my eyes. “I’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never test your love again. If you’ll let me, I’ll just love you. And trust you. And be yours. If you’ll just, please, forgive me.”
He touches my hand and I grasp it like a lifeline.
“Aloha, of course, I forgive you. And, of course, I still love you and want to be loved by you. There’s no cut or mark or fuck-up or insecurity or insanity that will make me stop loving you. Don’t you get it? There’s no need to push me away before I leave first because I’m not going anywhere, ever.”
I clutch his hand, relief and love flooding me. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do. Because I’m irresistible. If I were you, I’d be madly in love with me, too.”
I laugh through my tears. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying my damnedest to deserve you.”
He beams a smile at me... but his eyelids are starting to look heavy.
I stroke his forehead for a moment. “Time to rest, my love.”
He yawns.
“I’m gonna take such good care of you. I told Crystal to cancel the international tour so I can be your nurse.”
He looks crestfallen. “Man, I was really looking forward to the international tour. I’ve never even been out of the States.”
“Honey, you don’t need a tour to see the world. You’re married to me, remember? And I love to travel. When you’re all better, we’ll go anywhere you want to go.”
“Do you think you could keep the last month of the tour on-calendar? Maybe just Australia? It would motivate me to get better. The timing for the Australian dates would be perfect, based on what the doctor said.”
“Sure, honey. We can always cancel the dates later, if needed.”
“Won’t be needed. You heard the doctor. I’m gonna be as good as new, doing partner workouts with my wife again, in no time.”
A lump rises in my throat. “You don’t regret making me your wife?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve never regretted anything less in my life. I’d marry you all over again tomorrow.”
I clutch my heart. “Let’s do it, baby. The minute you’re out of the ICU, let’s get married again for real, this time in front of everyone we love the most.”
“For real? Vegas was real.”
“No, Vegas was legal. Maybe semi-real. But when I said ‘I do,’ I wasn’t fully on-board like I should have been. I loved you and wanted to take a leap with you. I was exhilarated. But was I thinking I was vowing forever to you? Hell no. In fact, I might have crossed my fingers during my vows at one point. Maybe. It’s all a blur.”
“Aloha.”
“You should be happy about that. All it means is you get to marry your hot little wife again, only this time in front of everyone you love. Really, you should thank me.”
He smiles. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” I clasp his hand. “So you’ll marry me again in a couple days?”
“I’ll marry you any ol’ time you like, as many times as you’d like.”
“Wonderful. This time, Z, I promise: when I vow to be yours forever and ever, for eternity and beyond, I’ll mean every freaking word.”
Chapter 59
Zander
Do you, Aloha, take Zander to be your lawfully wedded husband, forsaking all others as long as you both shall live?”
It’s the hospital chaplain asking that question. And just to be clear, he’s asking it of the spectacularly beautiful and talented, but slightly unhinged, woman who’s already my wife.
Aloha smiles down at me in my hospital bed, and answers the chaplain with words that are music to my heart: “I do.”
“Lemme see your free hand, wife,” I say, and Aloha holds up the hand that’s not clasped with mine, splaying her fingers to prove she’s not secretly crossing them.
“Toes?” I say. “Somebody do a toe-check for me, pronto.”
“She’s good,” Keane says, looking down. “Those pedicured toes are most definitely not crossed, sweet meat.”
“Excellent.” I nod to the chaplain. “Proceed.”
The chaplain chuckles along with everyone else. “And do you, Zander, take Aloha to be your lawfully wedded wife, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” I say. “Longer than that, actually. Because I’ma tell you right now, I’m planning to listen to Aloha sing to me in heaven, the same way she used to sing to me when we were little blobs floating around together in the primordial goop.”
Aloha giggles. “Zander.”
I glance around the large room—the well-appointed “VIP” hospital room Aloha snagged for me when I got out of the ICU two days ago. And, as I look at all the faces of the people I love the most, I’m slammed with yet another tsunami of gratitude that I’m alive and kicking. Holy Baby Jesus, I thought I was a goner as I lay on the asphalt outside Madison Square Garden a week ago. From what I’ve been told, I actually cheated death that night. Maybe even technically died at one point before the ambulance arrived. If it hadn’t been for Brett flying into action at the scene, all these people would probably be sobbing over my casket right now instead of crying happy tears at my second wedding.
Speaking of which...
The chaplain says, “By the authority vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife, Zander and Aloha Shaw. Again.”
Everyone chuckles.
“Zander, you may kiss your beautiful bride.”
“Again,” Aloha whispers, just before leaning down and pressing her perfect, pouty lips against mine.
Everyone claps and cheers. Someone pops a champagne bottle. Plastic cups come out. A heartfelt toast is given by Mr. Morgan—which is a surprise, since the man hardly ever talks—and then by Barry. Hugs and kisses abound. Mom sheds some tears and tells me to always treat Aloha right, to which I reply, “Mom, I took a bullet for the woman. Not sure how much more ‘right’ I can treat her.” And, finally, everyone clears out to let me rest and hang out with my wife.
Aloha takes her usual seat by my bedside and slides her hand in mine. “Get some sleep, Hubby Boo. The doctor said sleep is the most important thing for your healing.”
“You should go to a hotel and sleep for a bit, baby. I know you love me. Get some sleep in a comfortable bed.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Then at least sleep on that cot over there.”
“I want to hold your hand.”
I sigh. “Babe, when I sleep, I don’t even know you’re holding my hand. Sneak over to that cot and catch some Zs while I’m sleeping.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m catching all the Zs I want right here.”
“Aloha, I’m serious. I feel too guilty waking up and seeing you sleeping in that weird position all the time. You’re gonna permanently wrench your neck. And then how will you do music videos looking like this?” I wrench my neck and make a funny face.
“I’m right where I want to be, doing what I want to do. Isn’t that what you always tell me to do? ‘Be brave.’ Well, guess what? This is me, being brave. Doing what I want to do. Now get some rest. The wedding was exciting and the doctor said you have to take it easy and get plenty of rest, especially after something exciting.”
“Wow, look at you acting all wifey-like.”
“Sleep. Like this.”
She presses her forehead against the mattress, presumably showing me how it’s done. But I’m too amped to close my eyes. I stare at the top of Aloha’s head for a moment, my heart melting with love for her. My gaze drifts to our clasped hands. I take in her slender fingers. Her manicure. The simple band on her finger—the ring I bought for her in Vegas because I couldn’t afford anything more elaborate.
Aloha lifts her head and glares at me. “If you don’t close your eyes, I’m gonna get Zelda Shaw in here to give you a tongue lashing.”
“Oh, shit. You’re savage.”
“Damn straight.” With that, my bossy little wife gets up, kisses me on my lips, nose, and forehead... and then lays her palm over my eyes, forcing me to close them... and, soon, what do you know, with her hand over my eyes, I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.
Chapter 60
Zander
I stand on the tarmac with my arm in a sling, watching Aloha, flanked by Crystal and Brett, disappear into the private jet. Apparently, my wife needed to get onboard to talk to the pilot about some flight paperwork or customs shit. I don’t know. She was vague about it. All I know is Aloha asked me to stand out here so Peenie and Maddy’s driver can clearly see which plane is ours.