Worth the Wait

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Worth the Wait Page 25

by Jamie Beck


  “I have to wake you up every few hours.” He placed the glass of water on the bedside table. “Doctor’s orders.”

  “I know.”

  He stood to go, then stopped. “Vivi.” He fell silent while she simply blinked at him. All of his words caught in his throat. He shook his head, feeling foolish. “I wanted to see you on your birthday, but not like this. I’m sorry about everything that’s happened, tonight and before.” He inhaled deeply and sighed. “I’ll be right next door if you need anything.”

  He walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. In the guest room he stretched across the bed and stared at the ceiling. This was his last shot. Twenty-four hours to win her forgiveness. But forgiveness wasn’t all he wanted.

  He rolled onto his side and pictured her in his room. Despite the distance between them, she looked so right sitting in his bed. She belonged there—belonged here with him.

  His head and his heart had stood on opposites sides of the fence these past several weeks. Now he was at the precipice with respect to their relationship. All or nothing. Those were her terms when they’d last spoken. He loved her and hoped he was capable of giving her everything.

  When he offered, would she take it from him?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  City lights streamed through the sides of the bedroom window blinds, spilling onto a framed drawing on David’s nightstand. Vivi recognized it as the one she’d sent David after his mother died. She reached out and brought the small portrait close to her face for a closer inspection.

  Graciela’s smiling face stared back at Vivi. I know my son. Vivi’s hands trembled. She’d held on to the promise of those words for too long. Maybe David did love her, just never enough. She clutched the frame to her chest, seeking comfort.

  But the charcoal image couldn’t wrap Vivi in the warm embrace she remembered. It didn’t smell like the spicy perfume Graciela had worn, or whisper motherly endearments in her ear. It was only a drawing, and a poor one at that, Vivi thought with some regret. She’d never been very good with portraits.

  When she set the frame back on the bedside table, she glanced at the clock. Five in the morning. David must be sound asleep. She sunk her head back into his pillow and inhaled. She could smell him. Unable to stop herself, she rolled onto her side and inhaled again, indulging the sensation of lying in his bed.

  Without thinking, she ran her hands over the T-shirt she wore, as if she was somehow touching him, or he was touching her. Vivi stretched her hands across the mattress, wondering which side he usually slept on. Nearer to the bathroom, or the window? Then she shook away the thoughts before sorrow and regret could strike.

  The space behind her eyes ached. Her fingers touched the bandage covering the itchy stitches. An ugly reminder of Justin’s brutality.

  How long had she been unconscious? She recalled nothing between the time Justin had flung her off his back and when she’d woken up in the ambulance. Luckily, neither she nor Cat sustained permanent injuries. Then again, she didn’t feel very lucky right now.

  Although thinking about last evening’s events made her head pound, her growling stomach demanded attention. No surprise there. Her last meal had been yesterday’s lunch, which meant she was a meal and several snacks shy of her usual intake.

  Swinging her legs out of the bed and onto the floor, she stood slowly. Once she felt steady, she began searching for the kitchen to find something to eat.

  Along the way she noticed a large collage of photographs covering one entire section of the hallway wall. Even in the shadows, she recognized many of the pictures.

  Each photograph transported her back to a specific moment in time—some vague, others vivid. Cat and Vivi smiling in their high school graduation caps and gowns. Cat’s sweet-sixteen party. The Christmas cookie debacle, when Vivi and the St. Jameses had all ended up covered in colored icing. Her varied, and sometimes frightening, hairstyles captured and depicted here for all eternity.

  And Cat looked so young and unworldly. Her pre–modeling days. Cat lost that doe-eyed look years ago. The past twenty-four hours probably wiped out whatever innocence remained, Vivi thought glumly.

  She proceeded down the hall, then turned on a small lamp in the living room. Earlier she’d noticed the handsome details of David’s home, but had been too tired and uncomfortable to comment. Now she could take her time and inspect his things.

  The modern kitchen had concrete countertops and stainless steel appliances. The living room and dining room areas were separated by a see-through bookshelf. The entire condo smelled like him, just like his sheets.

  When he’d first returned from Hong Kong, she’d waited for an invitation to visit. Standing here now felt surreal, and sad, especially under the circumstances. Once more, her thoughts slid to Cat and Justin. Thank God things hadn’t turned out worse for everyone. She couldn’t afford to lose more family.

  She poured herself a glass of milk, grabbed a handful of grapes, and snagged her prescription bottle of painkillers from the counter. Please, God, let the food and pills dull this headache.

  She ate in the dark. Other than an occasional rumbling truck engine and screeching set of brakes, she heard very little external sound, which was unusual in the city.

  After finishing her snack, she meandered through the main living space, touching David’s collection of books and knickknacks. All the rooms were accented with interesting lamps and thick Tibetan carpets.

  She loved his home, and that made her sadder. She didn’t want to love it, or him, any longer. With her glass in her hand, she strolled into the study and sank listlessly into his leather desk chair. On one corner of his gorgeous, burled-wood desk sat a framed picture of her blowing a kiss to the camera.

  She studied the photograph, unable to recall the occasion. Her mop of hair was cropped at her jaw at that time, so it was probably six or seven years ago. Mindlessly, she tugged at a section of her long hair and wrapped it around her hand.

  “Vivi? Are you feeling all right?”

  She turned, feeling self-conscious sitting at his desk, looking frightful as ever. David stood in the archway wearing an old T-shirt and shorts. He still stole her breath away, especially when he looked deliciously sleepy, rumpled, and concerned.

  “I was hungry. I’m sorry for waking you.”

  “You didn’t wake me.” He rubbed his hand over his face and then stretched both arms over his head. “I set my alarm to check on you. You weren’t in bed.” He noticed the pill bottle. “Does your head hurt?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you feel sick to your stomach?” His reached toward her and then withdrew his hand when she flinched. “Is your vision okay?”

  “Just hungry.” She quirked a small smile before lightly touching her fingers to the bandages again.

  David’s eyes darkened, but he said nothing as he came to lean against the edge of the desk. Then he noticed the photograph she’d been studying.

  “Do you remember that day?” He smiled.

  “No.” She shook her head. “But obviously it was another of my many bad hair days.”

  He chuckled and leaned closer. “That’s the day you left for your freshman year of college. You were so excited.”

  “Was I?” She looked back at the picture. She’d never liked school. Perhaps she’d just been happy about gaining some freedom and distance from her father, his constant depression, and her regrets. “Did you take this before I left for the train station?”

  He nodded, then rested his hands on his thighs. For weeks she’d avoided him in order to give herself time to gain emotional distance. But the intimacy of the wee hours and memories made it impossible not to feel pulled toward him, as always.

  “Why do you keep this here?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t.

  He hesitated before answering. “Because seeing your face makes me happy.”

 
Vivi gulped and then held her breath. His calm reply contradicted the intensity of his gaze. “I don’t remember seeing all of these pictures displayed in your old apartment.”

  “They weren’t. Until recently, I’d kept them in a box.” He crossed his arms. “After Laney left, I put up my favorites. You’ve all shut me out now, so this is all I have left.”

  “Stop it, David,” she started. “Emotional blackmail’s not your style.”

  “It never was, but desperate times . . .” He let the old saying die without finishing.

  “Do you miss Laney?” Vivi asked, then cast her eyes downward.

  “No. I don’t miss her at all. I miss you.” Lifting himself off the desk, he kneeled down before her. “I miss you so much. More than I could’ve imagined.”

  Vivi’s mouth opened involuntarily. When she failed to respond, he continued.

  “Tonight, when I saw the bloodstains and Cat told me you’d been taken away unconscious, I panicked. I was terrified you might wake up a different person because of brain trauma, or maybe not wake up at all. I knew then I wouldn’t want to face a future without you in it.” His eyes suddenly darkened to coal black. “I could kill Justin for what he’s done, but I’ll settle for burying him in lawsuits.”

  “The criminal charges will be punishment enough,” Vivi said.

  “Hardly.” David scowled while gripping the arms of the desk chair until his knuckles turned white. “He’ll plead out and be slapped on the hand with community service and a small fine at best. We’ll hit him where it hurts . . . his wallet. Off the top of my head, I can think of several torts, like trespass, assault, battery, intentional infliction of emotional distress—”

  “I’m not interested in revenge or greed, I just want to heal and move on.” Vivi sensed David’s disbelief. “Legal battles will only prolong his contact with Cat. Don’t force her, or me, through that, David. Time to forgive and forget.”

  “Are you serious?” He rocked backward slightly. “You’re going to let him off the hook?”

  “He’s hardly off the hook. Fines, a criminal record, and most importantly, he’s lost Cat, and maybe some of his self-respect, too.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she actually empathized with Justin about those last two blows. She knew exactly how much pain he would feel because she’d been in his shoes twenty years ago . . . and every day since then. That special kind of hell was worse than anything David could throw at Justin. “Let it go. I won’t cooperate.”

  “I know I’m not as compassionate as you are, but in this case your big heart is steering you wrong. The way you forgive your dad year after year amazes me, but this is different. Justin’s got to face the consequences of what he’s done—”

  “Stop it! Please.” The stress of the night’s trauma converged with her memories, causing a sudden breakdown. Hot tears spilled onto Vivi’s cheeks. The truth about her relationship with her dad pressed up against her ribs, begging for release. Shame and fear and regret mingled together, tightening her throat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, especially when it comes to my dad. Sometimes people make mistakes they can’t take back. It doesn’t mean they aren’t sorry. It doesn’t mean they don’t think about it all the time. Trust me, people can punish themselves enough without needing anyone else to pile on.”

  David looked confused by her wellspring of emotion. “Vivi, I don’t want to upset you, but honestly, how would you know? You’ve never hurt a soul in your life.”

  Vivi started shaking her head with her eyes squeezed closed. “That’s not true.”

  “When? I can’t think of a single time when you’ve hurt another person.”

  “I have!” Vivi replied before looking in David’s disbelieving eyes. “I have and I’ve paid the price every day.”

  “Every day?” When he reached for her hand, she withdrew. She didn’t deserve his comfort. “Does this have something to do with your father?”

  “It’s about me.” Her voice caught in her throat. “You’ve blamed my dad all these years for the way he treated me. But the truth is . . . the truth is . . .” The words lodged in her throat so tight, she had to force them out. “I’m responsible for the accident that killed my mom and brother.”

  David’s eyes widened and his jaw came unhinged. The room felt close and hot as silence stretched between them. Her mind raced, unsure of whether the fuzzy feeling arising from her confession was a sense of relief or stupefaction.

  “How is that possible?” David asked, his voice distant. “You were only six, so you weren’t driving.”

  The unpleasant images came quickly. As always, it saddened her that her only sharp, clear recollection of her mother’s voice revisited her with this particular memory.

  “We were driving through a snowstorm, down a winding road. My mom was begging me to settle down so she could concentrate. But I kept teasing my brother in the backseat. He screamed when I pinched his leg.” Vivi felt her face crumpling as she recalled those final moments in the car as if she were watching a horror film. Her heartbeat sped up. Her head throbbed. “His screech made her take her eyes off the road for just an instant, and then we slammed into the tree. If I’d have listened”—her raw voice barely croaked out the words—“if I’d have behaved, they’d be alive. They’d be alive, and my dad wouldn’t be brokenhearted. He wouldn’t have turned into a drunk. So, you see, it’s not about me forgiving him. I deserve to suffer for what I did.”

  David wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back while she sobbed. “My God, Vivi, you were a kid. It was an accident that most likely had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the ice.” He kissed her head and tried to reassure her. “It’s not your fault. You have to know it isn’t your fault.”

  She couldn’t tell him his words fell on deaf ears. The truth couldn’t be wiped away by wishful thinking about ice and snowstorms. She eased away from his embrace. “The point is no one else can punish me more than I do myself. That’s what happens when you hurt someone you love.”

  Her comment appeared to shift something within David. His eyes softened with some weird mix of yearning and understanding. He squeezed her hands and, when he finally spoke, his voice cracked. “I do understand that much. Listen to me. I want to talk more about your guilty conscience when you’re ready, but right now I need you to forgive me for being an ass last month. I’ll keep asking until you do. I want you back in my life.”

  His hands brushed the tops of her thighs. When he looked up at her, his eyes darkened with desire. She heard his breathing fall shallow. Once again, extreme circumstances were affecting his judgment. She couldn’t go through another round of frustrated expectations with him, especially here and now, when she’d been completely depleted by her confession. “Don’t, David. Please stop.”

  He straightened up, looking strung out. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve made many mistakes with you, especially recently. But I have to ask, can you please give me some sign that you . . . won’t lock me out of your life forever?”

  She glanced at the photograph he kept on his desk. The room pulsed with crazy, confused emotions. “Even if I wanted to completely shut you out, I doubt I’d succeed. It won’t be forever, but some things take a long while to heal, as you know.”

  “You’re referring to my dad now.” His voice sounded hollow as he leaned against the desk.

  She nodded in response.

  “It kills me to think I’ve hurt you as much as he hurt me. I’ll never forgive myself for that.” His grim expression emphasized his words. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “I do.”

  His gaze grew fuzzy and distant, as if his mind were wandering someplace else. She watched, waiting for a clue about where he’d gone. When he looked at her, she held her breath.

  “I assume you’re going to his wedding,” he said, his voice tight.

  “Yes. It won’t be easy to sit there in
silence with Cat and Jackson, pretending to be happy, now that I know the truth. Of course, I won’t tell. I wouldn’t do that to you, or your mom.” Vivi realized she’d stumbled upon the perfect opportunity to keep her promise to Graciela. “Actually, I remembered something recently. Something your mom told me shortly before she died. A message for you. At the time, I had no idea what she was talking about. Now I realize it was about your dad.”

  David looked nearly panicked in his anticipation as he slid to his knees. “You have a message from my mom?”

  Vivi nodded. “She assumed one day you would confide something troubling and, when you did, I should remind you that family is more important than pride.”

  His eyes widened. “That sounds like her.”

  “Yes, it does.” Vivi watched David’s face reflect the love he felt for his mom. She barely stopped herself from reaching out to touch him. “And I think she’s right. Don’t let your pride, or your dad’s, destroy your relationship with your entire family. I know it’s hard to accept what’s happened, but you’re the only one suffering from holding on to hate. It’s ruining your life, David. You need to let go.”

  “I agree. But how? How can I face him? How can I stomach this marriage?”

  “Take one step at a time.” Just like she had done for so many years with her own dad. “Go to the wedding without thinking about what comes next.”

  David closed his eyes, his face pinched as if he were sucking on a lemon. A slight tremor quaked his shoulders, then he opened his eyes and searched hers. “Will you go with me? Please.”

  She hadn’t expected that plea.

  “I’ll get a car service to take us back and forth from Wilton, and you can talk me off the ledge on the drive up. Honestly, I don’t think I can do it alone, Vivi. Please say yes.”

  David remained kneeling before her, begging for help. How could she deny him when he’d been there time and again when she’d needed support? At some point she would need to take one step toward some kind of friendship with him, so it may as well be now. “Okay. I’ll help you through that day . . . for you and your family. And because I loved your mom.”

 

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