by Pamela Ann
No matter what I did now, it was going to haunt me day and night.
Now, I had to face another challenge, hoping Carter and I could come to a resolution; find a common ground to stand on. I knew my decisions as of late were not something I was proud of, but dwelling on that would only make me feel suicidal.
One problem at a time. I was going to try and make the best of it.
Hopefully, this talk with Carter would enlighten me as to where to go from here on out.
Chapter 25
Bass
Two weeks later…
It was our last night filming. Tomorrow, most of the people would be flying out and jetting somewhere to recuperate.
It had been fourteen days of hell, and still counting. I had at least stopped myself from drinking, too excessively, because I was aware that I could end up smashing the items close to me—like the entire house. I thrashed the whole damn place. One incident had been enough. I didn’t need another repeat. Though that one incident had happened in my house in LA, I knew my feelings were too raw—emotions running too high—that I could easily have another rage-fest with the things around me.
The house in LA was a mess when I’d left it. It was such a mess that Barbara came to my rescue and had cleaners take care of it. Her suggestion afterward to sell the house had helped quite a bit as well. I didn’t want to be in that house anymore. As much as I loved Emma, each time I entered that foyer now, I was reminded of where my heart had been left for broken. I didn’t want that. It had honestly come to the point where I couldn’t bring myself to go inside the house, so I slept in a hotel room.
Broken relationships were a hardship to get over. However broken engagements were another thing entirely. It felt like no hope was left for me. It was my fault for falling so much and investing all of my time and effort into shaping up our future together. Maybe I had become too complacent after we got back together.
The maybes were endless and the blame game was stuck in my head.
When Kosta called for me to go visit Paris with him for a little while, I didn’t even think twice to say yes.
Since my home was put on the market and Emma had broken off our engagement and immediately run off to the love of her life, I was left empty handed. Even Gus, who I hadn’t spotted in her house, left an empty hole in me. I was a man who had a lot of things, but truly had nothing—nothing that counted for anything.
Dimitris was only there for a weekend with Lindsey, but I had remained in the city of lights due to the fact that I had nowhere else to go… so I thought, why not enjoy what the Parisians can offer and try to forget the catastrophe that was my life at the moment? Why not indeed.
So I partied. Hard. On a daily basis. I would wake up and go to sleep partying. At one point, I thought that I might just be giving up on life, because hell, what’s the purpose of it anyway? I mean come on, I tried to play by its rules, but that didn’t do much for me. In fact, it did the opposite; it simply fucking broke me.
Now here I was, a broken man in Paris, fucked inside and out, hating all the blonde women on sight—blue-eyed ones most especially.
It just goes on repeat in my head…that scene I witnessed of Carter and Emma in bed…all day long. When will it stop? I wanted it to stop.
I was hurting too much…so much so that I would wake up screaming at times while sleeping—like a nightmare lived in me--consciously and subconsciously, it pulled me down, drowning me with it.
Blue-eyed. Blonde. Sweet honeyed kisses. Angelic voice. And lemons.
Home.
I wanted to go home…but the bare fact that I was now a homeless man killed me each second that ticked by.
My hope was diminished. The light was decimated. And darkness was inevitable. And if tomorrow was the end, I wanted to drown in lemons when I died.
If I was going to crumble, I was going to go down the way I wanted to…
Death. Was it looking for me?
Chapter 26
Emma
“Come on, Gus. We need to get in sweetie,” I urged on, hoping he’d listen immediately because I didn’t feel all too well all of a sudden after our long walk.
Gus whimpered as he trudged toward me, before stopping next to my leg and giving me a lick. I sighed, smiling down at him. “I love you too, babe.” My heart melted, knowing that this was the only thing I had left of Bass. It had been three weeks since I had last seen him, and for the last part of those three weeks, I had followed him partying like mad in Paris, one club after the other. It worried me, but who was I to stop him from his destructive ways?
Each picture I saw broke me all over again. It was absurd since it was me who really ended things, but most of all, it was me who made the move to start moving on…and yet, seeing Bass with women around him made me feel nauseous, so nauseous in fact that I had puked a few times. Questions like, had he fucked any of those women? kept haunting me. Of course, knowing how pissed off he’d been, he probably had gone bonkers with all of them.
It was my undoing…and yet I didn’t like the repercussions.
Carter had been around a lot, but I hadn’t made a decision yet when it came to him. As always, when it came to that, I didn’t have it in me to bite the bullet. I suppose, even after Bass left the way he did, he hadn’t left me at all. So I suffered, enduring the prolonged battle of letting go of someone I had hurt so greatly.
Reaching for the medicine cabinet, I pulled out two pain relievers to make my headache go away. But three hours later, I was suffering from chronic migraine and intense stomach pain. I was curled up in a ball when I heard Carter call out for me. “Emma?”
I closed my eyes, feeling like I the room was spinning. “I don’t feel too good,” I grumbled, whiny.
He sat on the bed, reaching out to touch my forehead. “Let’s get you to the doctor.”
My body temperature seemed fine, but I didn’t feel okay. Did I have food poisoning? Something? “No. It’ll go away.” I hoped it did…it came out of nowhere. I was fine earlier—well, the night before I truly wasn’t, but then again, I’d been crying a lot lately and didn’t take care much when it came to eating or hydrating my body. Maybe that’s what it was?
“Emma, you’re hurting… it could be something serious.” Carter caressed my arm, his voice sounded pained… as if he was feeling the pain with me.
It wasn’t the pain that was necessarily making me feel queasy. Something was just off. And the more time I pondered, paranoid of things, I knew it was best to get some professional opinion before I diagnosed myself from reading up on Google that I might have stomach cancer. “Okay.” I was starting to worry.
Once we got to the hospital, Carter took charge and had someone help me instantly. He was just as bad as Bass, but then again, both loved me like crazy.
When the nurse asked me questions, I was almost tempted to say that I needed Vicodin or something stronger to make the pain go away. Then again, I didn’t want to look like I was a screwed up pill-popping druggie.
So I had to wait…and wait—until they knew for sure what it was all about.
~Emma~
“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Carter asked, softly caressing my cheek.
Shaking my head, I declined his offer. I needed to be alone—to think, to analyze and to think of Bass… and what to do from that point forward. The doctor gave me pills to ease some of my pain away, but basically, I was told to learn how to unwind and relax, but how the hell did I accomplish that when I was breaking inside? Nothing was ebbing the pain away…not a fucking thing!
Giving Carter a chaste kiss on the cheek, I lamely left his car and went inside the house.
What greeted me was truly unexpected.
I came home and found myself in a puzzled state when everyone was crying in the house. “What’s going on?” I was even more baffled when both Lindsey and Amber were seated close to each other without Linds trying to lunge insults her way. “Tris?” Since no one was really paying attention to me, I had to ask the cl
osest person who was sitting on the counter stool.
She sniffed, wiping her mascara tear-stained face. “Bass…they’re saying that he might be one of the victims in that fire in a nightclub that killed a hundred people and counting.”
No, that can’t be! I screamed in my head, panicking, and yet I couldn’t seem to move as my purse languidly dropped to the floor, bursting my contents everywhere, but I didn’t seem to notice it fall.
Bass was dead? No, he couldn’t be… he was fine in the news the last time… NO.
Just NO.
NO! I didn’t want to hear any of it. “He’s not—there’s no way—” my voice shook as my eyes clouded with tears. A tsunami of guilt washed over me, knowing that it was my fault he was in Paris in the first place.
My Bass… “No…” I whimpered, hysterical. I refused to believe any of the lies the news was broadcasting. My head swung back and forth as I looked at the TV screen, seeing and not seeing what they were reporting. Pictures and CCTV clips of Bass entering the club with women were everywhere. So far, one of those women was identified dead. She was some Italian model that he’s been partying with for the last week. If she was dead…chances were, Bass was too, or so the news reporter was saying. “They’re lying!” I screeched. They had to be. Lies. Lies. All just a pack of lies!
Not my Bass, no, never him… “I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” I whispered to myself, dazed and beyond devastated. “I didn’t get to say sorry.”
Running upstairs toward my bedroom, Gus came trailing behind me before I launched myself on my bed, crying a river. “Please.” I cried into my pillow when I felt Gus curling up behind my back, comforting me somehow. Spinning around, I hugged him against my chest, crying some more against his furry neck, hoping to get some warmth into my body. “He can’t leave us, Gus. He just can’t.” Gus made a soft grumbling sound, comforting me, as if he knew what I was telling him…that his daddy was dead.
Bass.
Dead.
Bass was dead…because of me.
I drove him to destroy himself. The kind man, who was so determined to reach his goals, was ruined by me. What have I done?
I didn’t get to say sorry… but most of all, what was going to happen to our unborn child?
Chapter 27
Carter
“What are you going to do about the baby, Emma?” I worriedly looked over to her, worried. Her tears were never ending and I had no idea how to erase the pain in her eyes that was curling around my heart. I hated to see her cry.
“I…” she nibbled on her lip. “I don’t know anymore.” She held her stomach, fighting another big wave of tears that were threatening to fall from her face.
If Bass Cole was dead, then she needed someone to step up and be there for her. I didn’t like him that much, but I didn’t truly wish him dead. I thought about it a few times, thinking and hoping that he’d just drop off the face of the earth, but now that he had, I felt like such a bastard for thinking like such a dick. He was a good guy. It was just unfortunate that he went after my girl.
And now… Emma was pregnant with his baby. Without him, she was going to be a single mom and I would never have that—no, I was going to step into his shoes and provide for Emma and the baby. That baby might as well be mine. I didn’t care because it was a part of Emma, and whatever she was a part of, I loved. Wholeheartedly.
It had been a week and they were still identifying dead bodies from that nightclub fire—but now news broke that the fire could’ve been a bomb. The French authorities weren’t releasing anything specific yet, so everything at that point was just pure speculation.
But still, Emma was already two months pregnant. She would be showing soon, and there was so much going on that she could barely focus on herself. That’s why I was there with her, because I knew she wouldn’t remember to take her prenatal vitamins. She needed someone to take care of her, and I was going to, if she would let me.
“Em…” I started, cupping her cheek, so she could easily look into my eyes and see how much I loved her. I’d quit soccer and move somewhere South to raise the baby with her if she’d ask it of me. “I know this might not be the right time to bring this up, but you have to understand that I’m thinking of what’s best for you.”
She nodded, eyes flicking back and forth at me, nervous.
Her frantic face made me even more nervous. Last night, after she fell asleep, I hunted around her room for something in particular. I hoped that she won’t hate me for this bold move. Licking my lips, I forced myself to talk before I could talk myself out of it. “For a week, I’ve been thinking that the best way to solve this and save yourself a lot of headache—more importantly—so you could have someone there for you at all times—” I swallowed, breathless. Breathing deeply, I let her deep blue pools pull me in, swimming in her depths, falling deep within, for her, forever. “Marry me,” I whispered, teary. “I will love your baby like it’s my own—let me give you a family. I want to be a father to this baby and be a husband to you.” I trembled before I pulled out my grandmother’s ring, holding out her hand, kissing the finger where I wanted to place my ring. “For the past week, I have come to realized that life’s too short—that we have to enjoy what life has to offer. I don’t want to be with anyone else—you’re the woman for me. You’re the woman I love—I’m desperate for you. Always.” Her tears dropped on my hand that held hers, before I bent over and kissed her tear. “Let me be the one to kiss your tears away. I love you—and I hope you’d think this through before you start showing. I only want what’s best for you.”
“Carter…” she bawled. “Yes…”
Wait, what? Did I hear her right? Was that a yes? “Did you just say yes?” I nervously asked, holding my breath as I waited for her to repeat it.
“I’ll marry you—but let me say goodbye to him first…my own way. I need to find a way to say goodbye to him. If he’s watching me from Heaven…he needs to know that I will never forget him…then I could marry you after.”
It was wrong, I know, but fuck, it was the happiest night of my life. Thinking of marrying her and raising our first child—and yes, I wanted as many kids as she wanted—and being a family, filled me with so much happiness. I was going to work hard to make her happy. Earn so much money that she wouldn’t think of anything else. I was going to be her husband, her provider, her man.
It was what I wanted all along… now it was just a kiss and a vow away to make it mine forever.
Chapter 28
Emma
“Taylor, please, if you know something, you have to tell me,” I begged him over the phone while I was en route to the private airport strip in the valley. Dimitris and Lindsey sent me their plane since I was going crazy. I wanted to be there if there was any new news.
Apart from Carter, no one really knew about the baby. I was scared. A part of me was still in denial about Bass’s death, but it looks like everyone thought that he was dead because all evidence was pointing that he was in the club, along with all the women he was with that were now declared dead as well.
“Emma…” He paused as if thinking of something—but as it turned out, he just groaned, sighing sadly. “I don’t know anything. I can’t help you with that.”
Taylor was Bass’s best friend. I knew he was Bass Cole’s emergency person, so was Martin Lombardo. One of them knew something—with Martin, he genuinely sounded like he didn’t…but as for Taylor, since knowing him, he never was one to hesitate. Something wasn’t quite right. And I wanted to know what the fuck that was. If he knew that Bass was dead, couldn’t he just tell me so?
“Taylor. Please, I’m begging here.” I pleaded, but he was so stubborn.
“I have nothing new to tell you that you don’t already know. Please, be safe in Paris. I’d go with you if I could—but I have bar exams.”
After a choky goodbye, I relented. I might sound crazy to some, but Hell, my life was going one hundred twenty miles per minute and there were no signs of slowing down. Be
fore I married Carter, I owed it to Bass to say goodbye.
It was sick how it was him that I had pictured myself to be married and have babies with…but life and its tricks messed up those plans for us. And now, I was marrying the first man I crucially fell in love with.
It felt like it was my mission to make sure that Bass knew—and somehow, I wanted to feel him around me. For once—I just wanted to feel his presence in the air…something.
After Paris, I planned to visit Lemon Grove and say my goodbyes there. It was our place. It was our heaven…a place where I could be with him and share the love we once had that seized us both.
Holding my tummy, I wiped the tears away. “If you’re going to be a boy, I’m going to name you after your daddy.” And if he looked just liked Bass… I deserved to be reminded, forever, of the pain I had caused him.
It wasn’t the fire that killed him.
No, it was me that killed him. It was I who pulled the trigger to his demise.
~Emma~
Paris…
Lindsey was practically holding me as Jacques and Dimitris eyed me with worry. I landed six hours before, and I hated the fact that everyone was treating me like I was a piece of fragile china.
I fucking wasn’t. Didn’t they know that it was me who killed him? I deserved pain.
“Any updates?” my eyes searched all of them, before they all shook their heads in unison.
How slow was the progress here? I knew they still had more bodies to go through, but I was dying here too. The only thing that was giving me purpose was the baby growing inside me. It was the only thing of Bass I had left…
“They’re still checking on dental records—this is France, this could take a while. Their procedures and protocols are different compared to America.” Dimitris tried to soothe my worry. Apart from the dead models, he was in the country to meet Bass for dinner for a few hours before he left to go back to Greece to be with Lindsey.