Unspoken (The Prose Series Book 1)

by Sofia Tate

  I smile as warmly as I can at him. “You have no idea.”

  He rises to his feet. “Very well, then. Let me walk you out.”

  I follow him once more as he leads me to the door. Right before I step through the doorway, he calls my name. When I turn back around, Porter leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “It was good to see you.”

  “Thank you. You too.”

  Walking past the guard, I step outside and grab my phone to call for an Uber, which arrives in five minutes.

  “South Station. Acela,” I tell the driver.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He glances at me in the mirror. “Are you all right?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  He gestures to his face and runs his index finger down his cheek.

  I pull out my compact. Dried streams of tears trail down my face, tears I hadn’t realized I’d cried after I left Porter’s office.

  I reach for a tissue, wiping away the remnants. “I’m fine. Never better.”

  19

  Aiden

  “You look like total shit, man.”

  I look like shit because I am a shit. The biggest shit on the motherfucking planet.

  “Thanks for the news flash, Joe,” I mumble at my foreman while reading over inspection reports.

  “You’re welcome,” he replies gruffly, pouring himself a coffee from the warm pot in the office trailer. “What happened, son?”

  He wants to know what happened. A few days ago, I lost the only woman I ever loved. The morning after Bea told me to stay away from her, I woke up with vague memories of the night before at the bar. All I remember is a woman in a black tank top and ripped jeans asking me where I lived and bundling me into a cab, my father’s arm around my shoulders, and my wasted body collapsing on my bed.

  That’s what fucking happened.

  “Nothing.”

  Suddenly, a gust of wind shakes the trailer, enough to make the coffee in the carafe swish around.

  “That’s not good,” Joe observes.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” I chime in.

  Another gust hits us, the trailer creaking in places from the shock.

  Shit. “Yup, that’s it. Call it, Joe.”

  He reaches around to his back jeans pocket, pulling out his walkie. “That’s it for today, guys. Stop work now. We’re calling it a day.”

  I get up from my chair, grab my hardhat, and pat Joe on the shoulder as I head for the door. “Come on.”

  When we step outside, both of us look up simultaneously to see black clouds hovering in the distance.

  “Go check the perimeter, Joe,” I order him as I put on my hat. “Everything needs to be locked down. I’m gonna check the elevator and make sure everyone comes out.”

  He nods. “Got it.”

  He rushes to the dozers and cranes. I’m about to follow him when I hear Seb’s voice call my name behind me.

  Before I can even greet him, the sound of bone crushing bone fills the air. Excruciating pain shoots from my nose to all the nerve endings in my skull, my eyes bursting from the shock.

  I stagger to the right, cradling my nose with my hands where Seb just punched me. “Look, let me explain—”

  “You fucking bastard!” he screams at me. “How could you do this to Bea? You destroyed her!”

  I can taste the blood from my nose trickling down into my mouth, keeping my face low to let it run to the ground. “I did it for the right reasons.”

  “Fuck that shit! I just got off the phone with Marisol. She told me everything about you tricking Beatrice on that dating website, pretending to be someone else. How could you do that to her?”

  “Don’t you get it, Seb? I’m in love with her! This was the only way I thought I could get through to her.”

  “Well, you didn’t think it through, did you?” he rages. “Because now she’s going to marry that dickless wimp Porter Thorne, in spite of all of my and Marisol’s protests. She’s determined to be a martyr.”

  My head tilts up at Seb’s revelation, with my eyes bulging in shock.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I wish like hell I were.”

  No, don’t do it, Buzzy. Please.

  “She can’t do that.”

  “Too fucking late. It’s all arranged. My parents are planning the engagement party at my house as we speak.” He shakes his head at me. “You were my brother, man. I trusted you. Stay away from me and never contact Beatrice again or I’ll fucking kill you.”

  He stares me down one last time before walking away.

  Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.

  I watch him stop at the gate and pull out his phone.

  “Hey, Aiden,” Joe calls.

  When I turn, his face drops in shock. “Oh shit! What the fuck happened?”

  “It’s nothing. Let me go clean myself up.”

  Joe shakes his head, walkie in hand. Something’s wrong. I stop walking. “Wait, what’s going on?”

  “Your fucking cousin. He won’t come down. Says he’s almost done.”

  I run my left hand through my hair, pulling on the roots. “For fuck’s sake! Fine, I’ll go get him. Go home, man.”

  “You need to take care of that first, kid,” he counters, pointing at my bloody face.

  “Yeah, well, safety comes first.”

  He pulls a bunch of tissues from his pocket. “Fine. Take these then, you stubborn Irishman.”

  I press it to my nose. “Thanks. Go home.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

  I run to the elevator for a head count. Workers head toward me in groups. I shout out “Great job!” and “Thanks, guys!” as I pass them.

  I push the buzzer for the fifth floor, cursing my cousin under my breath.

  When I finally reach him, the moron is still drilling away, getting the prefab steel columns in place.

  “Tommy! Tommy!”

  He can’t even hear me over the buzz of the drill. I stand in front of him and wave my arm, the one that’s not holding the tissues to my bloody nose.

  He slides his protective goggles off his face. “I’m almost done, Aiden. Shit, what happened to you?”

  His eyes plead with me like a little puppy begging to please its owner.

  Damn it to hell.

  I sigh in exasperation. “Nothing. Look, I get it, Tommy. I really do. But when your supervisor tells you to stop, you fucking stop. The weather’s turning and we can’t risk you getting hurt. Do you get that?”

  He pouts and drops his head. “Sorry.”

  I tap the top of his hardhat. “No problem, kid. Come on. Let’s go home.”

  “Okay. Just let me grab my coffee.”

  I turn around as he puts the drill down on the wooden makeshift table across from us in the center of the open space.

  Just as he reaches for a tall green thermos standing near the edge of the table, a huge gust of wind hits us head-on. Before I can stop its path, the thermos comes flying toward me like a bullet from a gun, hitting me smack in the chest, causing me to fall back.

  Thank God the net is there… Only I realize it’s not holding me like it’s supposed to, and I keep falling.

  I hear Tommy calling my name, everything rushing past me as I reach out to grab something, anything…

  I close my eyes.

  All I see is her face.

  Buzzy…I’m so sorry.

  20

  Bea

  “I’m so happy for you, Beatrice! You and Porter make a lovely couple.”

  “You’re going to have such gorgeous children.”

  Yeah, we’ll all be one fucking happy family.

  I nod graciously at the various wishes and compliments I’ve received, and it’s only been an hour since the apartment filled up with an onslaught of people, ranging from Porter’s parents to various party professionals, all here to plan the farce, a.k.a. my engagement party. My parents make their way through the apartment engaging with everyone over pointless details, from the catere
r in the kitchen to the florist in the living room, while I stand in the hallway, observing it all.

  My mother steps out from the kitchen, giving me a chilly stare, no doubt upset that I’m not speaking to anyone or even smiling. I only smile when someone approaches to congratulate me. I can’t even muster enough fake enthusiasm to please my parents. Truthfully, the party will be a celebration for my parents, especially my mother. A celebration of her social success, matchmaking Porter and me.

  I take a long sip of my vodka and orange juice. My father gave me a look when I asked for it because it’s a departure from my usual gin and tonic. I simply told him that I felt like something different. And I needed that warmth, that burn of the vodka as it ran down my throat, if only to forget the presubscribed destiny of my life. I can’t wait a year until Marisol comes into her inheritance. It’s not right. I’m solving the problem on my own. This is my family and I will do this for them.

  The vodka also serves as an anesthetic to numb the pain when my mind wanders to Aiden and to everything that happened between us. I need to forget him, and when I think of his lies, it’s easier for me to accept that we’re over, but then Marisol’s words come to mind, defending him and how he only lied to get to know me, and I just take another sip.

  Make it go away. Wipe the slate clean. Tabula Rasa.

  The sound of my cell ringing jolts me. I reach for my phone in my bag. The screen tells me it’s Sebastian. When I answer, I hear a siren in the background. “Seb? Where are you? Why the hell aren’t you here? I need you.”

  “Bea, there’s been an accident,” he shouts.

  My heart drops like a boulder. “What happened?”

  “It’s Aiden. He fell from the building.”

  My left hand clamps over my mouth.

  No. No. No. Please God, no.

  “When? Where is he? Are you with him?”

  “Yeah, I’m in the ambulance. We’re going to New York-Presbyterian in Flushing.”

  My hands start to shake. “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Just keep me posted.”

  I end the call, rushing to my room to grab my purse. I head for the front door when a hand reaches out and grabs my arm.

  “Sweetheart, what is it?” my father asks.

  “It’s Aiden. He fell at the site in Long Island City.”

  Mom comes toward me, her eyes narrowed on us, a plastic smile across her lips. “What’s going on? Everyone is looking.”

  That’s right, Mom. Worry more about appearances than your own daughter.

  “Aiden has been in an accident, Margot,” my father informs her.

  “Oh dear,” she whispers. “Is he all right?”

  I shake my head furiously. “I don’t know. Seb is with him in the ambulance. I have to go.”

  I rush for the doorway, my parents on my heels.

  “Dear, you can’t go,” Mom insists. “You have an entire house full of professionals planning your engagement party.”

  “I’m going, Mom. Deal with it.”

  “Your mother’s right, Beatrice. You have to stay. He’s just Sebastian’s friend. Why do you have to be there?”

  I spin around to face them. “Because I love him!”

  When I turn back around, two pairs of eyes belonging to Porter’s parents stare back at me, widened from shock.

  “I’m sorry” is all I manage to say to them, as sincerely as I can.

  Sinclair waits for me by the door, coat, scarf, and gloves in hand. I’m out the door in less than a minute. I don’t have time to get an Uber. I hail a taxi and give a hundred-dollar bill to the cabbie to make him run red lights if necessary.

  The intern recites Aiden’s injuries to the resident on call.

  “Aiden Dwyer, thirty years of age. Fall from a construction site. Seven broken ribs, broken collarbone, broken right leg, broken left arm, severe internal bleeding, required five units of blood during surgery, punctured lung, chest tube inserted…”

  It’s a scene straight out of Grey’s fucking Anatomy.

  I take in the sight of Aiden with needles stuck in him, tubes running everywhere, an oxygen mask over his nose, machines beeping, and a monitor with his heart rate on constant display. I want to jump up from my chair in the corner and shout at them, “He’s not a goddamn science project! He’s not here for you to dissect and talk about as if he weren’t here! Just make him open his goddamn eyes!”

  But he won’t because he’s in a medically induced coma due to his injuries. Thank God he’s at a regional Level 1 trauma center, because otherwise, I would’ve spared no expense to transfer him to the best doctor in Manhattan, which probably wouldn’t have been possible due to the extent of his injuries.

  Instead, I’m here in Queens, Flushing to be exact. I watch as Aiden’s father listens to the doctor and the interns with Seb at his side.

  I’ve barely spoken a word since I got here. I can’t say anything. I can’t because I’m the reason he’s lying in that bed.

  When I arrived at the hospital, Seb told me that he was at the site to have it out with Aiden over me, but I’m almost glad, because he was there when Aiden fell. He called both Mr. Dwyer and me from the ambulance. Apparently, the wind knocked him over and he fell to the ground because of a faulty safety net.

  But that’s bullshit.

  He’s here because of me. Because I refused to listen to what he had to say like the stubborn bitch I am. Because I told him I never wanted to see him again. Because I broke him.

  He’s broken because of me.

  With my brother at his side, Mr. Dwyer stands near the doctors, absorbing every word. The doctor in charge turns to Aiden’s father, explaining the necessity of the coma, how Aiden’s body has experienced such extensive trauma that he needs the time to heal.

  The saving grace is that he was wearing his hardhat, so his brain is completely safe. The doctor checks Aiden’s reflexes every time to make sure he can move his toes and fingers, another blessing because it means his spine wasn’t injured either, and he’s not at risk for paralysis.

  The doctors and residents shuffle out of the room. Aiden’s father sinks into a chair, dropping his head in his hands. Seb grabs his shoulder and holds on.

  “He’s going to be okay, Sean. You heard what the doctor said. He just needs time.”

  Mr. Dwyer nods his head, but Seb seems unconvinced. My brother looks over at me, and I manage to give him a reassuring look, a slight smile with a small nod.

  “I think you need a coffee. Why don’t you come with me to the cafeteria? Beatrice can stay with Aiden.”

  My ears perk up at this suggestion because I haven’t had a moment alone with Aiden since he was brought in. And I need time with him because I have so much to say.

  I nod my head at my brother, rising to my feet. “That’s a good idea, Mr. Dwyer. I promise I’ll let you know if anything happens, which it won’t,” I encourage him, speaking the first words I’ve uttered in hours.

  Aiden’s father finally looks up at me, his face pale, his eyes red and sunken. “Thank you, my dear. I think that might be a good idea. Can I bring you back anything?”

  My heart softens at his kind offer. “Tea would be lovely. Thank you.”

  He nods and leans in to give me a long hug, then walks out of the room with Seb.

  Once the door is shut, I pull up a chair as close as I can to Aiden’s side, the metal making a harsh scraping sound against the cold tile. I sit down and take Aiden’s large, strong right hand between both of mine. I run the pads of my fingers along his palm, feeling the rough calluses under my touch, so raw, so virile.

  I clear my throat clogged with tears so he can hear me better. “It’s me, Aiden. It’s Buzzy. I’m here.”

  I trace circles on the top of his hand, the soft down of his hair tickling my fingertips. “I’m so sorry, Aiden. This is all my fault. If I weren’t so stupid, so stubborn, you wouldn’t be here. I should’ve listened to you and given you a chance to explain. I should’ve given us a chance.”


  I brush the tears now freely falling down my face with my other hand, taking a deep breath to clear my sniffles. I take the palm of his hand and place it against my cheek so he can feel me talking to him. “You have to be okay, Aiden. You have to because we have so much to look forward to. I know now that I was just deluding myself. I know what I want. It’s you, Aiden. I want you. I want to be with you because I love you. If my family disowns me, I don’t give a shit. I just want to be happy. And I know we can be happy. We’ll drive each other crazy, but it’s what I want more than anything. A lifetime of arguing with you so we can have make-up sex after.”

  I smile and laugh to myself through the tears when a thought suddenly crosses my mind. Still holding his hand, I reach into my coat pocket and pull out my phone. I open the Prose app and search for my posts.

  “You do know that all of my posts on Prose were about you, right? I just wanted to be sure you knew that. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, and I never even realized that. I can be so clueless sometimes, can’t I?”

  I laugh. “I know. You’re probably thinking, ‘Fuck yes you can.’ I love your dirty mouth, Aiden. I hope you know that too.”

  I stop talking and just watch him silently, holding his hand tighter.

  I shake my head and take a deep breath. “So, maybe that dirty mind of yours will enjoy hearing this.”

  I unlock my phone and begin to read aloud to him.

  “Ecstasy by 10280girl…”

  21

  Aiden

  Water.

  I need water.

  I open my eyes to discomfort, the sounds of machines emitting loud beeps, and the sight of white walls everywhere.

  My father sits at my left side. “Pop,” I whisper in a raw, strangled voice.

  He looks up at me, tears forming in his eyes. “Jesus, Mary…”

  Slowly, he rises from his chair, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “Thank God,” he repeats.

  “Water,” I rasp.

  He softly brushes my hair back. “Let me go tell the doctor you’re awake first. I don’t know if you can have any liquids yet.”