by Lena Black
“Damian?” she asks as if she isn’t sure I’m truly standing in front of her. To be honest, I’m not sure if I am either. I’m afraid to move toward her, even though I desperately want to. In my rush to get to her, I hadn’t considered whether or not she wanted me here. We stare at one another for an eternity, waiting, studying, yearning.
“Where is she?” Elizabeth abruptly enters the room, her designer heels clacking violently across the sterile linoleum floor. She cups Elle’s face in her hands, checking her for cuts and bruises. “My sweet girl. Are you alright? How did this happen? Have you seen a doctor yet?”
“Mom, I’m fine.” Elle attempts to appease her mother’s worries, gently pulling her face from her lovingly claustrophobic grasp. “It was a car accident. And I have seen the doctor. He wants to run some tests to be sure there isn’t anything internally, but he says it’s a precaution.”
“When your sister called me, I thought the worst. I couldn’t get to you fast enough.” She wraps her arms around her daughter, hugging her the way only a mother can. Her hand runs over Elle’s hair as she rocks them back and forth.
I don’t deserve to experience this moment with them.
My wife’s eyes catch mine when I make for the hospital room door, but she doesn’t stop me.
I sit in one of the waiting rooms with Maya and Chase, pretending to browse through the People provided to avoid talking. Instead, I keep slipping into my mind, thinking about the final time I ever saw Marshall Hyde.
…
I was in my office after a lunch meeting, preparing for another in fifteen minutes, when my assistant’s sunny voice came over the intercom.
“Mr. Hunt.”
“Yes,” I answered, my voice lacking any emotion.
“Mr. Hyde is here to speak with you.”
I hadn’t heard that name over the speaker since before I pursued Elle.
“Yes, send him in.”
I rose and walked out from behind my desk, buttoning my jacket. He stepped inside, and I met him at the door with my hand extended for a handshake. He gripped it tight and gave it a firm shake.
“To what do I owe this visit?”
“I came from lunch with Ellie, and I thought I could speak with you. It won’t take long.”
The fact he wanted anything to do with me after everything we’d been through surprised me greatly. But, I chalked it up to one simple reason. I was no longer with his daughter, therefore, no longer a threat.
“Of course.”
I gestured toward my desk.
“I’d prefer we didn’t play the power game, Damian,” he said, a vulnerable sincerity in his eyes.
“Let’s sit by the bar,” I suggested.
We strode over to the sitting area. Marshall took a seat in his usual chair, and I headed for the bar. I didn’t normally drink at work. But the last time we spoke hadn’t ended on the best terms. I needed a small nip.
“Drink?” I asked him.
“I’ll take a—”
“Single malt Scotch.”
“You know me well, my boy.”
The term of endearment caused me to falter briefly, but I regained control and poured us both a glass. Bringing one over to him, I took a seat on the chair beside him.
“You’re a busy man. And I respect the time you’ve given me. You don’t owe me the courtesy after the last time we spoke.”
He sipped on his drink, taking a moment to let it sit on his tongue. He closed his eyes as he savored it.
“You were protecting your daughter. Besides, you were right.” My face dipped, and my jaw tightened as I fought the overwhelming misery I felt. “I’m not a good enough man for her.”
“I was wrong.”
This caught me off guard.
“You weren’t,” I admitted. “When you told me she was off limits, you were right to do it. My intentions weren’t honorable when we met. I fought it. But ultimately, I pursued her…and then I got to know her. And it became more than I’d planned. If I’d listened to you, I wouldn’t be here now, empty and lost. She’s better off without me.”
He set his drink down on the table, and the clank of glass against glass rang out across the cold, hard boundaries of my office. “No,” he sat on the edge of his seat, “she’s not.”
My back straightened. “Did something happen to her?”
“You happened to her, Damian. And she hasn’t been the same for it. It didn’t take me long to realize she isn’t happy. She’s barely existing.” He deflated on a sigh. “She hasn’t told us what went on between the two of you or why she ended it. But, I wouldn’t be here if I felt it wasn’t the right decision.”
“What do you want from me?” I lifted the glass of Scotch to my mouth and stated with utter certainty, “She doesn’t want me in her life.”
He sat forward and scooted to the edge of his chair. “Do you truly believe that?”
“Why do you care?” I asked, agitated with him for reminding me of what I lost and rubbing salt into the unhealed wounds.
“Because her happiness means more to me than anything in this world. And you’re the only one who ever truly has made her happy.” He stared out the window at the graying sky, a forlorn, far-off cloudiness in his eyes. “I won’t always be around to watch after her, and I need to know she’ll be taken care of.”
“She’s perfectly capable of providing for herself,” I commented, rising from my seat. I needed space, and a refill.
I poured myself another glass, trying to figure out why he came to me then. It had been months since Elle left. And if he was telling the truth, if she really needed me as I needed her, it wouldn’t have taken him months to notice the pain in his daughter. Three things could be said about Marshall, he was honest, observant, and a loving father. So, why was it suddenly an urgent matter?
“I wasn’t referring to money,” he clarified. “You could give her everything she can’t give herself. She’ll need someone to watch out for her safety and well-being, to love her without pause, to sacrifice himself for her best interest. You’ll do those things and more. You’ll give her the life I want for her, the life she deserves.”
The irony of the situation didn’t evade me. There he was, pleading with me to be with his daughter, to love her. And I wanted it so bad I tasted it, smelled it, felt it. But, there was one problem.
“It only works if she wants me around.”
“She does, Damian. You haven’t seen her.”
“Yes,” I corrected him, “I have.”
I wasn’t proud, but I couldn’t control myself from checking in on her. And I was punished accordingly.
“Then you saw she isn’t the same.”
I slammed my glass on the bar, the sting of defeat stabbing me in the chest.
“I saw her moving on.” I rested my hands on the cold, glass surface, my head hung low. “I went to her apartment. I had one foot in the street when McQueen’s car drove up…with Elle inside. She didn’t get out right away, so I watched, and waited. She attempted to leave, but he stopped her and kissed her. When she didn’t pull away, I left.”
Before I knew the truth, I came to the conclusion she’d left me for the sonofabitch after he reentered her life, wooing her with that bullshit art show. It wasn’t until after the incident at the wedding that she confessed she had led him on, using him in case Dante was spying on her to ensure she kept her word.
“So you see, you’ve got the wrong man. I’m not the one she wants.”
Realizing he wasn’t going to convince me otherwise, he nodded his head, his mouth thinning into a sharp line.
“I’ve taken enough of your time,” he announced, setting his glass on the table and rising from his chair. He buttoned his suit jacket and walked toward the exit. With his hand on the handle and his back toward me, he said, “You’re a better man than I gave you credit for, Damian. I’m sorry I doubted it.”
He opened the door, making to leave, when I blurted, “I’ll do it.”
He turned back to
me, the door to the reception area open, and my assistant hovering close by, pretending to be busy. I would give her a serious talking to for eavesdropping.
“I’m not making any promises, though. I wouldn’t want to break another.”
A slow smile lifts the corners of his mouth, and his shoulders bobbed in a silent laugh.
“Fair enough.”
Before exiting my office, he thanked me. It was the last time I saw him.
He passed three days later.
…
Elle
After they probe and prod, the doctors give me the go-ahead to leave. Other than some bumps and bruises, I’m perfectly healthy. Since I’m in no condition to ride Hunt’s motorcycle home, Liam meets us at the hospital and drives us in the Rover. It’s a tense ride. Damian and I haven’t had a moment alone together to talk about our argument, about his lies, about his brother. If I wasn’t surrounded by doctors and machines, my family was hovering around me.
When we arrive back at Artemis, we enter through the lobby, rather than the garage. After the incident, I don’t want to be down there right now. He guides me to the elevator with a forceful hand on my lower back. He must be desperate to get me alone.
The elevator seems to take forever getting to the lobby, but when it does, Damian carefully leads me inside. He swipes his cardkey across the plate and hits the button with the large P. I settle back against the back wall, my hands gripping the railing for support. Even though I checked out fine, I’m still a little weak and sore. Damian stands in front of me, his wide back facing me. He’s rigid and unmoving, like a giant redwood rooted to the ground.
Then, halfway to the top floor, he reaches for the long panel of buttons and jams his thumb into the large red knob. With a stomach-dropping screech and shudder, the cab comes to an abrupt halt.
“What the hell are you doing?” I snap, my heart racing so fast it could contend in the Indy 500.
He faces me, his eyes both resolute and regretful.
“We need to talk about what happened. Once we get up there, we’ll be bombarded by concerned love ones and numerous questions. Plus, I don’t trust you not to run from me the second you get the chance.”
“I’m not exactly fond of being trapped in an elevator suspended over several floors of empty space beneath us. Especially this one.”
Ever since that fateful night, this six by six room has become my least favorite place in the entire universe.
“No better place to do this then.” He steps toward me, spanning the small space with one stride. “I’m so sorry, angel,” he apologizes, his hands finding the sides of my face. “I’m so so sorry.”
Grasping his hands, I shake my head, overcome by our closeness, my emotions, and the past twelve hours.
“Don’t,” I insist, “not now.”
“Please, Elle, I need this. The idea of having almost lost you makes me want to confess every secret I’ve ever kept. No more secrets and lies between us.”
I’ve wanted this since the first day, for him to let me in fully. After my pleading, it would be moronic to deny him now.
“Alright, slick.”
He releases an exhale, removing his palms from my face, and steps back to give us both some space.
“When I first saw you,” his face tips floorward and his eyes shut, as if he’s replaying it in his head, “you couldn’t have been older than seventeen. You came out of your father’s office, smiling and laughing and full of light, absorbed in a conversation with him.” His gaze lifts to mine. “I was attracted to you instantly. Not in a sexual way. I was drawn to the warmth of your fire. I spotted it in your eyes, in your poise, in the way you lit the room the moment you walked into it, like the sun emerging from behind the clouds. It was clear the woman you’d become was going to be something incredible. You were the first thing I truly wanted for myself, and the one thing I could never have.”
Why does that sound familiar?
White lilies and a note flashes behind my eyes, and it clicks.
“The one thing I desire most, is the one thing I must never possess, though it obsess me completely,” I recite from memory. “That’s what you meant. You were fighting yourself.”
I move closer to him, hesitant yet desperate to be close to him, and set my hand on his chest.
“It was more than simply myself. Over the next few years, I watched you grow into a stunning woman through photos and stories from your mother and the media. Needless to say, my interests grew into more than admiration. Eventually, Marshall took notice of my interest in you and made me swear to stay away.”
“That’s why he was standoffish towards you, because you broke your promise.”
“And it was worth it. I’d kept my promise to him for years…until I found out you worked at the magazine. When I purchased it, my intent was to create an opening to you. And then I saw you at the nightclub, and I couldn’t resist the temptation. I knew it was wrong, but I wanted you.” He sweeps the pad of his thumb over the rosy apple of my cheek. “I never could deny myself of you, Elle.”
“I never want you to,” I state with a soft tremble in my voice and walk into his arms, pressing my lips to his.
“Gabrielle,” he whispers against my mouth before furiously kissing me, my lips, my cheeks, my forehead, my chin as I weep and giggle, a patchwork quilt of emotions enveloping me.
He hugs me closer, and I sob softly at his embrace. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Other than a few bruised ribs, some scratches, and a little soreness, I’m perfectly fine. But…”
My eyes cut and run from his, the floor suddenly very appealing.
“What, Elle?” He slips some hair behind my ear, brushing my cheek with his knuckles.
“Dante, he...”
“I already know.” He takes a step back and runs his hands through his hair, a beautiful mess of chocolate strands. “I need to know what happened.” He leans against the railing, giving himself space
“He was waiting for me outside the building and jumped into my car when I was stopped at the red light. I was careless. I was on the phone, waiting for Maya to pick up. When he entered the car, he stuck a gun to my head and ordered me to drive out of the city. I dropped the phone on the floor in hopes she would hear what was going on. I tried to calm him, but it wasn’t working. I screamed. He screamed. Then he threatened you and the kids, and I lost it. We were speeding through traffic, and it was wet and rainy out and I didn’t see the truck merging into traffic until the last second. The last thing I remembered after balling up were his screams as we collided.” When he doesn’t speak, I ask, “Are you alright?”
“I thought I’d lost you. All that matters is you’re alive and safe. I’m better than alright. I’ve never felt such joy, so filled with love and gratitude. I’m thrilled he’s dead. Elle, we’re finally free.”
He pulls me in, cradling my head to his chest. I release a whimpered sigh, sinking my weight into him. For the first time in a long time, the immense burden of everything lifts off my shoulders.
I feel peace.
I feel joy.
I feel complete.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aftermath
After thirty-six hours of intense labor, Skylar Grace Hunt was born at 11:58pm on a stormy evening in late February. Her brother, Greyson James Hunt followed two minutes later, screaming his little lungs out. Forty fingers and toes between them. I’ve never cried as much as I did when I held them for the first time. Grey was slightly underweight, so he remained at the hospital until he gained the half pound needed.
The past six months have been filled with poopy diapers, nightly crying fits (not always the twins), and precious moments of laughter. As I knew he would be, Hunt is an incredible father to Greyson and Skylar. He’s even started working from home during the day to watch over them while I head into the office, working in my new position as managing editor. Yes, he is both CEO and stay-at-home father. Who would have guessed it.
Personally
, I think he just doesn’t trust others with our bundles of pooping joy, and they absolutely adore him, laughing and kicking hysterically every time he walks into the room. There’s something incredibly sexy about a man who takes charge with his children. Many sleepless nights, I discover him in the nursery, their tiny bodies in his arms, his large hand cupping their bald head resting heavily on his shoulder as he rocks them, classical music playing softly in the background.
And me, I’ve never been happier.
With Dante gone, we can finally begin. We’ve never experienced what our relationship could be like without secrets, lies, heartache, and all the obstacles that stood in our path, challenging us at every turn.
I hate to boast, but life is damn near perfect.
Tonight, Hunt and I are going out for a rare evening away from home. Maya and Chase offered to look after the twins. They said it’s good practice before the big game.
Hunt insisted on keeping where we’re going a secret. The first he’s kept from me in months. We drive north out of the city and keep driving for over an hour. About fifteen minutes ago, Hunt handed me a blindfold and instructed me to put it on. I did because I knew I really didn’t have a choice.
“This is ridiculous,” I insist as we turn from a paved road onto a compact dirt path.
“You wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise, would you?”
The car comes to a stop.
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”
The buckle of my seatbelt releases from its sheath.
“Good.”
His car door opens and shuts.
I wait and listen to the faint tread of Hunt’s footsteps rounding the frontend of Hunt’s new-ish car, a jet black 2015 Ferrari LaFerrari. When they near, my door opens, an earthy breeze washing over the cab of the exotic car. The blindfold snuggly placed over my eyes makes it impossible to see where we are, but the scent riding the wind’s back smells nostalgically familiar.