by Lan LLP
Once again, I glance at my phone, mentally invoking a call or text message from Lily, but there is none. I know why I’m not calling her. It’s too painful for me to hear her tell me that she loves someone else, but why hasn’t she called me? Has Richard finally convinced her to remove all traces of me?
Chapter 22
Lillian Ly
Thanks to Richard, I passed my pharmacology exam. Finally, something positive is happening in my life. I’m waiting for him and Amelia to meet me so we can celebrate with popsicles and french fries. My appetite is improving, now that I’m almost five weeks along. I even have odd food cravings. I think I might be showing a little, but Amelia tells me it’s all in my head. She thinks I’m still skinny as a rail. I can’t resist touching my belly all the time. I already feel such a tight bond with my little Peanut. This is what she or he resembles to me from my first ultrasound yesterday. Amelia and Richard both came with me, and of course, we girls shed a few joyful tears while Richard kept his emotions intact. There’s no possible way I could get through this without their unwavering support.
Richard shows up first because Amelia is always running late. He sits down next to me, pats and talks to my belly. “How are you doing in there, little Peanut?” he attempts to rouse a smile on my face.
“Richard, are you calling my baby a nut?” I incite a smile from him instead. “Don’t worry baby, uncle Dick doesn’t mean it.” He laughs hysterically. It’s so contagious that I break down and join in with him.
Amelia finally shows up. “What are you two laughing about?” she pries, not wanting to miss out on the laughter.
“Uncle Dick calls my baby a nut,” I chuckle the words out. Amelia begins to laugh with us as well.
This is a rare moment for me because I haven’t laughed or smiled for over two weeks since I stopped talking to Carson. He hasn’t made any effort to contact me either. He had me fooled with his ceaseless charm—promised me forever in exchange for my innocence. I eagerly handed it over to him with an open heart. He used me and tossed me coldly to the curb. I have to admit, nights are more difficult for me than days. I still crave his touch and kisses. Occasionally, I’d Google his name to see what’s happening in his life because I can’t cut him out completely. I know he’s been keeping himself busy with charity events and a new trophy girl. She’s a tall curvy brunette named Nikki. I remember her from the lymphoma charity in Chicago. A man of his status can’t remain single for long. There’s an endless supply of women for him to choose from. Unfortunately, I wasn’t good enough for him, so he moved on to the next woman. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m coping with it, one day at a time.
Now that my nausea is much better, I no longer have to drink Jean’s awful tea, thank God for that. I’ve called him several times, hoping to get an explanation for his bizarre note, but still haven’t had any luck. He’s supposedly away visiting his family in Haiti, but no one was able to tell me when he would be returning. All I want is a little peace of mind. It’s uncanny that his prediction was absolutely right about Carson’s love not lasting. If only I could understand the danger part of his cryptic message.
Carson Bradley
I’ve resorted to isolating myself with several bottles of vodka and whiskey for the past two weeks. My cousin Nikki has been helping me fulfill all of my charity obligations. If not for her, I would’ve disappointed many hopeful people counting on me. She forced me to sober up, and I fought her every step of the way. It’s much easier to numb my pain with alcohol than deal with it.
Owen has been filling in for me whenever and wherever possible while I obsess over those damn pictures. I’ve extended Luke’s contract for a few more weeks. I need to know what’s happening in her life at all time. He’s feeding my Lillian addiction with his spying. Just yesterday I received pictures of Lil and Richard leaving a hospital together. And then this morning, I finally get the confirmation I’ve feared all along, a picture of Richard caressing Lily’s belly. It was a stab through my heart. I could handle the pictures of them in bed better than this picture of them and their baby.
I’ve hardly slept except for the few nights I drank ‘til I passed out. This might have to be one of those nights again. I pour myself a tall glass of whiskey on the rocks and chug it like water. I welcome the burn. It can’t possibly hurt any more than what I’m already feeling inside. I collapse on my bed and the pictures fly everywhere and land on top of me. Fuck this silence! I’m going to call her and give her a piece of my mind. I dig into my pocket to pull out my phone, but it’s not there. I pat around my bed to find it underneath the pile of pictures that’s been persecuting me every night. The phone rings four times and then her voice interrupts it, “Hello.” She sounds hoarse like I woke her up from a deep sleep. I squint at my watch and see that it’s 1:23 a.m. At this point, it’s too late to sweat the minor details like why I’m calling her at this time. “Are you okay, Carson? Why are you up so late?” Her soft voice is full of concern for me, but I’m not going to fall for that fake, sweet charm.
“It must be fucking nice to be able to sleep without any guilt on your mind,” I cut into her with the sharpest tone possible. She hasn’t been exposed to this curt and condescending side of me. “Some people can easily move on and not give a shit about the ones they’ve hurt. I was completely fooled by your innocence, but little did I know, there’s nothing innocent about you. You’ve been taking me for a fool, juggling Richard and me at the same time until you figure out which one of us is a better catch for you. How could you trampled all over my heart after I told you I love you?” There, I think I told her everything that’s been tearing me up inside.
Her voice is still soft but shaky. “Carson, listen to me carefully. I’m only going to tell you this once. I swear I’ve never been dishonest with you. I know I’ve never told you this, but I love you and no one else, and you’re the only person I’ve ever slept with.” It sounds like she’s trying to hold back her tears by swallowing hard. Her breathing is hitched. “I told you that once I give you my heart, it’s yours forever unless you break it,” she pauses, “You broke it! It’s over between us. Stay away from me. I never want to see you again.” She ends our call abruptly. The last sound I hear is her crying. My cruel intention is to make her hurt like I’m hurting, but it causes me more pain instead.
She just told me she loves me. Though I may have felt that she did at one time, she’s never uttered those words to me until now. None of this is making any sense. What have I done? There’s nothing, but sincerity in her voice. She never once mentioned Richard, and according to her, I broke her heart and not the other way around. I can’t accept that things are over between us because it’ll never be over between us. I love her too much to allow that to happen. My drunken mind is battling to think clearly. I have to rectify this before it remains permanently broken.
I coax myself out of bed and quickly jump into an ice cold shower. My body is instantly awakened, but my mind needs something stronger. I dry my body off, wrap a cotton robe around me and make my way to the kitchen. I concoct two shots of espresso for myself and inhale the strong aroma of java before sipping it. My mind is now fully alert, and I’m ready to think clearly.
Collecting all the pictures off of my bed, I study them once more with an unbiased approach. Lillian’s eyes are closed in all these pictures. Her hair is up in a metallic ponytail holder, just like the one she was wearing the night she passed out from the alcohol. I remember it well because my eyes were fixed on that metallic piece the entire night. I couldn’t sleep because I was worried she had alcohol poisoning. It was a bad call on my part to agree with Ame to not take her to the hospital. She convinced me that it would affect her medical school record. I also recall how pissed I was with Richard. He was alone with her for god knows how long. That motherfucker did take advantage of her after all, but then how did Bianca’s investigator get such professional close-up pictures of them? The deeper I dig, the fishier things started to smell. Nik warned me about Bianca’s scorn
. I have a bad feeling I just fell for one of her schemes. I’m not quite sure how this all fits together, but one thing I’m damn sure about is I’m flying there tomorrow. I will make things right again between Lil and me and confront Richard—kick his ass if I have to.
I pack my bag and impatiently wait till almost 6:00 a.m. before calling Owen to arrange my flight to St. Croix. “Owen, I have to get my shit together. I’d like for you to cover for me for the rest of the week.”
“No problem, sir. I’m relieved to hear some fight in you. It hasn’t been easy, seeing you beat yourself up day after day,” his voice perks up with hope. I’m hearing an unfamiliar tender side of him for the second time in a two month span.
“Call me if you need any authorization, and by the way, don’t pick me up this morning. I’ll take a cab to the airport.”
“Good luck, sir!” His usual monotonous tone is lively. Could he possibly be rooting for Lily? It’s absolutely unheard of for Owen to become emotionally attached to anyone. I smile internally, witnessing this rare sentimental side of him.
Captain Franco waits promptly for me at the top of the steps when I hop out of the taxi. I won’t miss this chilling wind beating against my face or the snow. I think to myself as I walk towards the jet. Damn the global warming! It’s only late October, so snow shouldn’t be drizzling down like this. I’m modestly dressed with only St. Croix in mind, wearing a light fitted jacket over my dark gray shawl neck sweater. Brr, I’m freezing cold. I fight my way up the steps, sheltering my eyes with my hand from soft white snowflakes blowing carelessly everywhere. Captain Franco welcomes me aboard, shakes my hand and hastily shuts the door behind us. The warmth inside the jet is welcoming. “Good morning Mr. Bradley,” he courteously greets me. “We’re cleared for takeoff, but if the snow persists, there’s a good chance we won’t make it back this evening,” he forewarns calmly.
“This will not be an issue for me.” I take my usual seat and securely buckle myself in. Captain Franco broadcasts his safety instructions and then taxis down the runway. In less than twenty minutes, we’re flying smoothly in the air. I have a little over four hours to figure out how to salvage what Lil and I have left, but the past couple of sleepless nights finally catches up with me and knocks me out cold.
I wake up to Captain Franco’s voice, warning me to remain seated and have my seatbelt securely fastened. “We’ll be experiencing some unfavorable turbulence due to the storm ahead of us.” Oh shit, it’s déjà-vu all over again. I can’t be lucky twice. Quietly, I meditate in my seat and wait for the commotion to end. I have faith in Captain Franco’s skills. He’ll get us through this without a hitch. After about ten minutes of passing through some rough patches, the rest of the flight is perfectly smooth.
Upon our landing, I see a man dressed in a black suit standing patiently by a limo out of my little window. Owen is impressively reliable. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s perfect for the vice-president position. I walk to the cockpit and thank Captain Franco for his remarkable flying skills before heading out. “Please enjoy your time here and stay at a hotel of your choice for the evening. Charge everything to my account. I’ll call you tomorrow for further details about our flight back to Boston.”
“Thank you, sir, and I’ll see you tomorrow with Miss Ly,” he replies with a sly smile. Wow, Lily has another fan rooting for her, too. I pretend not to notice the last part of his comment and head towards the exit with a grin.
I make my way down the steps, sweating like crazy from the sweltering heat and humidity because of my two layers of winter clothing, as opposed to early this morning when I was freezing from the snow. I hurriedly remove my extra layers and tuck them into the side pocket of my leather bag. The driver courteously introduces himself and takes my bag for me. I slip into the backseat and prepare myself for my first Lillian encounter since over two painful weeks ago. I immediately ask the driver to head in the direction of Lillian’s school. My heart paces rapidly, simply from thinking about her. I have no idea how I’m going to approach her. But first, I need to find her. I pull my phone out and call Luke.
“Mr. Bradley, how may I help you?” he promptly answers.
“Good morning Luke. I need you to disclose Miss Ly’s location to me.”
“She’s offering free medical services at a nearby town.”
I’ll use this opportunity to confront Richard first and then talk to her afterwards. “Luke, can you give me Mr. Steven’s current location?”
“Mr. Stevens is with Miss Ly,” he replies. My temper seethes instantly by several degrees. My jaws lock firmly as my muscles tighten. When it comes to Lillian, there’s no subtlety for my jealousy. Hate flows so violently through my veins for Richard that I can see the throbbing pressure against my skin.
“I need the address now,” I curtly demand and then regret that I came across undeservingly terse. “Please,” I add to soften my sharpness. Luke texts me the new address, and I ask the driver to reroute to the new location instead. I attempt several relaxation techniques to help reduce my stress and anger, but nothing seems to help. As time ticks away, so does my composure.
Some of the roads are poorly paved, especially the more recluse, deprived areas of the island. The high curvy cliffs are intimidating to drive on even during light hours. It could be fatal for anyone speeding recklessly around these sharp turns at night. It terrifies me to imagine Lily traveling on these roads by herself. The chauffer informs me that we’re approaching my destination, and I break away from horrible thoughts of Lily wrecking on these roads.
“Discreetly park the limo along this hidden gravel path,” I instruct the driver. I gather my sanity and remind myself to remain poised. It’s time to make things right between Lily and me, so we can move forward together. I step out of the limo and walk directly into a local market for information about a doctor volunteering free services. An elderly woman happily offers me direction to the town’s new clinic. I’m overjoyed to hear that Lily is already pursuing one of her dreams. I’m hoping that it still includes me.
I enter a small building with hand-painted metal sign above it that says ‘Sharing Is Caring.’ Lily once mentioned to me that if children are instilled to care for others at an impressionable age, it will follow them into adulthood. I think she’s living proof that this theory works. The structure appears to have been an old factory of some sort. There’s much work required to improve this place, but it has a solid foundation and lots of potential. The front lobby is filled with ailing people of all ages, waiting for their appointments. I walk up to a receptionist sitting at an old wooden school desk and ask for Medical-resident Ly. Many curious eyes are staring at me, but I’m unaffected by them.
“Medical-resident Stevens is the only one here. Miss Ly stepped out for more supplies and will return later today. How may I help you?” the receptionist with gentle dark brown eyes replies.
“I would like to see Mr. Stevens instead. It’s imperative that I speak with him,” I address her in my executive tone with demanding persuasion and strict eye contact. She obliges without hesitation, almost shying away and instructs me to walk directly back to the end of the hallway. My CEO confidence dissolves, and I’m left feeling insecure and uncertain. What will I say to Richard? The dark hallway lightens up as I near him. Ironically, there’s brightness shining through an opening above the building as my mind fills with repulsive dark thoughts. Below the open roof are a small, contained floral garden and two picnic tables. Richard’s back is facing me at the end of the hallway. There’s lunch for two neatly set up on the table. I sit down beside him, my back to his. “Are you expecting someone to join you?” I startle him with my harsh voice.
“Yes I am, and what the hell are you doing here?” he questions me with glowering eyes. “Shouldn’t you be in Boston entertaining your harem of women?”
The haughty sound of his voice shreds my ability to remain collected. I stand up and distance myself, praying that it’ll be enough to lessen my rage. I can do this. I
don’t have to resort to violence, I convince myself before opening my mouth to reply, “I see that you’ve wasted no time picking up the pieces.” It’s not working. My eyes narrow as my teeth gnash so firmly together I can feel the tension along my jaw.
He stands up to face me. “Someone had to since you left her completely broken, used and discarded.” His breathing is heavy and loud, he’s stirred up, too.
“What the fuck does that mean? I’m not the one who took advantage of her when she was helplessly drunk. You did!” I furiously scowl at him. “I know you were involved with those dirty pictures, Richard.”
He pauses a second to absorb what I just told him. Stunned and guilt-ridden, he looks at me. “Don’t fucking judge me! You know nothing about me or love!” he heatedly shouts. “Maybe if you didn’t use women and throw them out like trash, Bianca wouldn’t have to do what she did. Why don’t you do us all a favor and stay the hell out of our lives!”
After his smart-ass remark, it is impossible for me to control my anger. He doesn’t know shit about me either. I knock him down to the ground with one powerful and unexpected punch to his face. Pain shoots to my forearm from the impact, but my anger numbs it immediately. I knew my personal self-defense classes with Owen would come in handy one of these days. He wipes the blood from his mouth and comes charging at me with madness in his eyes. We both crash to the ground. I block his punch and flip him over onto his back with ease. My adrenaline is off the chart, and I’m dizzy with rage. All I want to do is beat the shit out of this man who’s been the cause of my heartache. I wind my arm back to increase momentum in my blow, but someone restrains it.