“No angel has ever been so corrupted compared to what I’m about to do to you.”
Chapter 3
It went against his instincts to drive himself away from her, to apply his foot to the gas pedal and accelerate away from her. Kasper knew he had to. Emilia always completed her best studies in the quiet, and he had a telephone conference with a potential client to attend to. Even as he told himself this, it was incredibly difficult to stay focused on the task of driving back to the manor. Later on, he told himself it was because of this distraction that he did not notice it at first.
He had just merged onto the interstate when it happened. In that first instant, Kasper believed his foot had twitched, or that perhaps the over consumption had his muscles flexing by themselves. But when he realized this wasn’t the case, and that the accelerator was performing without him, he tried to stamp it back into compliance.
The accelerator remained stuck.
***
Emilia had just fallen asleep when the call came, though admittedly she didn’t want to answer it at first—the need for sleep after a busy week being her main priority. When she realized the time, and recognized the ringtone as the one she assigned Mrs. Levkin, fear stuck to her like a sticky scab. She stumbled out of bed and reached for the vibrating phone.
“M-Mrs. Levkin?” she stuttered.
The older woman’s voice was barely a whisper. “Hello, dear. I’m sorry to call you so late, but I needed to speak with you.”
Emilia flipped on the light switch and simultaneously stretched. “I can barely hear you, is everything all right?”
The older woman sighed, her voice strained even as Emilia turned up the volume. “Yes and no…”
“What does that mean?” Emilia croaked. “Is Kasper okay? You? Tut?”
“I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but I feel terribly dishonest keeping the truth from you, dear. I am just as much in your employment now as his—”
“Just tell me!” she begged. “The suspense might literally kill me!”
“There was an incident this past Sunday—a small accident.”
Emilia’s heart stopped and her throat became dry. After he left her on Sunday she hadn’t heard from him again until Tuesday. And while she hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, Emilia now wondered why he had called when he knew she had a class, forcing her to rush the interaction between them.
“W-what kind of accident?” She sat down on the edge of the bed and prepared herself for the worst. Kasper had wanted her to stay in New York and wait until Labor Day weekend to come back down to New York, and though reluctant, she had agreed, wanting to devote herself to her studies as much as possible—not to mention how glorifying the release of their passion was after two weeks apart. If their lovemaking could be that magnificent after a few days apart, she could hardly imagine what they would do to each other in the midst of a three day weekend.
“There was some sort of mechanical failure with the BMW—”
Emilia reminded herself to breathe. She had talked to him on Tuesday—therefore if nothing else, he was alive and conscious.
“I understand that he managed to slow the car, but to avoid hitting another vehicle he swerved into the barrier. He is all right!” she quickly added. “When the airbag deployed—”
“I’m coming down,” Emilia said hastily. “I’ll leave right now.”
“No!” Mrs. Levkin insisted. “You must wait until the weekend so that I’m not revealed.”
“I-I can’t just sit around when I know he’s hurt. H-He could have died!”
“He is all right, dear, I promise you that. He’s more concerned about distressing you than himself. Even his car seems to have taken on more priority than his own health.”
“Figures.” Emilia closed her eyes and rubbed her temple aggressively. “I shouldn’t even be surprised.”
“I merely wanted to tell you before you arrived,” Mrs. Levkin said quickly, her voice still shushed. “The airbag broke his nose and his face is still badly swollen. You might have been upset at the sight.”
Upset? It was much too late for that. Still, below her panic, Emilia was glad that Mrs. Levkin had told her when she did. The last thing Kasper probably needed was to see her crying the minute she saw him again.
“I—thank you, Mrs. Levkin. I appreciate the consideration.” She sighed into the phone and considered something else. “Why are you whispering anyway?”
“He’s been keeping me busy all week with silly tasks around the manor. I suppose he doesn’t trust me not to say anything to you.”
Emilia smiled. “Where are you now?”
“Hiding in the basement. I have to go now, dear. I’ll see you soon.”
Despite the frightening news, Emilia laughed. Mrs. Levkin was a reliable resource to have on her side—perhaps even, she realized, something of a weapon.
***
For the first time in many years, he willed himself to look in the mirror. Because of the undeveloped tissue, Hartwell was unsure of how Kasper’s minor facial injuries would heal. In five days, the swollen cheeks that should have begun to recede had not—a terrible sight if there ever was one. And though the swelling of his nose had gone down considerably, Kasper still had great trouble breathing out of it on his own.
Eventually Hartwell was brave enough to refer a plastic surgeon.
As a child, many doctors—mostly still students themselves—had offered his aunt sums of money to attempt to repair Kasper’s facial features. Everything from lip collagen to hair follicles were installed in the young boy as though he were a living experiment. While hopeful they could give him a somewhat normal appearance, time and time again something would go wrong—making his face that much worse. Once the infected jaw implant had been removed, Kasper swore never again to put himself through such ordeals.
The good doctor, as well as Mrs. Levkin and Aasif, had spent that first day or so trying to convince him that the procedure was more practical rather than cosmetic. He shushed them immediately and tried once more to will his body to heal.
Unfortunately, that proved unsuccessful.
If Kasper was honest with himself, he would admit that despite his vow to himself, there had been another time he considered the potential of plastic surgery. As an undergraduate, he was often granted handicapped access to his academics, allowed to indulge in the private study program and remain in the dark of his chamber. He often watched others from his windows, envisioning himself laughing with friends and talking with girls. He had done quite a bit of research then and had learned about the advancements in cosmetic surgery. Still, there did not seem to be a real reason to invest himself in the pain associated with such elaborate procedures. Kasper was used to his life, and set in the ways of being alone. And if he should have gotten his hopes up only to find his time and money wasted—well, that seemed far more difficult than trying to once again accept his ugliness.
Another ten years had passed since that point. Kasper could not deny that the medical advances greatly appealed to him, but more than that, he now had a new reason to consider the option of plastic surgery.
She never complained, and for that, he was more grateful than any words he knew. Kasper could not even provide his new bride with a normal honeymoon, could not show her the sights himself for fear of being seen, could not, would not, attend functions that did not take place during the evening.
He could buy her anything in the world, but he could not give her an average life.
But what if he could? What if this surgeon could offer him the opportunity to do just that? Was it even possible to touch the light of the world for himself?
Kasper stared into the mirror. If he stared hard enough, he thought it was almost imaginable.
“Kasper! Kasper, where are you?”
He had the vaguest sense of déjà vu and shivered. Was it not so long ago that she had shouted the very same thing to him from the front door? Then again, why was she there at all? Did they not agree to wai
t until the long weekend to meet again?
Kasper stood up and walked to the staircase railing outside his office door. Sure enough, she was there, looking pale and terrified.
“My love,” he shouted down to her. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
Despite his injuries, she smiled at the sight of his face when she looked up at him. Instantly, without asking, he knew his assistant had opened her big mouth yet again.
“You did not need to come,” he said, following her steps as she ran up the stairs. “It is not nearly as bad as it appears.”
She flew into his arms rather than letting him finish his sentence—her whimpers of relief combined with laughter.
“Emilia,” he tried to soothe her, even though his bruised ribs ached slightly as she squeezed him. In all of his days, it was the most pleasant kind of pain he had ever experienced. “All is well, my love. I swear to you—”
She interrupted him with a swat to his shoulder and a firm look. “How is this well? You look awful!”
Though painful, he rolled his eyes. “You are just now noticing? Despite your foolishness, I have rarely doubted your eyesight, but now…”
“What happened, Kasper?” Emilia stepped away and crossed her arms over her chest. Even through her narrowed eyes he could sense her concern for him.
“The accelerator in the BMW became stuck. I attempted to disconnect the engine, but when that didn’t work I’m afraid I had to apply the brakes.”
She shook her head. “So how did you end up crashing?”
“There seemed to be some kind of electronic failure. The automatic brakes snapped just as I was nearing the end of a traffic jam. It was either the concrete wall or a motorcyclist.”
“Oh, Kasper, why didn’t you call me? You could have been killed!”
He brought her to him and chuckled softly. There was something suddenly unnerving about her looking at the newer damage to his face, a shame there he couldn’t quite shake off.
“For exactly this reason,” he mocked. “You know how I hate to see dark circles under those pretty eyes of yours. Telling you about this before you got here would have only worried you more than necessary.”
“I’m your wife, Kasper, not your child. You don’t have to protect me from reality.”
“Maybe I do not have to.” He shrugged with her still in his arms. “But I want to.”
“Were you going to tell me at all? Or did you think I just wouldn’t notice the totaled car and the change in your voice?”
“It is rather cumbersome, isn’t it?” He sighed and wiggled his nose to test the feature. Immediately, however, the pain rang up to his brain. “I’m afraid not only am I not one of the beautiful people, but now I sound like a cartoon character.”
“What did Hartwell say? Won’t it heal?”
Kasper shook his head. He had hoped to make her laugh and relieve the tension, but because he hadn’t, he felt considerably worse. “Not without being reset. I have a consultation with a plastic surgeon tomorrow evening.”
“A plastic surgeon?” Emilia had wondered more than once why Kasper didn’t explore the possibilities—especially with his resources and intense dislike for his appearance. And yet the thought never went anywhere beyond that. It was such a remote subject for her that she didn’t even feel the need to bring it up.
“H-How do you feel about that?” she asked cautiously.
There was a touch of amusement in his voice “I was about to ask you the same question.”
“It sounds cliché, but I love you just the way you are, Kasper. If getting your nose repaired helps you breathe better, then by all means, but I would be lying if I said I was comfortable with the idea of you going under the knife.”
“Another cliché, my love? Honestly—”
“Stop trying to be funny, Kasper. This is serious.”
“I know it is, darling. But it is hardly the topic for such a late hour, and after the long drive you must be tired. Why don’t we save this for the morning, hmm?”
Leaning into him, Emilia allowed him to rub her back in the way she liked. If she was forced to confess, her lower back did hurt from the hastened drive. “Okay,” she sighed. “We’ll put it off until the morning.”
***
The next morning however, came and went, bleeding quickly into the afternoon where Kasper avoided the subject brilliantly, excusing himself with work and talk of important phone calls. Emilia would have been annoyed, mad even, if it wasn’t a long weekend and she wasn’t busy with a great deal of her own to do. It must have been because of this, with her own worries and her concerns for Kasper that she was still willing to answer her cell phone when it rang with a number she didn’t recognize—her first instinct being that it might be a professor or classmate with a question or change in assignment.
“Hello?”
For an instant there was only silence.
“Hello?”
“Baby?”
Emilia almost dropped the phone. It had been nearly two years since she had heard from her mother—two years that had gone by quickly, and mostly happily. And while there were things Emilia had regretted, not having her mother in her life was not one of them.
“Mom.” She said it, yet could still hardly believe it.
“Hi, Honey!” Her voice suggested she was near tears. “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear your voice.”
“What do you want, Mom?” Emilia began to wish she had changed her number and asked herself why she hadn’t after reuniting with Kasper.
“D-Don’t be that way, baby.” Susan’s voice was syrupy sweet in an unnatural way. Vaguely, it reminded Emilia of a dessert made with artificial sweetener. Right away, it had her reaching for her glass of water to rinse her mouth out with. “I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you so much! It’s been so long.”
“I don’t have time for this, Mom.” She sipped at her water gingerly. “I have to study.” Emilia had thought about what she would do when she would do when her mother got in contact with her again, how she would react. After envisioning the scenario more than once, Emilia told herself she would be calm and controlled, cool, collected. Now that it had come, however, she was far too submerged in her worry for Kasper, his subsequent breathing troubles, and her schoolwork to keep her temper under her thumb. Perhaps, she reasoned, she would never again have the tolerance required to deal with her mother.
“You’re still in school? God, honey, that’s great! I’m so proud of you.”
Emilia slammed her glass down and watched small droplets spit out from the force of it. “You don’t have any right to be proud of me.”
Susan’s response was quiet. “I-I deserve that, I know. I j-just wanted to apologize for, well, for everything. I was hoping you’d agree to see me,” she said enthusiastically and in a hurry that suggested she knew Emilia was thinking of hanging up on her. “I’m in the program—have been for a while—and one of the steps is making amends—do you think we could get together?”
“Mom.” Emilia pinched her brow and closed her eyes tight. “I don’t even live in the area anymore, and frankly—” She searched her mind for a simple enough explanation. “I don’t think I’d be comfortable with that.”
Emilia could practically see her mother dabbing at her eyes with a tissue with the long pause, and she almost hung up on her right then and there. “I’m not with him anymore,” she sniffed. “I know that doesn’t fix anything…that I can’t make up for how I let you down—”
“I have to go, Mom.”
Emilia hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
***
Perhaps because she had envisioned reuniting with her mother so many times, rejecting her as she had and the brief conversation within itself did not weigh as heavily on Emilia as she would have thought. Even as evening descended, and she and Kasper traveled to attend a private consultation at the surgeon’s clinic, she thought of her mother so little, Emilia hadn’t even bothered to mention the conversati
on to her husband.
Instead Emilia remained fascinated as Kasper continued to avoid the subject of his car accident, changing the radio station, and asking her extensive questions about her class work and professors every time he seemed to sense she was about to ask a question, until eventually she gave up, settling herself to the apprehensiveness she felt and counting the seconds until they pulled into the empty parking lot.
Appropriately, the waiting room of the surgeon’s office was lowly lit, excluding, of course, the large fish tank, where the entire cast of Finding Nemo lingered in the crisp blue. Emilia shifted uncomfortably at the sight of bare breasts on the walls and dug her toes into the lines of the freshly vacuumed carpet. She looked for the receptionist, but there was not one to be seen.
Kasper, who seemed as equally uncomfortable, cracked his knuckles while his eyes darted from one set of brochures to another.
“I understand it is not uncommon for potential clients to request after-hour consultations.”
She crossed her arms over herself and sighed. “Rhinoplasty is a fairly common procedure, Kasper. Why all the secrecy for something so basic? Why are you acting so strangely?” Her eyes widened as she gripped his arm roughly, her voice going up at least two more octaves. “Is something else wrong other than your nose? Is there something else you aren’t telling me?”
“No, my peach.” Kasper’s shoulder’s sagged under the weight of his sigh as he stared at Emilia. Clearly, it had been his intention to put this announcement off for as long as possible, but now it seemed that time was up.
“I am considering more than the rhinoplasty.”
Her eyes widened at the announcement. “You’re considering it? Why didn’t you say something?”
Before he could answer, a grubby but well-dressed man wearing a white coat walked out from one of the offices and gestured for them to come inside. Emilia followed, though with clear hesitation. If Kasper thought that Emilia didn’t like the idea of Kasper having invasive plastic surgery, he was dead on. She was familiar from her studies alone that the sort of surgery Kasper would need would be incredibly dangerous, and even if there were no complications, there would be no guarantees of any improvements.
Adapting Desires (Endangered Heart Series Book 3) Page 3