Forevermore

by Cristiane Serruya

  “I’ll be alright,” she mumbled.

  “Ava.” There was censure in her voice mixed with affection and exasperation.

  Reluctantly, Ava brought her gaze up to meet Sydney’s. It was impossible to resist her grave eyes. With something between a sigh and a moan, she dropped her head back, banging it softly on the wall. “It’s the unfairness of the situation that makes me so mad! Liv is going to die no matter what he does! But he doesn’t seem to understand.”

  “Well, then it’s up to you to make him understand, isn’t it?” Sydney suggested, patting her arm.

  Ava looked down and wrinkled her nose. “You’re so logical.”

  “Of course I am,” she agreed, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m wise beyond my years.”

  Ava laughed.

  Sydney’s cellphone rang. “It’s the hospital, I must answer it.”

  When she’d disappeared looking for a better connection, Ava finished the cleaning, set the load to wash in cold, and walked outside.

  The snow had stopped, and little pinpoints of light were poking out everywhere from beyond the clouds. She leaned against the post and looked up to the stars. “I don’t think I’m the one to make him understand, though.” I wish I’d never noticed how his eyes are like Emma’s and how nice his mouth is when he smiles.

  Ava ran the tip of her tongue gingerly over her lips. I wish he’d never kissed me.

  Liar. Admit it, you’re glad he kissed you. You’ve never felt anything like that before, and no matter what, you’re glad he kissed you that night. And even more glad he made love to you tonight.

  They had gotten caught up in the moment; swept along in some powerful, emotional storm.

  But she wouldn’t have changed a thing about the hour or so that they’d spent in each other’s arms. But if she was honest with herself, Ava was troubled and confused about how the events would change her relationship with Aleksander.

  She forced her mind clear, taking deep, even breaths.

  She’d never imagined lovemaking could be like that—stormy, splendid.

  She replayed their lovemaking in her mind, stopping on the last part where, rather than tormenting her with a laborious controlled determination, he had shoved himself inside her, growling and snarling like a wild creature flown with lust…and something more.

  It had been more than love-making, and on some level, it scared her.

  He’d given her something precious. And she’d given him something precious right back. She didn’t know exactly what—her trust? A piece of her heart?—and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  What will happen if I fall for him? If I give him everything? A snowflake brushed over her hand. Will he welcome my…softer feelings? Or run from them?

  Whatever the answers, they scared her, too. All she knew was that she’d never experienced anything like that—and probably never would again.

  There was no other man like him.

  He was one of a kind.

  She wished he could be hers. But since that was not possible the best she could do was stay away from him. Stay away the best she could while living in the same house and caring for his daughter.

  And she knew that would not be easy.

  It would be impossible.

  Chapter 27

  Sunday, November 15, 2015

  8:00 a.m.

  * * *

  A series of harsh, staccato raps penetrated the fog of Ava’s sleep. She pulled her pillow over her head, willing the sound away.

  “Just leave me alone,” she muttered, the fabric of the pillow muffling her words.

  Then, mercifully, the knocking stopped. She wanted her body to go back to sleep, but then remembrances of last night intruded and sleep was instantly forgotten.

  She groaned, wishing it had been nothing more than a non-horrible nightmare—if that existed.

  “Are you going to sleep your life away?” Sydney chided, as she set a mug of steaming coffee on her friend’s nightstand.

  Ava rolled over and stared up at Sydney through half-closed eyes.

  “What time is it?” she mumbled. She sat up slowly and reached for the coffee.

  “It’s eight o’clock,” Sydney told her. Sitting on the bed opposite Ava, Sydney crossed her legs and sipped her own coffee.

  “It’s eight already? Can’t be,” Ava protested.

  “Sure is.”

  Sydney drained her mug and smiled at her. “It’s your turn.”

  Suddenly, thoughts of last night came back to her. Of Olivia’s illness. “Is Olivia—”

  “Get dressed and see for yourself.”

  Sydney looked happy, and almost well-rested despite spending the entire night on-duty with Olivia. She knew it had to be good news. “She’s all right?”

  Sydney nodded. “I wish the same could be said for her father. He seems a wreck.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know you, Ava. You won’t let him wallow, not for long.” She gulped the last of her coffee.

  “What?”

  “It’s your nature to fix things, heal things, kiss it where it hurts. Olivia always liked you better because of your gentle, loving ways.”

  She gave Sydney a hug before she jumped out of her bed. “Then I better not let her down.”

  As Sydney’s cryptic words had suggested, Ava found when she arrived in the little girl’s bedroom, things were almost back to normal.

  She smiled with relief when she stepped into the bedroom and saw Olivia sitting cross-legged on her comforter, scribbling in her journal. But it was a tremulous sense of normalcy, Ava knew. There were so many ups and downs in her line of work that she’d come to never take anything at face value.

  “Hey, Pixie,” she said, giving her toe a tweak. “How are you doing?”

  “Great!” she answered, as if last night had been nothing but a bad dream.

  Ava went through her routine, checking her pulse and heartbeat with her stethoscope, inspecting the record of her vitals that Sydney had written on her clipboard during the night. Her fever was gone, and there was a flush of soft pink in her cheeks.

  It definitely seemed as though the storm had passed. But there would be more. She was certain of that, which made the smile fall from her lips.

  “Liv,” she said gently, sitting on the edge of her bed. “If you get sick again, do you want to go to the hospital again or stay home?”

  “Not the hospital,” Olivia answered gloomily. “Not ever again.”

  “Right. So if you get sick again, you want to stay home.” Ava took a deep breath and as gently as she could, she said, “But you know that probably means you will go to heaven sooner, right?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “And Mommy will be there waiting for me, so it’s okay.”

  “Liv.”

  Aleksander’s croaked voice startled Ava. She hadn’t noticed him creeping up behind them.

  He stepped beside Olivia’s bed and gave his daughter a kiss, but before he did, Ava was sure she could see tears in his eyes.

  Incapable of containing himself, he lifted his daughter in his arms and hugged her. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “Yes, silly.” Olivia giggled. “Madly.”

  “Yes, I love you madly. I’m so lucky.”

  “And I’m so lucky, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you love me madly.” She smiled and hugged him. “Will you go to heaven soon, too?”

  If I could, I would go in your place. Or I’d take you there. Aleksander closed his eyes to stop the tears from falling and drew his daughter closer to his heart. He didn’t say yes or no. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know, but we’ll meet each other in heaven someday, I promise.”

  “I will miss you so much.”

  Hugging her tighter, Aleksander hid his face in the crook of her neck because the damned tears were falling. “I know, baby. I know.” I will miss you more.

  Aleksander hadn’t slept at all last night. Not with thoughts of Olivia swirli
ng through his head. And now her words saying she was ready to go to heaven were eating at him.

  Yes, she’d seemed better, but for how much longer would that last if nothing was done? And what if the pet SCAN today revealed the worst?

  He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and walked to the window facing the lake.

  He wasn’t sure he could take more bad news.

  While the snowfall had diminished, it remained falling, and the usual turquoise and teal waters were grayish, the color of a faded bruise.

  Waves crept up against the snow-covered beach, slowly, as if trying to nibble away at the rippled blanket of white.

  He opened his French doors and stepped out to the veranda.

  As he watched Canadian ducks wing and soar over the trees, he conceded that Ava was right.

  Wanting to drag Olivia off to Manhattan in the middle of the night was lunacy, a spur of the moment decision, made simply because he didn’t want to sit by and do nothing.

  That was the hard part. All this sitting about idly, while his daughter wasted away.

  He wanted to do what was right, but damned if he knew what it was.

  Ava was standing in the kitchen, making tea and thinking about breakfast. But once she spotted Aleksander coming toward the kitchen, she forgot all about food. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is.

  The morning sunlight streaming in through the windows bounced off his chestnut hair highlighting the cinnamon and honey hidden in the dark strands that would have been too long, if it weren’t for the bit of unruly curl.

  “Good morning again.”

  He stopped in the doorway and rubbed his hand through his hair as he contemplated her, mussing it even further.

  But whatever softness the disarray of his hair might have imparted to his appearance was countered by his eyes. They were sharp and cold, a piercing translucent green, like a creek flooded with icy spring waters. “Good morning again, to you.”

  She looked down at the mug of tea she held gripped in both hands. A faint wisp of steam rose from it and vanished. When she spoke, her voice was low with regret. “I was horribly rude to you last night.”

  Aleksander shrugged and approached the counter to make himself a mug of coffee. “You were upset by my questioning the wiseness of keeping Olivia here.”

  “Yes.” Her eyes were an open reflection of her sorrow. “But you had a right to question it and I was wrong to strike out at you the way I did. I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “I don’t want your apology, Ava.”

  Because he sounded annoyed, she looked up quickly. “I’d feel better if you’d take it, Aleksander. You’ve been very kind.”

  To her astonishment, he swore under his breath.

  “I don’t care for your gratitude any more than your apology.” He set down his mug and opened the refrigerator, taking out a bowl of fruits. “Neither of them is necessary.”

  “They are to me,” Ava replied, then took a step toward him. She set down her tea and touched his arm. “I don’t usually preach to people.”

  “Then why break the habit of a lifetime?” His manner was polite but cool as he stepped away, putting his mug and bowl on the counter, but feeling too unsettled by her presence to even sit. “Apologies accepted.”

  “Aleksander…I understand what you’re going through.” Ava’s c-section scar felt tight and her stomach churned. “I can barely bring myself to speak of it, but I have also lost a loved one.”

  “God forbid that you should have showed me a weakness,” Aleksander said, turning to her with raised eyebrows. “Why, I might have thought you a mere mortal.”

  Her past life shouldn’t matter to him. Her future shouldn’t matter to him either. But it did and it disturbed him in a profound way.

  “I am mortal.” Ava closed her eyes and whispered, “As was my baby daughter.”

  He stiffened in shock and put his hands to her shoulders as if to push her away. As if pushing her away, he could also push away the fact that she had also lost a daughter and thereby deny her the ability to truly know what he was feeling.

  Then she heard his breath come out in a hard exhalation as he brought her to his chest. “Christ, Ava. I’m sorry.”

  She let impulse and need guide her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “It was long ago. I was too young, barely twenty.”

  “Is that why you chose it? Medicine?” Aleksander asked, running a soothing hand over her back.

  “No, I was in medical school already. But it obviously impacted my life in other ways. Maybe all ways.”

  I can only imagine. “I’m sure.”

  She stepped back from his arms. “My…metamorphosis and life direction since her passing have been painful, and many moments have brought me to my knees, but I’m okay now. Or as close to it as I can be just yet.”

  “I don’t know how that’s possible. How have you been able to not only carry on, but help others so profoundly while you have your own horrible grief?”

  “Believe it or not, Emma’s death provided me with the opportunities to find significant fulfillment and contentment in life.”

  Aleksander was stunned speechless for a moment. She was living proof that life was still possible after the death of a child. And not just scraping by, surviving in some kind of emotional hell. “You’re right. It is hard to believe. But it’s encouraging, and I applaud you, if that doesn’t sound as inappropriate as it feels to say.”

  “In the end, of course I would trade everything to have Emma with me again.” A tear trailed down her face and Ava smiled ruefully. “At the risk of failing to make this statement, I always thought that that would be a given. Unfortunately, I’m not God and I have no ability to change time, or the course of history, either.”

  “Neither do I. It’s a powerless feeling, to accept one’s mortality,” he said. He admired her more than ever before. She’d been through hell but still came out positive. She could have a pity party for herself but never did. She pushed on and never gave up.

  “I inevitably make the peculiar statement that Emma’s death provided me with one of the greatest gifts of my life. The fact that she died is not a gift. The life lesson taught as a result of her death, and the choice I made to understand and embrace this perspective; that is the gift.”

  He lifted her chin with his finger and breathed, “I never know precisely what to expect from you.”

  There were no tears in his eyes or even a drop of moisture, but he showed his agony and empathy to her pain in a more profound way. His eyes were the gateway to his soul—which she knew was about to be broken beyond repair.

  She felt his fingers tighten on her skin before his lips brushed hers lightly. It was the softest one he’d ever given her.

  She cupped his face and slowly moved her mouth against his as tears saturated her eyes. Warm and salty, they streaked down her cheeks until they landed on his skin.

  He gripped her tighter, leaning into her, sharing that vulnerable and tender moment.

  They connected in a way more profound than any other they’d shared. He touched her like a delicate rose petal, and she poured her heart out to him as she returned the kiss.

  In that one chaste kiss, she laid down her cards and told him the truth—that she cared deeply about him.

  He stared at the ground because he couldn’t handle the look in her eyes.

  “I should check on Olivia,” he said. He turned his back on her and walked away.

  She didn’t know exactly what had happened but somehow she felt lighter.

  Monday, November 16, 2015

  8:00 a.m.

  * * *

  As he readied to take Olivia into town for her pet SCAN, he thought about Ava. Ava, who was so strong in the middle of crisis. His harbor in the storm.

  The hope he needed in the middle of the war.

  The light in his darkness, for as long as he needed.

  Forevermore.

  And what had he done? While she was in the mid
st of talking about her own struggles, he’d turned her away, left her alone.

  It had been too much, hearing her speak of her own mortality, her own weakness. He needed her to be a rock for him, to be constant, steady. And is anyone ever like that? No.

  As selfish as he knew it made him seem, it gave him a sharp sense of loss to think she might not be there in the future. It was an easy thing to think about, to plan for, but plans rarely turned out the way he wanted. His life thus far had told him that.

  He turned off his heart and kicked her out of his mind. Because there was no forevermore. As much as he wanted there to be, it was all an illusion.

  Ava smiled at Olivia as the nurse wheeled her back after the tests to the reception room.

  Having accompanied the test, she was hopeful. The other night’s episode was just a blip, a passing twenty-four hour virus, not tied to the cancer.

  Perhaps they’d be able to have the merry holidays together after all, without having to think so much about the dreaded disease.

  She excused herself from Olivia and Aleksander, as he settled the bill, and called the hospital.

  “Good morning, may I speak with Dr. Follett?” Ava asked.

  “Well, if it isn’t our little snow-bunny, Ava. Get any skiing in?” Brian quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  She cringed but ignored his question and said, “I’m calling for Olivia’s exam results. Have you looked at them?”

  “Not me,” he muttered. “They just came in. Dr. Follett will want to talk to you about it. I’ll put him on.”

  She straightened with concern. An important, busy man, Dr. Follett wouldn’t interject himself in such matters unless there’d been something alarming in the tests—something she had missed.

  A moment later, she found herself on the phone with him. “Morning, Dr. Follett. I wanted to talk to you—”

  “About Olivia’s exams. Yes, they’re surprising,” he said at once.