by LLP, Lan
“Are you okay, sir?” he inquires, picking up on my change in tone.
“Yeah,” I reply. This can’t be true. I know who I am. It has to be coincidental.
“There’s one more thing. Francine Hanover is now Francine Manns,” he adds. “She’s the same woman Miss Ly is pushing for us to help.” Shit. So that’s why Wes and Bridgette were at the hospital today. They must’ve told Lil everything. According to Luke, the three of them had a very long discussion. Then why didn’t she say anything to me? This dying woman could be my biological mother.
“I better get going, Owen. I’m running late for Andrew’s party. Thanks for the information.” I rush him off to give my brain space and time to put my shattered world back together.
I need a goddamn drink. It’s the only thing that can take the edge off my frayed nerves and mask my new found agony. In a hurry, I tip the bourbon decanter and overfill the crystal glass in my shaky hand, spilling the dark amber liquid onto the contrasting white carpet. Ignoring the speckled stain around my feet, I slam the liquor down my throat—all of it. Fuck! I’ve forgotten how hot this shit is. My chest feels like a burning oven with irrepressible flames, fighting to escape. I settle back into Luke’s chair, Lil’s name for it since it’s the location he sits in every day, and glare out to the familiar horizon of buildings and lights.
The impenetrable barrier I’ve created around my heart had served its purpose for the past fifteen years until now. Lillian is its new owner and when our babies are born, it’ll be divvied equally among all the people I love, including my parents. Will I be hurt and angry if I discover they’d been lying to me? Sure. Who wouldn’t be? But does that change what they are to me or how much we love each other? It doesn’t. I’m beyond the age where it would affect me emotionally or scar me. I understand and respect people’s decision to adopt, but how can anyone give up their babies? That would be my source of pain—rejection. That’s what Lil’s been struggling with all her life—the misunderstanding that her father doesn’t love her and her mother. We make quite a pair, Lil and me and all our hidden baggage. We have much to get out in the open before next week when we’ll be married on the private island of Sidena. Damn it. The numbing effect from the first drink has already worn off. I need another one. One becomes two and two becomes three. Before you know it, I polished off the entire decanter and knock myself out cold.
Chapter 31
Lillian Ly
I have no idea what happened to Carson. He left about forty-five minutes ago to grab the wine he forgot and hasn’t returned. He won’t answer his phone or reply to any of my texts. I hate to be rude by leaving a party that Andrew and Stewart have worked so hard to put together for me, but I’m really concerned. Everyone’s here now, including his parents.
“Lillian, has Carson called back?” Kat asks for the second time.
“No, and I’m getting a little antsy about it. I might have to go check on him soon.”
“Maybe he’s caught up with a work emergency or something,” she excuses. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a big boy,” she kids, patting my shoulder.
“You’re probably right. I’m getting kind of tired myself. I might just head out early.” Bianca’s death news has wreaked havoc on my gut. I haven’t been able to eat a darn thing even though Andrew’s fruit and veggie spread looked and smelled delectable.
“Alright, dear. Have a good evening and give Carson my regards when you see him.”
“I will,” I tell Kat and apologize to Andrew and Stewart for ditching my party so early and for Carson’s disappearance. Of course, I offer them a lame excuse for him, telling them he probably had some kind of a work emergency like Kat suggested. They nod their heads understandingly and hug me graciously. How can I not love these two fantastic men? They even packed a to-go bag for Carson. The rest of the gang dubs my missing partner and me Mr. and Mrs. Party Killer as I tell them goodbye.
~~~~
The wine bottles are on the floor by the entrance when I walk through the front door. I find Carson passed out, on Luke’s chair of all places. He reeks of alcohol—badly. I’m pissed and disappointed because this isn’t the excuse I had in mind. “Carson,” I snap while tapping on his shoulder. “What happened to you?” His body squirms but he doesn’t respond. “Hey, wake up,” I raise my angry voice at him. Did he hear about Bianca’s suicide and drank his grief or guilt away?
“Uh…,” he groans, placing a hand over his mouth. He looks like he’s about to vomit. His face is ashen as his shoulders jerk forward repeatedly while he wrestles the sick sensation moving up and down his stomach.
I urge his body up to walk to the nearest bathroom around the corner. He’s a tall, sturdy man. I’m almost incapable of keeping him upright, but we make it there just in the nick of time. He hurls twice before he sits aside the toilet and continues to dry heave. For a change, he’s in the hot seat vomiting and not me.
“Better now?” I ask as I stroke my palm up and down his back.
He unbuttons his blazer and loosens his tie and tosses them aside. “Yes,” he answers, grabbing at his chest. “I’m sorry, babe,” he apologizes, appearing sincerely remorseful as his head turns sideways to look at me.
“Let’s talk after we clean you up,” I insist, setting aside my ruffled emotions.
He nods and rises onto his feet to follow me to the bedroom. I brace his shuddering body against the wall facing the shower and quickly undress him. He looks miserable. His eyes are sealed shut to steady his balance while his hands grip his head to control the spinning. “I ruined your evening,” he regrets and moans at the same time, reaching for my face blindly.
“No, you didn’t. I’m sure you have a good explanation,” I encourage, placing his hand down by his side. “We have all night to talk about it.”
Vomit and alcohol is probably the nastiest smell combination known to a pregnant woman. I gagged at least twice, inhaling a whiff of Carson’s dragon breath while cleaning him up in the shower. I give him one quick, cold rinse before making him step out. I need him to be alert so he won’t fall on the slick stone floor and take me down with him.
“Will you be fine while I find us something to wear?”
“Yeah. I’m going try to brush my teeth,” he tells me. I swear he can read my mind. Or did he notice my cringing expression in the shower?
As soon as he finished rinsing his mouth, I put him in a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt and help him into bed. He appears to be in better condition propped up against the headboard with two pillows. “Better?” I ask again, placing a soothing hand on his as I sit down next to him.
“Much. Thanks, babe.” He leans into the side of my neck and places a soft kiss there. My skin tingles on contact while my irritation fades away slowly.
“No problem. It’s payback for all the times you’ve had to endure my sick spells.” I grin. “Stay put. I’m going to make you something that’ll help your nausea.” Carson is going to get a taste of Jean’s delicious tea so he can understand the torture I go through every morning.
I come back from the kitchen with a steaming cup of black tea. The spicy aroma of ginger, mint and who knows what other ingredients doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s impossible for me to hide the wicked smile on my face as I bring it up to his lips. “Be careful. It’s very hot,” I caution him. “Sip very slowly until your taste buds can get used to the bitterness.”
His handsome face cringes in disgust. “Do I have to?” he whines and plugs his nose with his index finger and thumb. With all my might, I force back my blooming smile.
“Uh…yes. It’ll help your nausea,” I encourage him.
He listens to me and takes his first sip. “It’s not as bad as it smells,” he tells me and continues to sip some more.
“Really?” I ask disappointedly. “I think it’s disgusting and thought you’d be more sympathetic for me after you drank it.”
“Lil, I’m ashamed of you, taking advantage of me while I’m down,” he scold
s playfully. “I’d never do anything like that to you.”
“Cut the crap. Does it or doesn’t it taste gross?” I demand.
“It’s fucking awful. I don’t know how you can swallow this shit every morning,” he confesses, making me laugh hysterically.
“I knew it. You were faking it,” I accuse. “Now that we got that out of the way, can we discuss why you were drinking so heavily and missed an incredible party?” My tone turns serious. Carson doesn’t pull a stunt like this unless there’s a really good reason for it. He takes his responsibilities very seriously.
Running his fingers through his wet, wavy hair and exhaling a heavy sigh he agrees to tell me what happened. “I recently asked Owen to dig into Wesley Montgomery’s background because truthfully, I don’t trust him.” My heart skips a beat. I think I know where this is heading. “Owen called me as I was leaving for Andrew’s place.”
“And…what did he say?” I interrupt, asking impatiently.
“You seem rather anxious, Lil,” he tells me with suspicious eyes. “Didn’t you run into him and Bridgette yesterday?”
Oh great. Now it’s about me.
“I did, but you were about to tell me what Owen discovered,” I remind him to stay on his path.
“He told me Wes has a twin brother and his mother is Francine Manns,” Carson rattles factually with no emotions while watching me carefully, waiting for my reaction. I’m immobile and speechless. What am I supposed to say or do? “Why didn’t you tell me, Lil?” He finally breaks down. His eyes fall disappointedly on top of our hands. He thinks that I’ve betrayed him by not telling him. My feelings are shattered.
“I…wanted to, but I…didn’t know how,” I trip over my words. “How do you tell someone they’re adopted when their life is perfect just the way it is?”
“I’m not just someone, Lil. I’m going to be your husband, the father of our babies. You should always be honest with me even if the truth is ugly.”
“Honest? Like the tracker you have on me,” I accuse, frowning at him. He brought this on himself. I wasn’t going to mention it, but he wants us to be honest.
“I had no choice. It was for your safety and thank God I did it or else you’d be…,” he pauses, not wanting to revisit that horrific possibility. “I’m sorry, but I don’t regret doing it,” he confesses.
“Where is it?” I ask.
He lifts my right arm up and looks at my wrist. It’s the silver bracelet he gave me. “Do you want to know what my nightmares were about?” he asks. I nod as my eyes lock on the shimmering reflection of the bangle. “You were trapped in a hole with no way out, ironically. I could hear you cry for help, but I couldn’t find or see you. Do you know how terrifying that was for me when it came true? Losing you is the one thing I can’t bear. I’d sacrifice thousands of lives to keep you safe with me. I’m not ashamed to admit that to you. I would’ve given them whatever they wanted if it came down to you or the drug.”
“Carson, I’m not angry with you. I’m grateful you love me so much. I’ll never take this bracelet off. I swear.” I fall into his chest and wrap my arms around his torso. “I’m alive because of you,” I whimper into his heart. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Wes. I was stunned with the news myself.”
“So it’s true. He’s my twin brother and Francine is my birth mother,” he confirms. He’s staggered like he just collided into a brick wall.
“Yes. I know why you have that scar on your left hip now. Francine told Wes you two were joined at birth by a thin layer of skin.”
“Did he tell you why she gave up her babies?” he pries, appearing wounded and bitter. I understand where he’s coming from. I’ve had the same kind of resentment for my father until Bridgette explained his circumstance.
“Your birth father died two months after you and Wes were born. Francine was left with debts, an enormous farm with no help or money. She wanted a better future for her sons,” I explain, hoping it’d ease his heavy heart.
“How’s she doing?” he mutters softly.
“I didn’t get to see her, but both Bridgette and Jane mentioned she’s in a lot of pain. Francine won’t ask for your help because she doesn’t want to ruin what you have with your parents. She’d rather suffer and die than take away your happiness.” My words hit him hard. His mind is trapped in piercing thoughts while his eyes fill with tears, but he doesn’t cry. In silence, I lay my head on his chest and listen to his shallow breathing, ready to offer him my support whenever he’s ready to share his heartache.
Carson Bradley
The rumbling in my head foiled my many attempts to fall asleep with Lil. How could I sleep after inheriting an entirely new family I never knew existed? I ended up in my office, reviewing Francine’s medical history even more thoroughly than the day before. It looks like I have Wes and two other grown siblings. She’s been battling with cancer for about eleven years, off and on, and is now at the end of her rope. I know what I must do, even though she won’t ask me for help. I’m indebted to her for giving me life and for giving me up for a better life. Indirectly, my success and happiness are the results of her noble sacrifice. Though I’ll always love my parents first, I won’t deny my birth mother her child’s affection, especially when her time with me is limited.
Around 1:00 a.m. I finally crawled back into bed and wrapped my body around Lil. My mind rattled off hundreds of drug names as I laid there figuring out which one would work best for Francine’s case. The only obvious choice for her is Oss-meta which hasn’t been tested on humans and hasn’t been legally approved for use. Her MRI scan showed severe bone depletion in her thoracic spine. An injection of Oss-meta directly into that area would encourage regrowth within two weeks. The destination wedding I have planned for Lil and me will have to be postponed. Sacrifice equals love, I remind myself.
After tossing and turning and disrupting Lil’s peaceful sleep for several hours, I gave up. The morning lights were barely visible outside our expansive bedroom windows when I left Lil in bed to go to BPC. I drove the Bugatti for the second time since Owen had it delivered to my penthouse. Traffic was pleasantly sparse as I cut through the lifting dusk. My laden mind was momentarily liberated as I enjoyed the rush of speeding. Why I don’t do this more often is such a shame. This should be a perk for the many years I’ve invested in the research and development of cancer drugs. I pulled the car into my reserved spot and hustled directly to the lab instead of my office. I have no intention of giving up until I figure out a solution for Francine and Gabriel. God is the only one who can cure them, but I will try my hardest to prolong their life until He decides either way.
I locked myself in the testing area until almost noon with Jean and my entire crew, going through all the experimental protocols and results. Admirably, David and Paul refused to take any time off, even after I firmly insisted. They wanted to contribute as much as they could to get the drug out sooner to the public. Every day that it sits in a lab instead of a pharmacy, countless people are dying. This knowledge is what drives us to persevere with our hearts. David picked up a vital piece of information from one of Montgomery’s lab researchers that allowed us to verify its efficacy on humans. This was the breakthrough I was hoping for. We all agreed unanimously that it would be safe to offer it to a few volunteers. I had two in mind already.
~~~~
“Mr. Bradley, your parents will meet you at Marietta at 1:45 p.m. as you’ve requested,” Evelyn confirms via the speakerphone in the lab. “Miss Ly also stopped by, but left as soon as I told her you were working in the research room.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Did she leave a message?” I ask, wondering why Lil would come by unannounced.
“She didn’t want me to interrupt you,” Evelyn explains.
“You should’ve anyway,” I snip. “In the future, always call me if it’s Miss Ly,” I instruct, hating the fact that Lil was in the same building and I didn’t get to see or touch her.
“Yes, sir,” she replies timidly. �
��I believe she had a small package for you. She stepped into your office for a brief minute before leaving.”
“I’ll be up there in a few. Thank you.” I disconnect the call and face five pairs of prying eyes with ridiculous smirks on their faces.
“Someone has a bad case of love fever,” Jean kids, urging everyone to chuckle.
“I know the remedy for that,” David volunteers, breaking free out of his coy turtle shell.
“What do you know about that? Your first love is a bonsai plant,” Samantha mocks playfully.
“And your point, Sam? I was really worried it wouldn’t survive without me,” he jokes. “Ask Paul.”
“It’s true. He couldn’t stop talking about the damn thing,” Paul corroborates, rolling his eyes.
“David has a reason for his bonsai obsession,” I insist. “It was the ingenious location for his cryptic clue for us,” I share openly with everyone.
“That’s clever, David,” Alex compliments with a pat on his back.
“It certainly was,” I agree. “I hate to break up the fun, but I have a lunch appointment I can’t miss. However, before I leave, I want to thank each of you for all your dedication to BPC. We’ve become almost like family in this isolated area, working countless hours because we believe in what we do. There’s no doubt in my mind that your commitment is sincere. It’s apparent that this is more than a job to each of you. I’m very honored to have such extraordinary colleagues.”
They all stare at me stunned after my singular praising speech. In the past, my appreciation for them has always been presented in the form of monetary amounts and an impersonal card. Surprisingly, this little gesture of gratitude means much more to them than any bonuses I’ve ever given. It’s evident that money can’t buy everything.