Tainted by Love

by Jones, Gillian

  “I love you, Hendrix Hills. So much it hurts.”

  “You too, baby. For as long as you’ll have me,” he whispers, his voice gruff with emotion as he buries his face into my neck.

  “So, you love him then, I’d say, eh?” Mia cries, and the table erupts with applause, laughter, cheers and toasts as Hendrix and I kiss.

  We spend the rest of the night celebrating not only Christmas with our family, but also our engagement. It’s a night I’ll never forget, and once again, it’s Hendrix who’s responsible for the crazy amount of happiness I’m feeling.

  The best thing I ever did was give in to his relentless demands and allow us to be friends—and more. Not that I’d never admit that to him, of course.

  50

  Trinity

  It’s been a month since Hendrix and I got engaged, a month since he officially moved in, and two weeks since Kara and Arran returned to England. They were reluctant to leave, and are actually in discussions to possibly move back. I know that both Hendrix and I would love that. With the wedding, I think Kara would enjoy being back in Canada where she can be a part of all the planning and fussing along with Tillie and Dex, but she’s eagerly awaiting their next visit and will be here with Arran on the big day.

  It was such a great holiday season. I had been worried for a bit that I’d never be able to move on, never get past my feelings of loss over Andrea and the feeling of betrayal I’d felt from Blake. Thankfully, with my family, friends and Hendrix, I’ve persevered and am the happiest I’ve been in a really long time. Who would have thought my life could have turned into this? Certainly not the girl who sat alone in her apartment in Toronto two-and-a-half years ago, that’s for sure. It’s crazy how, just when you think life has thrown you the biggest—and I mean the most humongous—lemons, you somehow manage to turn them into the sweetest and most amazing-tasting lemonade. I thought that with HIV I’d never feel true happiness again, that I’d never be anyone’s happily ever after. But I do, and I am. I’ve never been so thankful to be proven wrong. And the best part? It’s only the beginning.

  “You need a hand with the chopping?” Hendrix asks behind me, his warm hands gripping my waist. His fresh scent envelops me while the heat from his body entices me to beg him to take me back to bed instead of cooking supper for company. Shannon and Cannon are coming over tonight. They’re our first official dinner guests since Hendrix moved in.

  “Thanks, but I’m almost done,” I tell him, looking down at the last red pepper, the one I’m adding to the veggie appetizer tray I just made.

  Today is Hendrix’s thirtieth birthday, and he wanted a low-key dinner, just the four of us. I really wanted to throw him a big party but with the holidays, entertaining his family while they were here and working extra hours at the shop, I’ve been a bit more tired than normal. Hendrix keeps insisting I need to go to the doctor and I keep telling him to relax. Besides, I have an appointment booked for the twenty-eighth, anyway.

  “Alright,” he says, kissing the back of my neck before resting his hand there. Standing at my side, he starts placing the peppers in the veggie tray. “How are you feeling tonight, Trin?” he says, eyeing me skeptically.

  “I’m fine. Please stop fussing. I’d tell you if anything were wrong other than just being tired. It’ll pass, now that things have settled. If I was worried, I’d go in. I swear.” I place the knife on the chopping block. “Now, can you make sure the fridge is stocked with beer and pour that bottle of red in the decanter, please? They’ll be here soon.” I nod to the counter, where the twelve-pack of Stella and the bottle of red I bought are sitting.

  “Yes, Fruitloop. Whatever you need me to do.” He taps my ass, making his way over to the fridge with the beer. Watching him move easily around the kitchen makes me smile. Of course, he catches me lurking, and in return blesses me with that breath-hitching smirk of his. “Not my fault I love you too much, you know,” he says, scowling when he’s done.

  I can’t help but laugh at how sweet my ogre really is. “I know. I feel the same way.”

  “Then you get me. You feel like shit, you tell me, Fruitloop. No bullshit.”

  “No bullshit, I promise. I’m just tired and my tummy’s been a little queasy, but that’s it. I’m feeling great, now.”

  “Okay. But when they get here, you’re to relax. I got dinner covered. You prepped, I’ll serve and clean up.”

  “Like I’d say no to an offer like that. Pshaw…know me much?” I laugh.

  “It’s okay. I know how you can pay me back. And the good thing about my payback methods? You can be as tired as you want, all I need is your mouth,” he chuckles, tweaking my hip as he passes by to grab the wine.

  “You wish, sick boy. It’s my mouth that’s the most tired,” I tease, reaching over and smacking his ass in turn.

  “I got the cure right here,” he says, gripping his junk. “A shot of this and you’ll be feeling like a million bucks.”

  “God, you’re impossible,” I giggle. How ridiculous he is sometimes, the shit that comes out of his mouth…

  “It’s ‘Hendrix’, but yeah…I kinda am godlike, aren’t I?” He stands in front of me, posing. “At least in stature and the goods,” he chuckles, running his hand down his body, ending at his groin.

  “Can’t you ever keep your hands off your compressor? See? Impossible. How do I even deal with you?” I joke, and he moves back over to his side of the kitchen.

  “You’re already too far-gone. It’s too late for the likes of you; you already love me.” He winks from where he’s just finished decanting the wine.

  “I sure do. And what’s my reward for tolerating you, exactly?” I say, opening the fridge for some ginger ale.

  “The best friendship we’ve both ever had?” he says, handing me a glass.

  “Debatable.” I cock my head and smile before taking a sip.

  We spend the next half hour bantering and getting ready for Shannon and Cannon.

  I will secretly admit it. He’s not only my best friendship; he’s my best decision…even if he is utterly impossible.

  51

  Hendrix

  “Pass the salad, please, Hendrix?”

  We should have cancelled. I should have cancelled this stupid dinner. I know it’s my birthday and it’s a big deal to Trin, but I could give a shit. I see Cannon at work almost everyday now that he’s working for me, so it’s really not critical to have to celebrate it tonight. I know she’s not feeling well; I can see it in her eyes. There’s a cloud lurking amidst the warmth I’ve come to expect. She says she’s okay but she’s just drinking ginger ale, and that alone tells me she’s still feeling queasy. My girl always drinks wine with Shannon.

  “Hendrix?” Shannon’s impatient voice cuts through my thoughts.

  “Oh, shit. Sorry?”

  “Salad. Can you please pass it?”

  “Yeah, sure. Here you go,” I say, picking up the bowl of Caesar salad and passing it to her. “I was just thinking about a carburetor I have to remember to order on Monday,” I lie.

  “Always thinking about work, eh? Things never change,” Cannon jokes. “Even when he’s got a girl, the man can’t relax.” I want to kick him, but he’s too far away. In reality, now all that I think about is her. Work can wait for working hours. When I’m off, Trin is where my focus is.

  “Shut up. I just don’t wanna forget about it, dickless. I’m a responsible business owner now, and the story you were just boring us with about the paint job you’re doing on that ’74 Cobra II reminded me.”

  “Whatever,” he says, taking a pull from his beer. “Pass the spaghetti, fuckface? By the way, it’s really good, Trin,” Cannon says, smiling graciously at Trinity, who’s been somewhat quiet the last few minutes. I want to ask Shannon and Cannon to leave, but I know Trin would disown me.

  “By the way, guys, did you see that the office space beside my salon is empty? They’re looking to lease it. I’m considering expanding Moxie,” Shannon tells us, pride colouring her tone,
a feeling I can relate to being a business owner myself.

  Cannon reaches over and grabs her hand. “I think it’s an awesome idea,” he says. I’ve never seen Cannon this far-gone over a chick before—especially one he met at a bar—but, then again, Shannon isn’t like most of the girls he’s dated before. She’s independent, smart, and pretty. She’s definitely girlfriend-material, and I’m glad he’s finally taking a swim in the relationship pool like I am. He’s a good guy and deserves to find with Shannon what I’ve found in Trin.

  “Wow, that’ll be amazing,” Trinity says excitedly, her face seemingly a little less pale than a few minutes ago. “Let me know if I can help.”

  “Thanks, I will. The sign just went up last night. Who knows? I might be getting ahead of myself. My biggest obstacle will be to see if I can get the loan,” Shannon sighs.

  “I should give you my guy’s name, he was great. He’s over at the Scotiabank on Green Road,” I offer.

  “That would be amazing,” Shannon beams, “thank you.”

  “Of course. Any way I can help, call me. I’m there,” I tell her, before taking a bite of my pasta.

  “Damn it.” Trin stands. “I forgot the garlic bread. Save room. I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll get it.” I stand, but she shushes me.

  “I’m already up, don’t be silly,” she says, walking away before I can argue.

  “What kind of overhead do you have with a salon, anyway?” I ask Shannon, curious.

  “It’s not too bad, really. The fact that I rent chairs to stylists really helps. They pay rent for their spaces and have their own client—” She’s interrupted by Trin.

  “Here we go! Hot and fresh garrrr—” She doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead, the colour leaves her face. Her eyes suddenly roll back and she falls like a felled tree, banging her head off the laminate with a loud clunk as she lands, the pan and the garlic bread spinning greasily across the floor.

  “Trinity!” I bolt out of my seat, my heart racing with adrenaline as I crouch beside her.

  “Trin!” Shannon calls, moving over to where Trin’s lying. “What can I do?” she asks, starting to cry.

  “I’m on with 911,” Cannon says hollowly.

  I check her vitals as best I can. I make sure her airway is open, check for breathing and a pulse. Thankfully, Frank, our old boss at Wheel Wizards, had insisted that we all take First Aid and CPR training. After checking her over, I prop her feet on a cushion above her head level to prevent shock, while hoping she’ll soon come to. I keep calling her name and talking to her to see if she’ll come around. “Trinity! Trinity. Trinity…”

  I’m not sure how much time passes, but it seems like mere seconds before the paramedics are knocking and rolling a stretcher through the door, carrying all their bags and knapsacks. Just as they are entering along with a draught of winter air, Trinity flutters her eyelids and regains consciousness. She’s disorientated and confused, but at least she’s awake. I step back to give them room, and bite back tears as I see the EMS guy strap a blood pressure cuff around her upper arm and start squeezing its bulb. He places his stethoscope on the inside of her elbow. The other is hooking up electrodes to her chest, her shirt now mostly unbuttoned and her pretty bra exposed. All I hear at first is the one medic talking into his radio saying something about “syncope”.

  “Anything we need to be aware of before we examine her? Medications, illnesses or recent injuries? That sort of stuff?” the shorter dark-haired paramedic asks, kneeling on the floor beside Trin. Blue vinyl covers his hands; he holds a pen ready to write my answers on his glove.

  “She takes…Atripla, once a day. Trin is…she’s, she has…” I can’t finish. My tongue feels like sandpaper at having to say it out loud. As if telling another person is breaking some kind of secret code between Trin and I. As if saying it to this stranger will somehow make her HIV stronger. I refuse to let that happen.

  “She’s HIV-positive,” Shannon says, resting her hand on my shoulder. Silently, I look up at her and nod a thank you.

  “She’s what?” I hear Cannon say in the background, but I could give a fuck. He can be pissed if he wants; it’s none of his business. I know we’re best friends and maybe I should have told him, but I didn’t, because it doesn’t matter to me. I love her regardless, and him knowing wouldn’t have changed anything. Trinity was actually going to bring it up tonight, since she’s gotten to know Cannon a lot better over the last few months and is feeling much more comfortable with him. She was surprised I hadn’t told him already, but thanked me for keeping it private.

  “Thank you. Let’s check her vitals, blood sugar, and heart rate. Then we’ll know more,” the tall blonde medic says.

  “Hi, Trinity,” says the other one. “I’m Steve. It seems you had a little fall. My buddy Patrick and I are going to make sure you’re okay, and then we’re going for a ride to the hospital,” he says, offering her a friendly reassuring smile.

  Her eyes dart all around until they land on me, then relief crosses her face. “I’m here, baby. Right here with you.”

  “Hendrix,” she says, almost inaudibly, her voice sounding tired and weak. I know what she’s thinking, and I need to push the thoughts out of both our minds.

  “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll be with you every second. The doctors and these guys will figure it all out. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay? Just relax,” I say, more convincingly than I’m feeling. I watch with bated breath as the paramedics finish their work and lift Trin onto the gurney. My heart lurches in my chest. I feel it pounding full-blast, and there’s a ringing in my ears. My knees feel weak, and I feel like I might pass out myself.

  “Cannon and I will meet you guys at the hospital, Hendrix. I’m going to call Dex and Tillie.”

  I hear Shannon, but don’t give her an answer; I’m too numb. I only want confirmation that Trinity is all right. Thoughts of losing her plague my mind as I stumble behind the stretcher as the paramedics carry her out. I climb into the ambulance and all I can think of is that I’m going to lose her when I haven’t had her nearly long enough. Not even close.

  52

  Hendrix

  “Hendrix, please. I’m fine. I feel much better,” Trinity calls softly from her stretcher in the Emergency Room. I’m patrolling up and down the white-tiled linoleum, waiting for the doctor. Despite my best efforts, my hands are shaking and my mind is reeling. I’m about to lose it.

  “Come, sit down. You need to calm down. Everything will be good. I feel good,” Trinity says, using a soothing voice. Unfortunately, it does shit to stop this sinking feeling from taking over my gut, even though she does look a bit better.

  “I can’t, Fruitloop.” I stop and look at her. She scared the ever-living fuck out of me tonight. When I saw her go down, I literally felt my heart stop, drop and crumble at my feet.

  “Baby, please…”

  “Why aren’t they back with the results yet?” I ask, shaking my head and ignoring her plea. I resume my watch in the small space where they have Trinity resting while waiting for her blood test results. Results I’m trying to prepare myself for.

  A million thoughts and a billion worst-case scenarios run rampant through my mind despite Trin’s attempts at calming me down. I can’t seem to shake the doubts that are taking root. What if her viral count is high? What if she’s caught tuberculosis or some other virus that’s making her immune system react? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I run my hands down my face while glancing out the window and up at the stars. I’m wishing on something, praying to someone I’m not even sure I even believe in to fix this, to make it right, to make sure she’s healthy.

  “Hendrix. Stop. You’re not helping me right now. You’re kind of making me freak out, to be honest. I need my rock.” I hear Trin’s voice waver and it stops me in my tracks.

  “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m—” I pause. “I’m scared, baby.” I move closer to the bed, where I should have been the whole time.

  “
Me too, but there’s no sense worrying until we know, right?”

  “Right.” I grip the bed rails, begging for the strength to compose myself. I’m being a selfish prick right now. I gotta be strong for my girl, keep her from worrying. I can freak out later. “You’re right. Okay, no more negative thoughts. Everything’s gonna be fine,” I smile, and give her what I hope is a reassuring nod.

  “That’s my ogre. Now come lay with me. It’s been a long night, and I could use a cuddle,” Trinity says, giving me a sweet smile as she shifts over on the narrow bed, her hand gently tapping the space beside her. Suddenly, there’s a motion at the curtain.

  “Hello. Can I come in?”

  “Y—yes,” Trinity replies, reaching for my hand. I squeeze it, letting her know we’re going to be all right before taking a seat in the chair beside her.

  “It’s going to be fine, baby. I have a good feeling.” I kiss her hand, while silently pleading on the inside. Please, don’t pull the rug out from under our happiness. I’m not ready…

  53

  Trinity

  “Hi, Trinity. I’m Dr. Carmen Gallegan,” the tall grey-haired woman says with a quick smile, taking a seat on the black stool.

  “Hello,” I say back, then motion to Hendrix. “This is my fiancé, Hendrix Hills.” Hendrix nods before standing to shake the doctor’s outstretched hand.

  “Good to meet you, Doctor Gallegan. Please tell us you have some test results?” Hendrix says, letting out a long breath, and it pains me to see him like this. I know he’s worried and I loathe knowing he’s feeling this way because of me. This situation is a blatant reminder of what our future could hold for him, and sooner rather than later if we get bad news today.

  “I’ll get to that. I have a few questions first,” she says, looking down at her iPad. “From what I understand, you had a bit of a scare tonight. Can you tell me what happened?”