by Dori Lavelle
My hand went to my throat. “Oh my God, that’s terrible.”
Of course my heart went out to the woman; I had gone through the same ordeal. But it all made sense now.
Alvin had lied. He had made it sound as though he had contracted HIV in the womb, but he had already been born when she was raped. His plan all along had been to mess with my already fragmented mind, to terrify me.
“Do you know who took care of Alvin after her death?”
“His mother’s employer adopted him. He’s also the one who covered Alvin’s mother’s medical bills.”
“Is he still alive?” I picked up a hotel pen and notepad. It would only be fair to inform him of Alvin’s death.
“I’m afraid not. He died five years ago.”
I dropped the pen and puffed out a breath. “Okay. Lester, thank you so much for everything.”
“That’s what you paid me for. I only wish I had been able to warn you about Alvin Jones before he kidnapped you.”
“Don’t worry about that. I survived. That’s all that matters now.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
My short run from the car to the front door left me soaked to the bone. The black lace knee-length dress I had worn to Miles’s funeral now clung to my skin.
As I turned the key in the lock, I couldn’t feel my hands, couldn’t feel any part of my body. Not from the cold, rainy weather, but from the emptiness, the chill left behind by Miles’s death. The chill that had followed me since I’d left Jamaica. Even though Owen warmed the center of my heart, Miles’s death left a film of un-melting ice on the surface. The chill in my body had only intensified as I’d watched Miles’s coffin sink into the ground fifteen minutes ago.
As shovelfuls of earth hit the top of the coffin, I’d struggled to breathe. After my silent goodbye, once the coffin was no longer visible, the walls around my emotions crumbled. He had not been my soulmate—I knew that now—but I still wanted him in the world. I missed him with a mind-numbing intensity. I needed to feel his presence one last time, to spend a moment alone with him.
The next thing I knew, I was pushing through the throngs of guests and jumping into my car. How I managed to drive myself in my broken state without ending up in an accident was beyond me. Somehow I made it to the house in one piece.
The air inside the place I used to call home was cold and sharp, relentlessly slicing into my unhealed wounds. I had to force myself to breathe through my mouth as I moved into the front hall and closed the door behind me. Miles’s body was at the cemetery, but surely his spirit had to be in this place we had shared, where we had made so many happy memories in the short time we were together.
With water dripping from the hem of my dress onto marble, wood, and carpet, I tore up the stairs and burst into the bedroom—our bedroom. I didn’t stop to look at the bed we’d made love in, or the photos of us on dressers and hanging from the walls. There was only one place I wanted to be right now, the place I hoped still held traces of him.
As soon as I walked into his closet, his cologne swirled around me, drawing me close, hugging me. A shiver of pain ripped through me.
For a moment, I stopped in the doorway and closed my eyes, breathed him in. Fresh tears trailed down my cheeks. Behind my eyelids, I fooled myself into believing he was present, standing right there in front of me. I watched him stride into the closet, pick out something to wear, his brow furrowed, just as he had done the morning he’d walked out of the house, never to return. His scent used to calm me once; it made me feel safe, loved. Now it tore me apart. It shredded my heart into even smaller pieces, and ground those pieces into a powder.
I swiped away my tears with the back of my hand and opened my eyes.
The dim light bounced off the mirrored furniture and shelf details. It made my sore eyes ache. But I couldn’t close them again; I needed to see the things he’d seen before he died. I needed to see everything in its place before it was packed up.
I pulled out one of the deep drawers, the one that hid his dirty laundry so well. Two shirts lay crumpled at the bottom, never to be worn again: one crimson, one Persian blue. I pulled out the blue one and held it up to my nose. I searched for more than the scent of his cologne this time. I wanted to smell him—his skin, his sweat, his essence. I found it in the collar, in the armpits—faint but detectable, enough for me to wallow in. Enough to bring him closer even as he drifted away.
I sank to the floor, the shirt still pressed to my face. My eyes flooded with tears, and my heart spilled over as I remembered the last time he’d worn it. The night he had cooked dinner for my mom and me, the night he’d walked away from the table with no explanation. I should have known then; I should have seen the signs, should have read between the pauses in his words. I should have listened to the rhythm of his breathing. I should have discovered his pain earlier, the secrets he’d buried so deep.
I should have helped him.
Now it was too late, and all I had of him was the scent he left behind. That, too, would fade with time.
“I’m sorry, Miles,” I said through my sobs. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. I loved you and I’ll never forget you.” I gulped in air. “Thank you for sharing the best part of you with me for a while. I hope you find peace on the other side.” The shirt dropped from my hands and onto my lap. “Goodbye, Miles Durant.”
Before I left the closet, I took both of Miles’s shirts with me. I tossed it, along with a pile of my clothes, into a suitcase and slammed it shut.
Maybe one day I would wake up and not think about the life we’d shared, about the things I did and didn’t do. Maybe one day I would close my eyes and not see Miles’s face smiling back at me, only to be poisoned by the sight of Alvin’s murderous grin.
Maybe one day.
I dragged the suitcase down the stairs. I would return for the rest of my belongings another day.
The front door flew open before I had a chance to reach it. Owen burst into the house, followed by flashing lights and shouted questions from a sea of reporters behind him. He still wore the same black suit he’d worn at the funeral, but his tie was loose, his hair damp and unruly from the rain.
“You don’t have to talk to them,” he said, drawing me to him. “Come on, I’ll drive you back to the hotel.” He took the suitcase from me and gripped my hand protectively, just as he had done many times in Jamaica.
He moved me toward the door, ready to tear through the crowds with me by his side. He wanted to protect me, but it was too late for that. The reporters would not quit. The questions would follow me until I answered them. The sooner I faced them, the sooner I could start moving on.
When we got to the bottom of the front steps, I pushed my damp hair from my eyes and brought Owen to a halt with me. “It’s okay. I’ll answer their questions.”
“Miss Parker, is it true that Miles Durant was actually Alvin Jones, the boy you tried to kill when you were teenagers?”
“Did he really rape and torture you on his private yacht?”
“Is your name really Kelly Pearson? Did you lie to everyone about your true identity?”
I detached myself from Owen and bent my head to speak into the closest microphone. “Yes. Yes, it’s true. All of it.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I rose from my leather chair and looked at my employees assembled in front of me. As I stood there, I assumed I looked as confident as I always had, but I didn’t feel it—not by a long shot.
The funeral was two days ago, and now they knew everything: everything I had done, everything I had gone through. My deepest, darkest secrets.
Did they even have an ounce of respect left for me? How did they feel about the hypocrite who unveiled other people’s secrets while hiding her own, and for so long?
But today was not the day for me to worry about that. I had come to the Sage offices for one purpose only: to announce the decision I had made about the company.
“I’m so happy to see all of you.” The lump inside my t
hroat expanded with each second, and I swallowed, wishing I had a glass of water.
I prayed I would be able to finish my speech without breaking down. They looked up at me expectantly, shock shadowing most of their faces and swimming in their eyes. “You kept Sage afloat while I was... away. I appreciate you for that. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here. As most of you know, the past few weeks were extremely hard for me.”
“It wasn’t the same here without you.” Jolene looked up from her notepad. “I’m sure I speak for everybody when I say it’s good to have you back. We all prayed for your safe return. We’re sorry for your loss, and for what happened to you.”
A murmur of voices suddenly filled the room as everyone agreed with her. It seemed they had all been waiting for someone to start with the condolences so they could all chime in. Before I could go on, several people got up and came over to hug me.
Despite my promise to myself to remain strong and unemotional, I couldn’t stop the tears from trickling down my cheeks.
Sitting alone in the dungeon, on the Vendetta, I’d thought I would come back to a staff that had turned their backs on me. I’d expected to return to the office to find my desk littered with notices as my employees abandoned ship.
When everybody was settled in their seats again, I wiped away the tears, pulled myself together, and continued with my speech. It was time to deliver the bad news. “After everything that has happened, I’m sure you understand that I’ve had to make some difficult decisions. I’m afraid one of those decisions has to do with Sage. It’s the most difficult one of all.” I took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the polished table. “It hurts me deeply to tell you that I’m selling the magazine.”
Even though nobody had said a word while I spoke, another level of quiet fell over the room.
Everyone remained seated, gazing up at me, as though expecting me to say I was joking. But I had thought long and hard about my decision. It had to be done. I had to move on from the person I used to be, to pursue a better version of myself. I had learned the hard way what an impact the stories I published had on people.
Although I had thrown endless hours and money into my company, and it tore me apart to walk away, I couldn’t deny the relief at the thought of walking past a newsstand or into a bookstore and not feeling guilty about a story I had published.
After my speech, no eye in the room was dry. My team shared their sadness at my departure from Sage. But they understood my reasons for selling, and they supported me.
I also announced to them that after the dust had settled, I planned on opening up a publishing company that specialized in publishing memoirs.
“You’ll all be welcome with open arms, should you like to join me there. Think about it and let me know.”
I had no doubt many of them would stay with Sage, and whoever ended up owning it. Their passion for their work would be hard to extinguish. Most thrived on the adrenaline rush that came with an explosive story. I was prepared to start from scratch and find a team that shared my new vision.
After the meeting, Jolene came to my office.
“You can’t leave without me.” She smiled. “I’m in.”
I embraced her, blinking away tears. “Are you serious? You want to come with me?”
She hugged me tighter and then let go. “Working for you has been the best experience of my life. I’m not ready to give that up yet.”
I squeezed her shoulders. “The feeling is mutual, Jolene. Thank you.” I almost burst at the seams with the joy of having my first employee. The best of them all.
After catching up on a lot of paperwork and emails, and calling people who might be interested in purchasing Sage, I stepped out of the office building. I walked straight into the arms of the paparazzi.
I closed my eyes briefly and put on a brave smile.
I could face them now, just as I had following Miles’s funeral.
In a few words, I answered their questions about Miles, Alvin, and the future of Sage. No point in keeping any part of my life hidden any longer. My new policy going forward was honesty.
I climbed into my car, and they moved on.
On my way to meet the realtor who was going to show me a house that interested me, my phone rang.
“Is this Miss Parker?”
“Yes, it’s me. How may I help you?” I expected another reporter needing answers to burning questions.
“Miss Parker, I’m Lauren Bigley, Mr. Durant’s lawyer. I need to speak with you.”
I canceled my house viewing and went straight to her office in the center of town, my heart racing. She wouldn’t say over the phone what she wanted to discuss.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“There has to be some mistake,” I said to Lauren Bigley, a petite woman in her late thirties. She was dressed in a grey knee-length pencil skirt and a tucked-in white blouse.
“There’s no mistake here.” She looked down at the papers on her desk. “Before Mr. Durant left town, he amended his will. In the event of his death, he wished for his entire estate to be transferred to you. That includes his shares in Torp Inc.”
“I see.” What more could I possibly say? The news was shocking, and left me wondering whether Miles had known what Alvin planned to do to me on his yacht.
Had he known he would commit suicide in order to save me? Or had he just had his will changed as he knew I was about to become his wife? Either way, inheriting his riches would make me one of the wealthiest women in the world. It would take time for me to wrap my head around that.
Material wealth had been extremely important to me when I’d started my business. I’d wanted to earn as much money as I possibly could, to afford myself an extravagant lifestyle. But the last couple of weeks had changed me. I had discovered that while money was important for a comfortable life, it couldn’t compete with health, love, and peace of mind.
On the other hand, more money than I already had would enable me to do more good—perhaps to finish the work Miles had started. He would want me to do that.
“Are you alright, Ms. Parker?”
I nodded and took a sip of my water. “I’m great, thanks. What do you need me to do?”
“There’s a lot of paperwork to be completed, but if there are no complications and no one decides to contest the will, everything should go pretty smoothly.”
Lauren discussed a few more things with me, and then we shook hands.
I was still dazed when I left.
I couldn’t take my car. I’d never be able to focus enough to drive myself safely. I spent ten minutes walking down the street, gazing into shop windows but seeing nothing, and then I pulled out my phone and called a taxi. I’d get my car later. My mother was still in town and waiting for me at the hotel, but I couldn’t go there just yet.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I told her over the phone. “We can go out to dinner. Go and have a nice massage in the spa.”
“That sounds great, honey. My back is killing me. See you later.”
My next call was to Owen.
“Do you have time for me? I need to see you.”
“I always have time for you.” His deep voice sent a tingle down my spine. “Every part of me misses you. One part in particular.”
“Behave.” I shook my head, even as I moistened between the legs. “I’ll come to your place.”
Every time we met now, we ended up in bed. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t resist him. I planned to make love to him right after I told him my latest news, which I expected would shock him just as much as it had shocked me.
I was right.
“Damn, that’s some… Wow. That’s some news.” He rose from his kitchen island stool and stepped to the all-glass fridge. He pulled out a bottle of champagne. “I guess congratulations are in order.”
I tilted my head to the side. “I can’t believe you’re congratulating me.”
“Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I?” His strong, manly hands untwisted the wire cage on the bottle.
; I stood and went to him, removed the bottle from his hands, and placed it on the island.
I raised my hands to both sides of his face. “You’re not upset? You did hear that Miles left me his shares in Torp, right?”
“Yes, and...”
“Well, the company used to belong to both of you. It was an important part of your life once.”
His lips brushed mine. “It was, but now it’s safe in your hands. You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Thank you. You’re such a wonderful man.” I wrapped my arms around his midriff. “Miles left me so much… too much. I seriously don’t know what to do with it all.”
Owen placed a finger under my chin and met my gaze. “Nothing is too much for you. You deserve more.”
“You charmer.” I ruffled his hair. “Look, I did a lot of thinking on my way here. I don’t know yet what I’ll do with the money, but once everything is in my name, I want to sell his houses, and the island. As for my shares in Torp Inc., I want you to have them.”
Owen stiffened. His hand dropped from my chin. “What do you mean?”
“I’m giving the shares to you. You and Miles started the company. It’s only right that you take over.”
He looked at me for a long time without speaking. When he did, his voice was barely audible. “I... Chloe, I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s simple. Just say yes.”
“No, I can’t just take them. Not like that. At least let me buy them from you.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want. I’ll make you an offer.” I pulled away from him and went to get my purse from the table. I rummaged inside until I found a notepad and pen, then tore off a piece of paper. I jotted down a figure, folded the paper, and pressed it into Owen’s hand.
He laughed out loud and kissed my neck. “You silly, lovely woman. You can’t sell me shares worth billions for just a dollar.”
“I can do anything I want.” I grinned up at him. “It’s my last offer, Mr. Firmin. Take it or leave it.”