Complicated on 5th Avenue: 5th Avenue Romance Series, Book Two

by Abbie St. Claire

  It would be another four hours before he finally opened his eyes. This time, we were alone in his ICU room, since his parents had retired to the hotel.

  If this were my son, I’d never leave his side.

  Once fully awake and able to motion for communication, the team indicated all the signs were positive that he wouldn’t return to a coma, although he would sleep quite a bit and for me not to be alarmed.

  The long road to recovery began with cold eyes and emotionless stares.

  “Your parents are in town, but have gone to the hotel and will be here early tomorrow.”

  The hollowness of his eyes shadowed my hopes for a quick turnabout, so I tried to keep things light and positive. While I so wanted to tell him what a bitch his mother was to me, I bit my tongue and gripped my hands in a tight fist under the jacket in my lap for the sake of family. I remembered the law of the jungle quite well—never get between a mother and her male cub, you will lose every time. I’d learned that lesson very well when I divorced Carson. His mother and I were great friends until the day I filed for divorce.

  Ian reached out with his left hand and touched my hair. “Oli—.” Cough, cough.

  I gasped when I didn’t mean to. Even though he could barely speak, just the sound of his voice warmed me in every way.

  “He’s okay. The boys are staying with Denise, and Mam, Grumpa, Shawna and Jorge will be checking in.

  “Oli—” he growled again with such strain to speak.

  I touched his parched lips. “Shhh, don’t worry about him. He was upset at having to leave, but other than that, he’s doing really, really well. He told me he loved me.”

  Ian didn’t smile. He seemed to stare off into space somewhere above my head.

  I thought about the ring and the moment when he’d be able to finally ask me to wear it. I tried to keep the power of positive thoughts my focus. “I love you so much. The fear of losing you is something I never want to go through again.”

  Again, he stared off with wide eyes.

  The silence in the room was so thick it was as if I’d been locked in a walk-in freezer and left for good.

  There was a chill in his non-answer that left me more disturbed. What wasn’t he saying? Or could he not say anything at all?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ian ate the Jell-O I fed him and stared at the TV mounted high on the wall. While I tried to engage him in conversation, he avoided speaking or even making eye contact. I attempted to dismiss the questions in the back of my mind, but there was truly something wrong besides all the factors of his condition.

  Could Ian be avoiding me?

  When he drifted off to sleep, I began to text Shawna, Denise, and Isabella to let them know he’d regained consciousness, but he was unable to talk just yet. I knew Oliver would want to talk to his daddy the minute he was able to, but I didn’t know if they were home or still on the plane. And worse, I didn’t know if Ian would be able to talk, and if he couldn’t, would that send Oliver into a tailspin?

  Unfortunately, before I got that answer, there was an issue with another patient, and the ICU nurses asked me to return to the waiting room. So, when Oliver called a bit later, I had to disappoint him and tell him his dad would call just as soon as he could.

  Waiting wasn’t my strong suit, and mixed with unanswered questions, I resembled some form of a pacing wild animal stalking their prey. Minutes turned into hours and before I knew it, the sun was coming up for another day. One I prayed had good news.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and when I turned around, Barbara was standing beside me. “You can go to room 442. He was transferred up there just a few minutes ago.”

  The embrace was warm and inviting and something I’d expect from my mother. “Be patient with him. He’s got a long way to go, and he will test you, but hang in there and love will see you through,” she said before turning from me.

  Gathering my things, I ran around the corner and practically collided with a steel chest. Shit. Cary was holding a cup of coffee, and it spilled on both of us.

  “Don’t you ever look where you’re going?” His voice was gruff and impatient.

  Impatient…now I knew where Ian got it from.

  “I’m sorry. I got so excited that they transferred him to a room, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “What room?” Elisabeth asked with a tight face, one overdone with nips, tucks, and injectables.

  “Fourth floor, this wing. You can follow me.” Somehow, I didn’t think that woman was used to following anyone. She had the stature that resembled lots of mean girl experience on her résumé.

  “Why don’t you go to the hotel and rest, dear? Cary and I can take it from here.”

  Oh, the hell she did.

  “Actually, I’m hoping she will stick around. I’d like her to be present when we see his team this morning,” a familiar voice said behind me before an arm came around my shoulders.

  Turning towards him, I exclaimed, “Brooks,” before hugging him.

  God. He was sent from God to protect Ian from his horrid family.

  “Brooks, how are you, son?” Cary asked with an extended hand. “It’s been what…six years or so?”

  They hugged in a brotherly, one-armed fashion. “Something like that. Let’s go see him.”

  Ian didn’t speak when we entered the room, but I could see his gaze change with a bit of warmth because the lines were more visible at the corners of his eyes, as if he was trying to smile.

  When Ian’s doctors came by for rounds, they asked that Elizabeth and I step out. We stood, waiting on the same side of the hallway, avoiding communication or eye contact. Continually checking my watch, I fought the urge to pace. Almost two hours had passed before we were allowed back in.

  “Ian’s decided to return to California for additional surgeries and rehabilitation at UCLA,” Cary announced with pride-bearing bold shoulders.

  “What? No.” I turned to Ian, and the closest contact I could make with him was his feet. “You can’t leave Oliver. Dallas has fabulous medicine. You said so yourself many times. Besides, the best ortho team is your own.” If he left me, I’d lose him. I was sure of it.

  “Oh, he’s not leaving Oliver. Elizabeth will fly down and get him in a couple of days, once we have Ian settled.”

  I pushed my way to the front of the class and sat on the bed beside Ian. My fingers trailed the hollowness in his cheeks, his olive-toned flesh a pale gray. “Tell me this was your decision. It’s what you want. I have to hear it.”

  “Yeeeeeeeees.” His voice was barely a breathy pronunciation of the word. If he could hardly speak the word yes, how on earth did he make a decision to move back to California?

  Knowing him as well as I did, I sensed his betrayal. Something was seriously wrong with him he didn’t want me to know. Something he was hiding from me.

  Hands gripped my shoulders. Ready to fight for him, I yanked away, but quickly realized it was Brooks. “Let’s get some coffee, Chelsie.”

  Neither of us consumed even the slightest sip of our coffee as the minutes passed. “Tell me what no one else will,” I said with authority.

  I saw the depths of their friendship when the grown man took a deep breath to pause the quivering of his chin. “He doesn’t have any feeling in his legs or feet. His right arm and hand have so many fractures, the best we can hope for is some limited use of it. He will never perform surgery again.”

  “No. No, that’s not possible.” Emotions consumed me, and I didn’t care who was watching or listening.

  “Chelsie, UCLA has a fabulous neuro team. This is the right decision. It’s not about Cary and Elizabeth.”

  My face rested in my hands. “What about Oliver? He’s been doing so well since the move.”

  Brooks pulled my hands down and held my eyes with his. “Ian loves you, but you have to let him go, so that when the day comes, he can return to all of us when he’s able.”

  “When will he be transported?” I stood up, wanting to end t
he nightmare that had become my reality in such a few short minutes.

  “This afternoon. He’s going by plane, and it’s on the way here. Med-Evac staff are highly trained, and there will be a physician on board.”

  My feet took off without any guide, except my heart. Not waiting for the elevator, I took the stairs and flew into Ian’s room.

  “Please give us a few minutes.” My declaration was widespread and made no accounting as I made no eye contact, and, to be honest, I was unsure of who was even in the room.

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, I touched his face with both hands and forced him to look at me.

  “I found the ring when I was looking for your phone charger. I know you want us to be together, and I feel how much you love me.” My voice shook and emotions flooded from me, opening the dam of both passion and pain. “I want you to get better and come back to me, but this feels like goodbye.”

  He stared at me with an emptiness I’d never seen before, but a tear trickled down his face.

  What ripped me apart the most was seeing goodbye in his eyes.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ian

  How could I tell her I’d never again be the same man she fell in love with?

  Even in the best-case scenario, I’d never be able to hold her the way I’d become used to or make love to her in the style we both craved.

  I was but a broken shell of a man.

  As the crew loaded me into the ambulance, I watched as Chelsie dipped to her knees in sobs. If I wasn’t already physically trashed, the sight of her turned me to ghostly mush, and the sound of her cries wrecked me.

  I’d let her down.

  The flight was bumpy and caused more pain physically, but I tried to recall the beautiful blessings of the day when I first held Oliver. I’d never be able to throw the football to him or play street hockey or be the father he’d known and bragged about.

  I’d let him down.

  How was I going to explain having to move back to California and live with his grandparents he barely knew? A place where he’d failed to launch and had suffered needlessly at the hands of others. A place that held such painful memories for us both.

  I’d let him down.

  “Dr. Briggs, we’re landing soon. Can I get you anything?” the young, blonde nurse asked while taking my vitals.

  “No. But you can stop calling me doctor. I don’t need the reminder of what I’ll never be again.”

  Her smile was soft, and she parted her lips I’m certain to argue with me, but closed them again with a slight nod of agreement.

  I thought about all the years of school to become something I really didn’t want to be in the first place—a fourth generation surgeon. I wanted to spend my life surfing, sailing, and doing anything opposite of my father’s wishes, yet there I was, headed right back into his grasp and not a damn thing I could do about it. Worse, I was unable to care for myself and totally dependent on a family I despised.

  A decision I made consciously and with conviction.

  Chelsie deserved a whole man, love and life. She deserved more than I’d ever be able to give her. I had to walk away.

  “Ian, can you swing your legs this way and get into the chair?” the flight nurse asked.

  “Yes, if you can hold this crutch steady.” I braced against the wood and rubber support device with my left arm and swung myself into the chair.

  No, it wasn’t steps yet, so technically we all didn’t lie to Chelsie. Oh, what the hell, yes, I had lied to her. I lied to her through Brooks. I’d convinced him it was the best plan, and I needed his help convincing her. I needed her to realize she had to move on. I purposely tried to spare her, yet did so with agony threatening every cell of my being. It was all I could do to keep from yelling, “Don’t go. Stay. Love me or love the part of me that’s left.” But, she deserved more than I’d ever be able to give her.

  I let the love of my life walk away believing the worst.

  I knew there was going to be a special place in hell for me because of what I’d done. A mastermind of epic proportions. I prayed the day would come when she would forgive me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chelsie

  Weeks turned into months, and the time slowly ticked by as I watched with eager anticipation for any sign that Ian and Oliver had returned, but the lights remained on their usual timers, and my heart felt emptier by the passing days. Every single ring of my phone caused a startling reality that it wasn’t him on the other end of the line.

  I thought the worst had come when a package was delivered that I’d completely forgotten about. Opening the box, I found the specially made aprons for Ty and Oliver: Head Snicker and Head Chipper and the secret one that no one knew about, Head Lover.

  “Mommy, when is Mr. Ian going to be well enough to bring Oliver back home?” He subconsciously stirred his cereal. His appetite was about as minimal as mine. We’d both lost weight, and neither of us smiled much.

  I shoved the box on top of the fridge and tried to turn my emotions off with a mental key.

  “Sometimes healing takes time. Remember when you broke your arm and how long it was before the cast came off. Then you hurt it again, and the cast went right back on?”

  He nodded. “Is Daddy coming to get me this morning or tonight?” Perhaps he was looking for an escape from the sadness.

  The doorbell rang. “Well, that’s probably him. Go brush your teeth.”

  When I opened the door, Carson was leaning against the brick wall supporting my front entry.

  “He just finished breakfast. You want to come in and wait?” It killed me to be nice to the asshole, but for Ty’s sake, I wanted my son to remember me as a woman who, if nothing else, exuded class. Something Carson would never do.

  He pulled a bar stool out. “How’s loverboy doing?” Like he really cared.

  I changed my mind. Asshole didn’t quite cut it. Silently, I renamed him a prick.

  “Healing. You won’t need to sit. Ty won’t be that long.” I cut my eyes at him.

  “We’ve changed our plans. We’ve decided to go on a cruise and will be leaving out of Florida in the morning. It’s a nine-day Caribbean cruise, so the cell coverage isn’t gonna allow for a lot of calls to happen. Email me and when we get a chance, I’ll have him email back and share pictures with you.” He was trying every way to goad me into an argument.

  “Really, aren’t you supposed to notify me? At a time when I’m already—” I caught myself before I gave him ammunition to hurt me further.

  “Our papers say—“

  My invisible white flag flowing as I raised my hand. “You’re right, I know our papers say you can take him out of the country, you just never have. On second thought, Ty and I both miss Oliver and Ian, and I’m sure that a cruise will be a great distraction for him. I’m glad you thought of it.” I was proud of my quick recovery. My acting abilities were Oscar-material and epic, if I had to say so myself. During our divorce, he had it written into the papers that he could take Ty out of the country because he often traveled internationally. My lawyer tried unsuccessfully to fight it, but I figured he’d never use that power and gave up the argument. I suppose he decided it was time to test those waters.

  Sometimes, I wished I didn’t give in to men so easily.

  Ty hadn’t mentioned the trip, so the surprise was gonna be pretty awesome…in so many ways. Although guiltily, I wished I was going with him. Bittersweet trips with Carson beat depressing silence without Ian any moment of the day.

  After they had left, I sent Ian a text as I did many times each day.

  How are you getting along? Ty is going on a cruise with Carson tomorrow.

  I’m all alone. Sure wish you’d respond to me. I love you so much.

  Nothing. Not even crickets were making noise. But, I sent him messages every day anyway. I’d thought when I told him I’d canceled the opening of the café he would’ve at least responded to that, yet nothing. I knew his phone still worked because I’d get his voic
email sometimes on the first ring, and sometimes I could tell he was on the other line.

  One of these days he will find it in his heart to want me as much as I want him. One of these days he will tell me the truth.

  “Are you ready to do inventory?” Isabella handed me the spreadsheets.

  The devious look in her eye gave her away. “You already did this, didn’t you?”

  “Hmmm, yep.” She laughed and plopped down in the chair facing the front of my desk. She had her own desk, but she always worked at mine. Something was peculiar about her. She was glowing. Shit. She was G.L.O.W.I.N.G.

  “You have something to tell. Spill.”

  Rather than talk, she handed me her left hand. A small platinum band was centered with three oval diamonds—a large one in the center and a smaller version on each side. She giggled.

  “Oh, he’s got taste. He picked you.” I ran around the desk and gave her a hug as we migrated into a happy dance.

  “I was afraid to tell you at first, with what happened to you and Ian, but my parents are throwing us an engagement party, and well, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything. Please. You know you don’t have to ask for favors.”

  She pulled away. “This one I do. From the moment we first laid eyes on the place next door and upstairs, I’ve been in love with it. I’d like to have my engagement party at the bistro.”

  Her request, while precious and very fitting, took me back to a beautiful yet painful memory. I sat down in her chair. “Here? You’re not doing this to push me into opening it, are you?” Needing something to settle my nervous hands, I fidgeted with my ponytail.

  The barn doors between the shop and the bistro had been locked shut, and I refused to hold the grand opening of the bistro until Ian came back to me.

  “No. I’d never do that. It’s such a beautiful place and fits with my vintage wedding theme. Besides, it’s how Mick and I met in the first place.”