Dying to Love Her

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Dying to Love Her Page 8

by Tina Martin


  Andre

  . ~ .

  ANDRE WATCHED as Scott walked back and forth. They’d just wrapped up a Saturday afternoon meeting with Benjamin and was preparing to leave until Andre wanted to get a few things off of his chest – like the fact he’d actually broken off his engagement to Michelle, and put a ring on the right woman’s finger.

  Scott couldn’t believe it, and instead of responding, he paced the room.

  “So you were married to Ava all along.”

  “Yes. I love Ava. I feel things for her that I have never felt with anyone else.” Andre stood up, threw some papers in his briefcase. “Listen, Scott, I’m going to need you to stand in for this merger. I’m taking a leave of absence.”

  “What? Nah, nah, nah, man,” Scott said, shaking his head. “Andre...come on.”

  “I’m serious, Scott. I need to take care of my family. They need me right now.”

  “But this is your company. This is everything you’ve worked so hard for and you’re just going to—”

  “I’m not throwing it away, which is why I’m asking you to stand in for me. I’ll still be available for the critical meetings and I’ll be available by phone to assist you through this process. I need you to do this for me, man.”

  Scott took a deep breath. “I don’t know if I can, Dre.”

  “You can. You have to. You said it yourself...I’m not focused enough to go through with it. I’m sure the team knows I’ve been absent-minded this week.”

  Scott sighed again. “All right man, you know I got your back.”

  “I appreciate this. I really do. Let’s get together Monday to go over some specifics. I’ll also meet with Benjamin to let him know what’s going on.”

  “Cool.”

  Andre took his briefcase from the desk.

  “Hey, wanna grab a few beers?” Scott asked.

  “Nah...I can’t...meeting a realtor to check out a house.”

  “You’re buying a house?” Scott asked with raised brows.

  “No. I’m leasing. I figure we’re going to be in Charlotte for quite some time while we get the companies in sync, and right now Ava is living in a one-bedroom apartment. My son needs to have his own room.”

  “Wow. You’re going all-in, huh?”

  “That’s the only way to go.” Andre smiled then set his briefcase on the desk again. “By the way, my parents are going to be here next weekend, and they would love to see you. They ask about you all the time like you’re their son instead of me.”

  Scott grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure I’ll be available to meet y’all somewhere.”

  “Well, I’ll have a home before then and will probably have dinner catered. Oh, and Ava and Drew will be there hopefully. My parents have been anxious to meet Drew ever since I told them about him. So ah...yeah.” He clapped his hands together. “I gotta get out of here, man.”

  “All right. See you on Monday.”

  * * *

  Andre met with the realtor ending the house showing after signing a lease for the five-bedroom, three bath home in the South Park area of Charlotte. The house was perfect for his new family and he couldn’t wait to tell Ava, although he knew she wouldn’t immediately go for it. Still, he sped to her apartment with excitement boiling over.

  He parked in the parking stall where he normally parked, ran up the stairs, unlocked the door to her place and his heart sank when he saw her lying on the floor.

  In a panic, he rushed to her side and shook her – not the smartest thing to do, but once adrenaline starts pumping, people really didn’t do smart, rational things. “Ava!”

  Groggy, she slowly opened her eyes. “Huh?”

  “What are you doing on the floor, baby? You nearly scared me to death.”

  She rubbed her eyes. “See, that’s why you don’t need a key to my place, Andre.”

  “No, this is exactly why I need a key. Why are you on the floor?”

  “I was sleep...guess I rolled off the couch.”

  “You say that like it’s the norm,” he said, helping her up. “Are you okay?”

  Ava yawned.

  “Ava? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah...think so.”

  “Why were you sleeping on the couch anyway?”

  “This is where I usually sleep.” She yawned and stretched.

  “Let me get you some water.”

  Andre quickly came back with a cup of ice water, watching her take a few sips.

  Looking around her place, he saw a vacuum near an end table, some cleaning solution on the countertop with a sponge and a can of Pledge. A dust mop and bottle of Windex was near the front door. “You weren’t overworking yourself, were you?”

  “No. I was just cleaning up a little.”

  “A little? You got enough cleaning supplies around here to open up a maid service,” he quipped.

  She smiled, then laughed a little.

  Andre laughed too. “Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, well I would like to take you out if that’s okay.”

  “Yeah. That’s fine.” She yawned and closed her eyes again, rubbing her hands over her face.

  “If you’re not up to it, Ava, I can order take out.”

  “Now that you mention it, that’ll probably be better.”

  “What would you like?” he asked, palming her thigh.

  “Um...there’s an Italian restaurant down the street that makes some good Ziti.”

  “Okay. I’ll get some of that.”

  Ava stood and Andre grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?”

  “To get some Tylenol.”

  “No. Have a seat. I’ll get it for you. Where do you keep it?”

  “In the mirror cabinet in the bathroom.”

  He walked to the bathroom, opened the cabinet door and saw about five brown prescription pill bottles along with the over-the-counter drugs – Advil, Aleve and Tylenol. He took the bottle of Tylenol and walked back to the living room.

  She took a couple of pills from the container, tossed them in her mouth and washed them down with a swig of water. Then she gave him the name of the restaurant and the location of it.

  “I’ll be right back. Call me if you don’t feel well, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  About thirty minutes later, Andre returned with the take out, placing the bag on the kitchen table.

  Ava joined him, watching as he took the food from the bag. She removed the lid from her container and began eating. So did he.

  “I want to ask you something that’s been on my mind,” Andre said. “Did you ever think about me?”

  She nodded. “Every day.”

  “So, the way I see it is, you should’ve told me.”

  “Told you what?”

  “About your heart condition. You should’ve told me then and there...that first night we met when we were out to dinner. Or you could’ve told me before we married.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you should have. I could’ve hurt you, Ava.”

  “How?” she asked, frowning.

  “Making love is too strenuous for you, right?”

  “My doctor said sex was fine as long as I’m calm and relaxed.”

  “You were a virgin.”

  “And?”

  “And nobody’s calm and relaxed their first time.”

  “Well, all I know is, my doctor said it was fine, Andre.”

  “Your doctor doesn’t know how hard I love.”

  Ava smiled. Her doctor didn’t know, but she certainly did. The man was built like a machine and he knew how to use every part of his body.

  “I could’ve seriously hurt you,” he continued.

  “Well, I’m fine.”

  Andre sighed. “I don’t think you understand how much I care for you, Ava,” he said, examining her. “Gosh, I thought about you every single day for two years. Every day. When I realized you weren’t going to call me, I daydreamed about you, wanting to know how you were, if you were happy...if you’d met s
omeone else, and maybe that was the reason you hadn’t called me. But now I know why.” Andre studied her. She was quiet and chewing very slowly. Had she even heard anything he said?

  “I leased a house today.”

  She looked puzzled. “In Charlotte?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you relocating here?”

  “I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been on my mind. You’re here...my son is here...”

  “You could always fly to see us. I read in the paper that Andre Rockwell has a private jet.”

  Andre smirked. Looks like he wasn’t the only one doing research. She was checking him out, too. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Why’d you tell me you were an accountant?”

  “Because telling you that I’m a millionaire with a private jet may sound a little boastful. Besides, men with wealth use their money and influence to get women. I don’t need to do that.”

  You most certainly do not, Ava thought.

  “I am good with numbers though,” he added. “If that’s any consolation.”

  “I suppose you would have to be.”

  Andre grinned, then figured he’d gear the conversation back towards her. “Where do you work?”

  “I waitress at a restaurant that I’m sure you’ve never heard of. And I’m a teacher’s aide on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at a preschool.”

  “Why do you work so hard? You shouldn’t be working at all.”

  “Well, I do have a child to support and—”

  “Andrew is not solely your responsibility. He’s mine, too.”

  She nodded.

  “So why haven’t you asked me for any child support?”

  “Why haven’t you offered?” she countered.

  Andre took another sip of water.

  “Oh, I get it,” she said. “You want to make sure he’s yours first, right.”

  “I know he’s mine. I just don’t want to feel like I’m buying my son, but I do want to make sure he’s taken care of, so for right now, tell me who you bank with?”

  “Why?”

  “No more questions. Just tell me.”

  Ava smiled. “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “Cut me off by telling me no more questions?”

  “Because everything doesn’t need to be explained, baby. You know I’m asking you for your bank information so I can deposit some money, right?”

  “I would assume.”

  “So why are you asking me why when you already know why?”

  “Because I want you to tell me exactly what it is you’re doing, but you don’t like to do that, I see.”

  “Not always.”

  Ava wiped her mouth.

  “Your bank?” he said. “You know what...never mind. I’m adding you to my account tomorrow and I’ll get you a card. Then you can get whatever you need for yourself and Andrew.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Andre finished the glass of water. “So what do you usually do on a Saturday night?”

  “I watch TV, keep Drew entertained and go to bed.”

  “Well, Drew’s not here, so why don’t we go out. Me and you.”

  “Go out where?”

  “I don’t know. This is your city. You tell me.”

  “Um...” Ava said, stalling. She wasn’t in the mood for a night on the town, but she could tell Andre was up for just about anything. They were complete opposites. He was healthy, she was sick. He was rich. She was working two jobs and struggling. He was full of life and she was dying. If only things were different...

  If she was normal, she would be perfect for him and vice versa. But pretending like things were fine was as wasteful as the time she’d spent in Nassau with him. She did it then and ended up heartbroken with a baby, asking herself why this had to happen to her – why she had a bad heart and why, the man of her dreams, didn’t understand her plight? Why was he even still there? Still trying? The words I’m dying should’ve sent him running for the hills, but he was there, staring at her like he could jump across the table and devour her.

  “Ava?” he asked after a long period of silence.

  “I’m not up for it, Dre,” Ava finally admitted. “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. No problem. We can chill here.”

  Ava frowned. “No...you can go chill elsewhere with your corporate people or your fiancée for that matter. I appreciate dinner, but I don’t need you to make me feel like a charity case. Now please go.”

  “Why are you flippin’ out on me?” He glared at her, but it wasn’t one of anger. He was trying to read her. To understand her. “We’ve been having a beautiful night and now you want me to go.”

  “Yes. I need to be alone right now.”

  Andre wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well, I don’t want to go.”

  “Then what do you want because I’m tired. I have to take my meds and start cooking—”

  “Cooking? We just ate.”

  “I know, but I cook my meals for the week on Saturdays so I can just warm them up. I don’t have time to cook during the week.”

  “I’ll have your food catered for this week. Problem solved. Now what?” Andre interlocked his fingers, staring her down.

  “Okay, well I’m going to bed then.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Ava looked at him, her brows furrowed.

  “Oh, don’t give me that look. We’ve slept together before. I still feel the heat of your body on my skin. The way you whisper my name. The way you hold on to me so tightly. Years can’t change what I feel for you, Ava.”

  “Then maybe the fact that you have a fiancée can.”

  “Had a fiancée,” he corrected. “I broke it off with her.”

  “You shouldn’t have.” Ava stood, took her empty container to the trash can then washed her hands.

  “What are you saying, Ava?”

  “I’m saying you should save yourself the heartache of being with someone like me.”

  Andre walked over to the garbage and trashed his empty food container, joining her at the sink. As she dried her hands, he began washing his.

  “And by heartache, you mean what, exactly?”

  “Come on, Andre. You’re an intelligent man. You know exactly what I mean.”

  Andre wiped his hands and tossed the paper towel in the trash, immediately returning to her – to that personal space he liked to invade. “No. Why don’t you tell me? Stop being evasive and just tell me.”

  “I told you before...I’m dying. Why would you want to be with someone who’s dying?”

  Andre scowled and hardened his jaw. “I never want to ever hear you tell me you’re dying.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Well I don’t want to hear it!” His chest rose up and down quickly. He appeared flushed and irritated. “All I want to do is be with you, Ava.”

  Ava sighed, holding in tears.

  “I just…I just want to be with you.” He touched her face, angling her head up so she was looking at him. “Now, would it be okay if I spent the night?”

  Ava nodded.

  Andre took a kiss from her lips. He needed to be with her tonight to clarify some things. He desperately wanted to know if she loved him and if she was invested in this marriage. He wanted her to be. He loved her and if need be, he would make her love him. Whatever it took, he would do.

  Ava

  . ~ .

  IN THE SHOWER, I am an emotional mess. I’m sure Andre can’t hear me crying, but he’ll probably see my puffy eyes and realize I’ve been bawling. I still can’t believe he has these feelings for me. Maybe it’s because of Drew, or maybe the man is genuinely in love with me, but I feel horrible for doing this to him – for making him feel like he had to call off his engagement just to be with me. I’m not worth the time or the effort he’s trying to invest in me, and I don’t know how to get that through his head.

  I turn off the water, step out of the shower and dry off, blotting my curly hair dry. Then
I apply some leave-in conditioner, massaging it in really well. I’m stalling. I do not want to face Andre, and I don’t want him holding me because it would be torture on my mind. Don’t misunderstand, his hands on my body are pure magic – one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced, but the thought of it being the last is what bothers me.

  When I step out of the bathroom, he’s in the bedroom, sitting on my full-size bed, in his boxers – nothing else. For a moment, I can’t take my mind off of chest. Boy is it a work of art. Everything about him exudes manliness – his broad shoulders, his washboard abs, his sculpted back and his close-cut beard I love touching when we kiss.

  As I slowly walk in the room wearing a thin night shirt, he watches me like a hawk – staring as if I’m completely naked. That’s probably the way he wants me.

  I turn off the lights and pull back the covers. He gets in with me, spoons me and finds my hand with his.

  “You seem nervous,” he says, pressing his wet lips against my back.

  I shiver. “I am.”

  “Why?”

  “I didn’t think this would happen...didn’t think you would fall for me.”

  “I fell for you a long time ago, darling.” He traces the curves of my shoulders with his fingertips.

  His warm breath kisses my back, followed by his lips again. I cringe, especially when I feel his facial hair brush up against me.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you...we need to file the paperwork to have Andrew’s last name changed to Rockwell...yours as well.”

  “Andre, let’s not talk about that right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just don’t want to think about it right now,” I say, feeling tears slide down my face. I try my best not to make any whimpering sounds so Andre is not aware of what’s going on, but then, he repositions himself on top of me, staring down into my flooded eyes.

 

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