The first thing Beth did when she arrived at Aidan’s house was remove her bathrobe. Her nightgown wasn’t as bloody so she felt she could tolerate wearing it until Nathan showed up with her clothes. Under Aidan’s watchful eye, she walked to the bathroom, refusing his offer to help her clean up. He insisted on standing outside the door, though, just in case.
Beth closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. Taking deep breaths to combat her wooziness, she made her way over to the sink and looked in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was unrecognizable. Blood was caked in her hair and on her face, neck, and chest. Most disturbingly, it soaked through the gauze taped to her forehead. As she recalled the trauma of getting stitches for the first time, tears toppled down her cheeks.
“Beth, are you okay?” Aidan asked from his post on other side of the door.
Beth squeezed her eyes shut and said a silent apology for the lie she was about to tell.
“Yes, I’m fine.” Her squeaky voice didn’t sound convincing.
It took a moment for Aidan to reply. “Okay. Well, I’m right out here if you need me.”
Beth’s desire to ask for help teetered on the tip of her tongue. “All right. Thank you.”
Aidan began pacing, as evidenced by his shifting shadow under the door.
Beth set her discharge package down on the counter and ran the water at a cool temperature. Her hands shook as she cupped them under the faucet and leaned forward to wash her face. She ended up abandoning the idea. After everything she went through tonight, even the simplest task seemed daunting.
Beth had told Aidan that she wouldn’t touch her dressing, but she hadn’t realized how dirty it was. She might feel better if she had a clean one on instead.
After rummaging through her discharge package, she pulled out her supplies and inspected the dressing in the mirror. How could she remove it without hurting herself? Dr. Bettman had included written instructions, but even after reading them, she still doubted she could do it on her own. For Aidan’s sake, though, she was willing to try.
Beth found a washcloth hanging over the bathtub faucet. Stars danced before her eyes as she turned back to the sink. She sat on the toilet, waiting for the dizziness to pass.
“Beth? I don’t wanna bother you… I just need to know you’re still okay.” The concern in Aidan’s voice played tug of war with her resolve not to ask for help.
Against her better judgment, she repeated her standard reply. “I’m fine, thank you.”
Aidan resumed pacing on the other side of the door.
Beth braced her hands on the countertop and stood slowly. Her dizziness was still present, but she was determined not to delay her cleanup any longer.
She didn’t want to waste the sterile water Dr. Bettman provided, so she wet the washcloth in the sink and then carefully wiped her chin, the area on her face furthest from her bandage. Next, she cleaned her cheeks, followed by the skin around her dressing. As she wrung out the washcloth, blood circled in the sink and disappeared down the drain with the water pouring from the faucet. She couldn’t ignore the ill feeling that accompanied the knowledge all of it came from her.
Now that her face looked a little better, she felt slightly more confident in tackling her dressing. She carefully peeled up the ends of the tape along the top edge of the gauze and winced in pain. Her body shook as she dropped her hands with a defeated whimper.
“Aidan. Help.”
The rushing water drowned out her meek call.
Beth braced her hands on either side of the sink and took deep breaths that, this time, didn’t ease her vertigo.
“Come on, just get it over with,” she said in a weak attempt at self-coaching.
Looking into the mirror, she gripped the top corners of the tape with her thumb and forefinger and peeled it back a little more. Once the top strip of tape detached successfully, she moved on to the other three sides.
Even with all the tape lifted, the gauze remained stuck to her forehead. The blood had dried the dressing to her skin. Gently, she tugged on the gauze, hoping it would come away easily. She was met with a searing pain.
Her response was louder than last time. “Aidan!”
The bathroom door flung open. Aidan’s inquisitive expression morphed into panic when he saw what she’d done to her dressing.
“I’m sorry for touching it.” Beth began crying, finally letting her emotions escape. “I just… I thought…”
“It’s okay, baby.” Aidan pulled her into his arms and stroked her hair as she wept into his T-shirt.
“Oh, Aidan, I was so scared.” Beth shut her eyes, desperately trying to block out the image of the masked figure in the window.
Aidan placed a soothing kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“My dressing.” A sob retched from her throat. “It’s stuck.”
Aidan framed her face in his hands. Her vision was distorted from her tears, but she could still make out the determination in his face.
“I’m gonna fix this.” He kissed her lips tenderly. “I promise.”
Beth’s gaze drifted to his white T-shirt, which was now stained with her blood.
She gasped. “Oh no, look what I’ve done.”
Aidan leveled his eyes with hers. “Beth, I don’t care about my damn shirt, okay? I care about you.” He led her to the toilet and brought the lid down. “Take a seat.”
She did as she was told.
Aidan turned toward the door. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Alarm coursed through her, springing her to her feet again. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I need to get additional supplies.” He guided her back to a sitting position. “I’ll be back in a second.”
As promised, he returned quickly with two basins—one blue, one red—and several washcloths. He filled the blue basin with the sterile water provided by the doctor and placed it at her feet. At the thought of removing her dressing, Beth’s tears began again.
Aidan kneeled before her, staring up at her imploringly. “Listen to me, Beth. You need to tell me when you’re not okay. Please. I’m here to help you.”
Beth knew her hysteria wasn’t helping, but her tears refused to stop. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve already done so much.”
His lips formed a tight line. “I’ve hardly done enough.”
Beth’s heart lurched as he brushed his hand along her cheeks, wiping away her tears.
Instead of using the sterile water from the blue basin, Aidan reached toward the sink and turned on the faucet. He wet a washcloth and cleaned her neck and upper chest, scrubbing harder in some areas to remove the blood. He grabbed a second washcloth to concentrate on her hairline, mindful of the gauze at all times.
After tossing the used washcloths aside and turning off the faucet, he studied the dressing like he was formulating a plan of action.
“I’m going to be careful when I remove the gauze, but if I hurt you, tell me.” Embedded in Aidan’s words was a sorrow that tore at her heart. “I can’t give you any pain medication yet because it’ll make you drowsy. I need you to be alert when I do this.”
Beth nodded. She was still concerned it would hurt like before but trusted him to take care of her.
Aidan dipped a fresh washcloth into the blue basin and brought it to her forehead. “I’m going to soak the dressing so it comes away easier.”
Beth trembled as he pressed the wet cloth to her forehead, but she felt no pain.
“Are you okay?” His eyebrows drew together. “I can stop if you’re not. There’s no need to rush through this.”
Beth swallowed hard to suppress her nerves. “I’m all right.”
As Aidan continued his work, she braced herself for pain, but it never came, even as the gauze peeled away from her skin.
Aidan’s mask of stoicism remained in place as he examined her injury, giving her no indication of what it looked like.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
Aidan looked away as he answered. “It’s not bad.”
He tossed the dirty dressing into the red basin and washed the blood from his hands.
“I want to see it.”
His eyes jumped to hers. “No.”
“Please, I need to see it.”
Aidan rubbed his hand along the base of his neck, looking everywhere but at her. Finally, he offered his hand and guided her to the mirror. Beth gasped at her reflection. Her wound was red, swollen, and the ends of the black dissolving stitches stuck out from her skin in harsh kinks. Nausea hit her hard.
Aidan snaked his arm around her waist, steadying her. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna redress it and you’ll be good as new.”
Beth let him usher her back to the toilet so she could sit down. Much to her relief, it didn’t hurt at all as he cleaned the wound with the sterile water and covered it with fresh gauze and tape. He didn’t look at the instructions once, but she refrained from asking why, fearing she already knew the answer.
Once Aidan finished, he brought her back to the mirror. Although her face looked much better, she still felt unclean. Her gaze dropped to her bloodstained nightgown and slippers.
Aidan grasped her hand and squeezed. “Why don’t you take a bath?”
Beth frowned. “What if my dressing gets wet?”
“I’ll bathe you and ensure it doesn’t.”
“You’ll bathe me?” She couldn’t mask her surprise.
He placed a kiss to her hair. “Please let me take care of you.”
She nodded.
Aidan helped her sit down on the toilet and then filled the bathtub with water. Sadness settled in his eyes when he removed her nightgown. During Dr. Bettman’s examination, Beth saw the bruises on her body, but Aidan was seeing them all for the first time.
She cupped his cheek in her palm. “Aidan, I’m all right.”
This time, she meant it.
Without a word, Aidan removed her slippers and took her hand, helping her into the bathtub. The water felt warm and welcoming as she sank below the surface. He kneeled beside her and rolled up a large bath towel, which he tucked behind her head as a pillow against the tiled wall.
Closing her eyes, Beth succumbed to the tranquility of the water. Her headache was still present, but now that the stress of changing her dressing was over, she could relax and enjoy Aidan’s attention.
As he washed her hair and cleaned her upper body, moving the sponge in soothing circles, her timidity remained at bay, even though she had never felt more exposed. She owed it all to the man who took care of her so perfectly.
The sponge stilled over her heart, drawing her from her semi-slumber.
Aidan stared at her with tears in his eyes.
Beth sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”
Aidan dropped the sponge into the water and kissed a bruise on her left shoulder.
“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” With a wince, he turned his head, resting his cheek against her wet skin.
“Beth?” he whispered.
“Yes?”
His hand found hers under the water. “I love you.”
With those words, it was as though gravity vanished. Beth’s heart soared into her throat, bringing forth the reply that felt the most natural, the most right.
“I love you, too, Aidan.”
Relief flooded his face, washing away the tension. Beth reached over the tub and clung to him. He returned her embrace, pressing his hands to her back and light kisses to her neck—kisses that soothed and adored, and stirred emotions in her she couldn’t articulate.
“I love you with everything I am, and everything I hope to be.” Aidan’s declaration possessed a determination she’d never heard from him before. “And not a day will go by from now on without me saying so.”
Beth tightened her arms around him, her fingers digging into soft flesh and hard muscle, confirming this wasn’t a dream, that he was real and felt the same way about her as she did about him.
“Oh, how I love you.” She clenched her eyes shut. “So much.”
Amongst still water and heartfelt confessions, they held each other until Aidan noticed her fingers had begun to wrinkle. He helped her out of the tub, wrapped her in a towel, and pulled her into his arms again.
As he brushed his lips to hers passionately, Beth realized his love for her was not a new revelation but testimony of a feeling he’d carried for her long before this night.
The towel gave way, exposing her to him once more. Aidan started at her feet, kissing every bruise as he made his way up her body and dried her. After he finished, he dressed her in a large gray T-shirt of his, taking extra care in making sure her dressing remained undisturbed.
When Beth stood before the mirror again, she didn’t cringe or feel nauseated. Her hair was wet and pushed back from her face, and a healthy pink color bloomed in her cheeks. Most importantly, there was no blood anywhere.
After she took her pain medication, Aidan held her hand and led her out of the bathroom.
“You can sleep in my room. I’ll stay on the couch in the living room.”
Beth pulled him to a halt in the hallway. “Please stay with me.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind the couch.” His eyes scanned hers for affirmation.
“I need you with me, please.”
He kissed the back of her hand. “Okay.”
Aidan brought her into his bedroom. Beth settled in his bed under the covers while he walked to the window, pulling his bloody T-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
Moonlight filtered into the room, accentuating his strong torso and tortured expression as he stared outside into the darkness. Beth watched him quietly, grateful for the rare honor of catching him in an unguarded moment but troubled by the reality of his brokenness, which he worked so hard to conceal from her tonight in favor of putting her needs first.
As she slipped off to sleep, the ache in her head and heart tamed by her medication, she had but one wish: for Aidan to see himself the way she did—the compassionate and gentle soul beneath the tough exterior. Then maybe one day, he, too, would be free from pain.
Beth lifted her arms in the air triumphantly, her smile as bright as her sequined costume. The music stopped and the supporting cast disbanded around her and Jack Peters. They had just finished filming the biggest dance number of Venus Rising on one of the studio’s largest soundstages.
Jack draped his arm over her shoulders. “Great job, Beth.”
She beamed. “Thanks. You were great, too.”
Jack’s assistant handed them towels and cups of water.
Beth patted her forehead with the towel and took a long drink that emptied her cup. “I can’t believe in a few hours we’ll no longer be costars.”
“We’ve had a really great run, haven’t we?” Jack gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You must be happy about getting rid of a certain somebody, though.” He jutted out his chin in Lydia Dale’s direction. She sat on a chair in the corner, perusing her script.
Beth giggled. “Well, we still have the press tour next spring, so we won’t be separated for long. I will miss you, though, Jack.”
“And I’ll miss you.” Jack’s grin widened as their choreographer, Ryan Sawyer, jogged over to them.
“Hey, you two. You did great! I think it’ll be the most popular number in the picture.”
Jack pointed to Beth. “It was all her.”
Beth blushed, even though she knew he was being overly generous. She wished Mr. Bankson would tell her what he thought about her performance, too, but he stayed mum as usual. His conversations with the cast were always kept to a minimum, as was his renowned directing style. The experience was the exact opposite of Beth’s working relationships with her previous directors, but she respected Mr. Bankson just as much.
“Well, it’s almost noon and I’m starving.” Jack cocked his eyebrows at Beth. “Would you like to join Ryan and me at the commissary for lunch?”
Beth
set aside her towel and empty cup. “That sounds great. I’m famished, too.”
“Miss Sutton.” A studio messenger approached and handed her a telegram.
She tossed a perplexed glance at Jack and Ryan before reading it.
Miss Sutton,
Your presence is required at the office of Mr. Luther J. Mertz immediately.
Regards,
Ethel
Beth scanned the telegram a second time. Nathan and Mr. Stern hadn’t mentioned anything about a meeting when she saw them this morning.
Jack and Ryan looked at her expectantly.
She dropped the telegram into a nearby garbage can. “I’m sorry, but I can’t have lunch with you. I have to meet with Mr. Mertz.”
Ryan clapped a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. Some other time.”
Jack echoed his sentiment, and the two men left without her.
The messenger gestured to the exit door at the opposite end of the soundstage. “Miss Sutton, a car is waiting for you.”
Beth followed the messenger outside. Without any parting words, he jumped on his bicycle and rode off.
The chauffeur greeted her with a stiff nod and opened the back door of a limousine parked next to the building. As Beth entered the car, her stomach churned. She was never good with surprises, especially ones coming from the Big Boss.
On the drive across the studio lot, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. She felt exhausted, and her forehead was still tender where the stitches were. Stressing over the meeting wouldn’t help her condition.
Mr. Mertz didn’t want to waste filming time while she recovered and ordered the Venus Rising stylists to give her a far side part, so her hair would sweep across her forehead and conceal the stitches. Since she no longer wore gauze, the style hid the injury perfectly and didn’t conflict with any scenes filmed already. With Christmas Eve tomorrow, the motion picture had to be completed today no matter what, as per the original shooting schedule.
Nathan notified Mr. Mertz of Beth’s stitches so she wouldn’t have to meet with him directly. As an explanation for how she obtained the injury, Nathan said she fell at home. He omitted the details about the man in the window because he didn’t want to delve into her hospital visit and the police questioning. More specifically, he didn’t want Mr. Mertz finding out about Aidan’s visit to the hospital or that she had stayed at Aidan’s house for two nights following the incident.
Starbright Page 13