by Liv Morris
“Well, has he? Righted your world?” Emma stares at me with an impassive face, waiting for my answer.
“I thought he did, but I’m not sure any more.” I bury my head in my hands. There’s an ache in my chest making it hard to breath.
“Hey. Let’s get out of here. Maybe go outside and sit by the pool.” I lower my hands and look up at Emma. She is smiling at me sweetly. Love rolls off her and I want to open my arms up to it. It’s the salve my heart longs for.
Once again, I charge the lunch to James’ account. Signing the bill over to him seems wrong since I’m here discussing him with Emma. Am I disrespecting his generosity? If I weren’t so tangled up in the strings attached to his love, I’d say yes.
We find a quiet spot away from the eyes of onlookers near the pool. The warmth of the sun shines down on me, removing the chill I’ve had all day.
“Good choice,” I say, and Emma nods her head at me.
“I didn’t realize what was going on with you. I worried it was bad, but I had no idea it was this bad. We need to make a plan.” Emma reaches into her large bag and digs around, pulling out a notebook and pen. “You know me. I’m a list person.”
“Right. And sticky notes.” We laugh, and it feels good, familiar. “Thanks.” She stops her writing and looks at me.
“Thanks? Are you kidding me? I’d take a bullet for you.” I cringe and she gasps. “Oh my God, Harlow. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “I feel the same about you. And her.”
Emma rubs my shoulder. “Let’s figure this out. What do you have going on the rest of the weekend?”
“Nothing the rest of the day, but I need to get back home,” I say, leaving out that I’ve pressed my luck with James. “Brunch tomorrow here at the club. James’ nephew is in town for a clerkship at The Clinic.”
“His nephew? Will he be at brunch, too?” Emma looks at me pointedly.
“I think so. James mentioned it this morning.”
“Not to get off topic, but this nephew … I’ll need details about him before we leave. Like his name and looks. He has to be smart if he’s at The Clinic.”
“His name is Sinclair, but he goes by Sin.”
“Whoa. Stop there.” Emma fans herself with the notepad and lifts a brow. “Tell me more. Like when can I meet him?”
I laugh, then think of Sin being attracted her. It makes my stomach roil. Emma’s beyond beautiful and sharp as a tack, she would be a good match for an up-and-coming doctor.
“He’s the opposite of James, looks wise.” I leave it at that. No need to tell her his golden brown eyes are so stunning, it’s hard to believe they’re real.
“Do you mind if I crash brunch with you?” Emma pouts and puts on a cute, no-way-you’re-telling-me-no face. “I want to see James in action and meet this nephew.”
“Sure.” I cringe, knowing James will not like me inviting Emma to our usual Sunday morning routine. I’ll try to pass it off as her needing to talk about the wedding. “Okay. Meet us here at ten o’clock.”
“Sounds good. Think about what we talked about today. I am here for you if you need help in any way. Like moving in with me, it’s an option.”
“I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I don’t know if I can be what James wants.”
“Be who you truly are. If he doesn’t like the real you, then leave him,” she admonishes.
“The real me,” I repeat. I have no clue who I am.
“Yes, the real you.” She eyes me with determination. “I’ve read your poetry. You’re a poet with a sensitive heart and have been an old soul since the day we met.”
“That’s what my mother called me. An old soul.” I smile. “Sometimes I felt like I was more the parent. She was so carefree.”
“She was, and loved you so. She would want the best for you, too.”
“True. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” I just need your strength.
“I try.” We stand up and I hug her tight. A lump forms in my throat as emotions begin surfacing inside me.
Emma pulls away, scans my face, and I try to paint on my best smile for her. I hope it works.
“I’ll be fine. I promise.” She must’ve bought my plastered on happiness because she nods her head. I’m relieved.
We walk back inside the club and I stop at the entrance to the bar.
“I’m going to say goodbye to Paul.” I motion my head toward him.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. And thanks for everything, Emma.”
“I’m thankful to finally have you back.” Emma hugs me tight before turning to head toward the exit.
She sashays away in her three-inch heels, a tight pencil skirt, and silk blouse, her brown, wavy hair bouncing in rhythm with her steps.
Turning toward the bar, Paul has a large group of customers standing in front of him. I catch his eye and wave goodbye. He waves back at me with a big smile on his face.
He’s the closest thing to a father I’ve had in my life and likely the only person who truly loved my mother. A part of my heart breaks for her, and for me, too.
Where would I be standing today if Paul had acted on his love for her? I close my eyes to push away the regret as I open the front door and walk outside.
The hot sun hits my cheeks and dries away any trace of tears as I walk to my car. I get inside my BMW, belt up, and sit silently for a few minutes with the car idling. My grip on the steering wheel tightens and I decide I can’t go home to the house I share with James.
The place calling to me is my mother’s final resting spot. I promised James I wouldn’t go visit her grave without him, but today, I need to talk to her alone.
I place the car into drive and leave the country club behind me, along with James’ wishes.
Chapter Fourteen
Harlow
I’ve walked the grounds of St. Johns Cemetery one other time in my life: the day of my mother’s interment. That day was like a journey into hell. James kept me upright by holding me tight against his chest while I tried to cry. The tears were hiding just below the surface, but they never fell. I was too numb from the tranquilizing pills I’d taken on his insistence. Today, I’m not even carrying them with me. My mind and heart belong to me alone.
Now, I stand at the edge of the cemetery’s interior road, alone in a place filled with hundreds of resting souls. I bow my head in a silent prayer, needing to lean on something stronger than myself. My fragile emotions are as delicate as a baby bird’s wing. If I have one slight twist in my heart, I’m afraid I’ll break apart.
Old memories from Sunday mornings remind me I’m never truly without God’s help. Resolved to press on, I open my eyes and start to walk forward through the scores of marked graves in front of me.
Though the sun shines bright overhead, my heels sink into the damp ground from yesterday’s summer storm. My pace slows as I release each shoe from its entrapment.
Step. Pull. Step. Pull.
Finally, I give up trying to fight Mother Nature and bend over to take off my heels. The cool, wet grass tickles my feet as I walk farther into the cemetery. The sensation between my toes reminds me of my childhood when I’d run barefoot through the fields near Lake Blackburn. It was my mother’s favorite place to escape with me during the summer months.
Someone created a small sandy beach on a bank of a nearby lake. She dubbed it Minnesota’s Malibu and we’d pretend to be sunning ourselves in California. Playful and carefree, remembering those good times makes me forget where I am for a brief second, until I see her headstone ahead. My eyes blur and I blink away the moisture so I can read the words on the granite—words I chose for her.
Beloved Mother
“Mom …” I settle a hand on top of the unpolished stone and fold to my knees. The impact makes my bag drop beside me and the contents spill onto the grass. My pent-up feelings spill out too as the tightness in my chest releases into sobs. Seconds evolve in
to minutes as a river of grief flows freely. The ache in my heart hurts so deeply, I can’t catch my breath.
Slowly, my crying subsides and some of the heaviness on my shoulders melts away, but my heart still aches deep within me. I have so many unspoken words to say.
As my breathing calms, I reach for the tissue pack lying spilled from my bag and wipe my cheeks. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long. I’ve just never had the courage to face being here alone. But I had to come today. I miss you so much, Mom.” I pause to choke back the tears when I remember her last birthday alive with me. It was a happy day, just the two of us. I baked her favorite carrot cake from scratch and we ate almost the whole thing.
“I’m so sorry. You being here … I feel like it’s my fault.” I take a second to steady my breathing. I’ve uttered my confession of what I did that night to only one other person—James. “I tried to stop Tony and grabbed his arm. Then, the gun … it went off.” I bow my head as tears fall, reliving that moment in my mind—the chain reaction following my action. Would he have shot her if I hadn’t pulled on his arm? The possibility eats at me constantly.
“I’ll never forgive myself. You might still be alive. James, the doctor I met who’s taken care of everything since you …” I can’t speak, the word died out loud, “he tells me not to blame myself and to tell no one what I did.” I clasp my hands together as they begin to shake.
“I miss you so much and need you now more than ever. James asked me to marry him, and I wanted you with me when I chose my dress. The lady asked if I wanted to take a photo to send to my mother.” I remember the owner’s sad eyes and apologies. It ruined the special day.
“I planned to wear your strand of pearls when I walked down the aisle, but now, I don’t even know if I should marry James. He saved the pearls for me after he had people clean up the apartment. He was so good to me. Helped me with everything at first, but now, he’s changed. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I’m so confused.”
Before I can continue, James’ ringtone sounds out from somewhere next to me on the ground. I should’ve known he’d call me. There’s no hiding from him. My car has a GPS system attached to it and James can read my location in real time. He says it’s for my protection, but I’m not convinced of that anymore. I think he’s desperate to know what I’m doing at all times.
I scurry to find my phone. The case is wet from the damp grass and by the time I clean it off with a tissue, the ringtone stops. I hold the phone and wait for the voicemail alert.
I hear the ping, and sure enough, I have a message waiting. I’m inclined just to call him and skip listening, but I’d prefer to know his mood. I hit the screen for the message to play.
“Harlow Masters. Call me as soon as you listen to this. I know where you are,” James says in a strangely calm voice, but his use of my last name spells trouble. He only uses it when he’s introducing me to others.
“Mom, I have to go, but I’ll be back soon.” I place my bag over my shoulder and kneel quietly for a moment of silence in front of her grave, trying to steal a few more seconds with her before I call James back.
“I want to make you proud. I love you, Mom.” My voice cracks and I fight back the tears. My heart knows she’d say those same words back if she were sitting beside me.
I grab my heels and pull myself up to stand on my bare feet. I don’t want this time of ours to end, so I decide to take a memory of her with me. I open the camera app on my phone and take a quick snapshot of her tombstone. It might seem macabre, but since she wasn’t one to get caught in a photo, I have only a handful of memories from our life together.
I begin to walk back toward my car, but stop after a few feet. I look over my shoulder and move my lips to silently say goodbye again.
I’m in the driver’s seat of my car behind the dark tinted windows. They may shield me from immediate view, but not from James. I imagine him holding his phone, waiting for me to call. He knows the car hasn’t moved from its spot.
Knowing the longer I delay, the more time he has to stew in anger, I press “call back” and start the engine to circulate some cool air.
“Harlow, hold on,” he spits out his order like a drill sergeant. In the background, I hear a woman, probably a nurse, talking to him, and then silence. He’s put me on mute. I worry my lip as I wait for him to return.
“What the hell are you doing at the cemetery?” Though he’s talking barely above a whisper, his tone is laced with venom. I am sure he’d be yelling into the phone if he weren’t at The Clinic. “I thought I told you that place was off limits without me.” He takes several breaths, slow and deep.
Shit. He’s really ticked off. I’m starting to second-guess my decision to come here, but I feel like a weight has lifted off my chest. He calls, and like a dark cloud trying to hover over me, my mood shifts. He needs to hear the truth.
“I’m okay. I swear. I needed to stop by and I was out—”
“The club is miles away from the cemetery, so don’t even go there with me,” he scolds, like I’m a teen out past curfew, and I can’t help but feel like one. He stops and mumbles to someone under his breath. I’m embarrassed to have him speak like this to me in front of his possible peers. We never fight, but I also haven’t given him cause to be upset before. “Did you take your pills?”
“I took them.” The lie tumbles off my tongue with ease. I’ve been lying to him about them for weeks, despising how they make me feel.
“Promise me you’ll never go without me. You’re not strong enough to handle this alone.” His anger from before has mellowed some and I exhale.
“I’m sorry, James, but I swear, I’m fine. I was talking to Mom and I felt like she was right there.” I fire out my convincing speech so he can’t interrupt.
“We’ll talk about this later.” He dismisses what I shared by shutting me down and my mood deflates even more, if possible.
“Fine.” Stung, I reply fast and sharp.
“I need you to help me.” He doesn’t acknowledge or recognize that I’m upset, his tone reverting back to the normal, everyday James. “I’m just getting out of surgery. We had another heart transplant around noon. A young mother.”
“I hope she’s doing okay.” I lower my head and close my eyes. He’s fighting for a life. This side of James makes me wonder if I’m overreacting to his recent behaviors. It’s his nature to care for others, and maybe he’s trying to protect me. My thoughts keep bouncing from one possibility to another
“I need to stay and monitor her vitals with the team for the next few hours. I’ll likely be very late, so don’t wait up.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
After our conversation ends, I decide to head home and find a bottle of wine. I’m relieved he isn’t going to come home tonight. As his fiancée, my feelings spell trouble for us, signaling a decision needs to be made.
Stay or go? But go where?
I drive under the black wrought iron entrance of the cemetery and head in the direction of another set of iron gates. These gates have surrounded me like a prison for four months. Today’s little taste of freedom makes me want more, which is a dangerous desire if I stay with James.
Chapter Fifteen
Sin
I’ve been listening to the orientation speaker drone on and on about what to expect over the next four weeks during The Clinic’s clerkship, but my mind remains back at James’ house where I walked in and found Harlow strapped to a table. Fuck, I don’t even know how to process seeing her lying there before me, succumbing to my uncle’s will.
I’m convinced he had no idea I was there taking in the entire scene. My stomach still churns with the conflict inside me. I was equal parts sickened and turned on from the shocking display.
The more I dwell on watching James fuck her, the more my body hums with adrenaline. Being stuck in this seat is killing me. I want to get up and walk around, shake off this excess energy, but I’m trapped in this spot for a couple more hours. I gla
nce around the room and see attentive students typing away on their laptops. I borrowed a few sheets of paper and a pen from a guy sitting next to me, since the whole reason I went back to James’ house was to get the laptop I left lying by the coffeemaker.
Damn, if only I’d remembered to grab my computer bag before I left the first time. But I got distracted when Harlow came downstairs and heard what James was saying about her. At least I put my cell phone in my pocket, or I wouldn’t have it now either.
When I turned the garage door handle to go inside the house and get my bag, I heard strange noises and groans. I shut the door quietly behind me, unsure where the sounds were coming from. I walked through the hallway leading to the kitchen area and saw her on the table splayed out like a sacrificial offering.
Her angel-like hair cascaded across the dark wood. A glint of sun found her hair and created a halo effect. The robe she wore covered her from the waist up, leaving the seductive curve of her creamy ass exposed. I couldn’t see James’ hands gripping her hips as he plunged into her, but I guessed he used them to secure her in place. Something had to keep her steady so he was able to continue his onslaught.
I stayed back at the perfect angle so he didn’t see me being a voyeur to their kinky sexcapade. He moaned his pleasure and her name repeatedly. He was so caught up in fucking her he never sensed my presence.
Lust rushed through me at the sight of Harlow tied up and bound. My body reacted like a normal guy’s would. How could it not? I could even smell her sex in the dark distance. It surrounded me—an intoxicating scent that only fueled my desire to have her as mine.
She sought me out, a silhouette cloaked in dark shadows. Her eyes plunged straight through me and I looked closer. At first pass, I thought they were hooded with arousal, but what I really saw in them slapped me in the face. She was begging me. Asking me for something.
Her lips moved in silence and the words were unmistakable. “Please go.” Then she turned her head and the spell I fell under was broken.
Everything happened so fast—from realizing what was occurring in front of me to sorting through my reaction. In the end, I turned and got the hell out of there like she had asked. There seemed like no other choice than to run as far as I could from them. It was a private moment and I was trespassing.