Forever Series Box Set Books 1-3

by Mona Ingram

  “It’s unfortunate that your husband couldn’t be here.” The oncology surgeon looked slightly annoyed, and Ariana forced a small, apologetic smile.

  “I know you consulted with the surgeon who did the biopsy, but let’s go over this again, shall we?” He looked up briefly, then continued. “The good news is that DCIS is an early-stage cancer that is contained within the lobules or ducts, and that virtually all women treated for DCIS are cured. The bad news is that we’ve found cancer in multiple areas of your breast. That fact, combined with your family history of cancer, leads me to recommend a mastectomy.” He leaned forward on the desk, meshed his fingers together and waited for her reaction.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” he said after a few moments. “Do you have any questions about what I just said?”

  Ariana shook her head. “No. I’ve had a couple of days to think about this.” She held up one fingers. “That’s not quite correct. I’ve had four years to think about it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She motioned to the file in front of him. “My sister died from breast cancer four years ago, as you know, and at that time I decided that when my turn came, I’d have a mastectomy.”

  The oncologist bristled. “It’s not always a foregone conclusion, you know.”

  Ariana decided in that moment that he was a good man. He hated the disease almost as much as she did, and she admired him for that.

  “I understand” she said, softening her tone, “but as the young people say, it is what it is, and now I have to deal with it.”

  “A good attitude.” He returned his attention to the file on his desk. “Now let’s run over your options.”

  “Excuse me doctor, but before we do that, there’s one more thing. I’d like you... or whoever does the surgery... to perform a double mastectomy. In the research I’ve done they called it a bilateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction.”

  He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You sound awfully sure.”

  “I am.” She met his gaze unflinchingly.

  “I must say I admire the way you’re dealing with this. I’ll have my office put things in motion to set up the surgery. They’ll get in touch with you, but in the meantime I want you to take the weekend to think about this.”

  “I’m not going to change my mind.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “I believe that. But this is one of my requirements. No regrets later, all right?”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Okay. Now this is where we go over the details. You’ll get this all in writing from the girls out front, but this is life changing surgery. Stop me if you have any questions.”

  Half an hour later Ariana left the doctor’s office, her hands full of paperwork and her head spinning. It really would have been helpful to have Jeremey along... there was so much to remember. But in spite of the fact that her husband had been a no-show she felt lighter, and no, she told herself, that wasn’t a joke.

  ARIANA HAD SO MUCH to do she didn’t quite know where to start. The doctor had been specific about the medical aspects of her after-care; they were more involved than she’d anticipated, but they all made sense. What was a little overwhelming was the number of things she’d have to arrange for day-to-day living. She’d learned today that she couldn’t rely on Jeremy, and Jodi had a business to run, so she needed to consider hiring someone to help her for the first few weeks. She’d taken a quick glance at the lengthy list of things she’d be unable to do by herself, and it was those everyday chores that brought the entire situation into focus. She was about to wage war, and a good general was always prepared. But perhaps... just for one more day... she’d clear her mind by going to her favourite bench along Dallas Road.

  So much for clearing my mind, she thought, brushing her wind-tousled hair from her face. Who did I think I was kidding? Tears burned behind her eyes and she was tempted to let them loose. Always striving to be the perfect wife, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. But this was neither the time nor the place. She’d have plenty of time to cry after the surgery. Not for her lost breasts, but for her lost marriage. Because even before she heard Jeremy’s excuse, she accepted that her marriage was over.

  She couldn’t remember the last time they’d made love. When had he stopped caring? And just as importantly, when had she given up trying? She hated to admit failure in any aspect of her life, but today of all days demanded the cold, hard truth. She’d sensed him slipping away for some time now, but they’d been busy as one of Victoria’s power couples: smiling, successful, and always seen in the right places. They had become the face of Cambridge Realty, and in so doing, had lost their own identities. Could it be as simple as that?

  Ariana knew other couples in similar situations who still seemed very much in love. You could tell by the small touches, the lingering looks across a room, full of promise for later in the evening. She and Jeremy hadn’t shared that kind of relationship for far too long. They’d had it once, at least she thought they’d had it, but somewhere between “I do” and now, it had slipped away, and she wasn’t sure it could be recaptured.

  They’d honeymooned on the Gulf Islands, between Victoria and the mainland. The elegant resort had catered to their every need, with their fine dining restaurant and luxurious spa services. Rock climbing and walks on the beach followed by a relaxing drink in front of the fireplace in their room had suited Ariana’s need to be alone with the man she loved. But even then Jeremy had been anxious to get back to civilization. A salesman by nature, he couldn’t stand to be away from people for too long. It saddened her now to realize that she’d never been enough for him. Maybe in a few months, when the surgery was past and she was healed, they could consider re-visiting the islands. But somehow she didn’t think that was likely.

  Chapter Seven

  BLAINE COULDN’T BELIEVE he was back here for the third day in a row. What was he, some sort of lovesick teenager? And yet he couldn’t have stopped himself today if he’d tried – so he didn’t. When he jogged by yesterday the empty bench should have been enough, but he was a sucker for punishment.

  Although today, this was punishment of a different kind. This was the sweet agony of wanting someone and knowing he couldn’t have her. Because yesterday, when he’d been rushing back to the studio, he’d seen her face on the side of a bus and it had clicked. Along with that smarmy looking guy, she was the face of Cambridge Realty. He knew of them; they handled most of the high-ticket waterfront estates that graced the shoreline.

  Yet since seeing her the other day, he’d been unable to get her out of his mind. It was insane – he knew that, but he needed to see her once more. Everybody knew those ads were photo shopped; she couldn’t possibly be as lovely as her picture, or as delicately fragile as he remembered. If he could just see her once more, he’d get her out of his system. Besides, he had a date with Amber tonight, and no matter how long he’d been without a woman, he still held to his principles. Let the others brag about juggling two or three women at once; that wasn’t his style. He was a one-woman man, and God help him but he ached for this one.

  A flash of colour caught his eye as he rounded the bend and the bench came into view. He slowed to a walk and carried on, his heart in his mouth.

  He wasn’t sure if he was projecting his own emotions onto her, but she looked troubled today. She was staring out to sea again, and doing that vague rocking motion. Back and forth, as though making a momentous decision. He knew her name now... Ariana. It suited her perfectly.

  “Excuse me, please.” An older woman brushed past, her eyes flickering to the tattoo on his bicep. He stepped aside, unaware that he’d been blocking the pathway. Partially hidden behind one of the wind-sculpted bushes, he watched Ariana get up. Small and delicate, she looked as though a sudden gust of wind might blow her off the cliff. Head down, she almost walked into the older woman. “I’m sorry,” he heard her murmur softly. “I wasn’t paying attention.” Her voice must be magic, because it ente
red his ears, wrapped around his heart and continued to his groin. That was it! This obsession had to stop, and right now. She offered the woman a vague smile, brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and crossed the grass toward a row of parked cars.

  Blaine refused to look. If he saw which car was hers, he’d be scouring the streets hoping to catch a glimpse of her, and that just wouldn’t do. He waited several moments until he was sure she was gone and then jogged back to his own vehicle.

  He climbed into his car, slammed the door and dropped his head back on the headrest. He was right... she didn’t look like the photo on the side of the bus. That photo had robbed her of her incandescent beauty. There was something inside her that glowed, and it tore him apart that he’d never see it close up.

  His phone vibrated and he grabbed it impatiently. “Ur 1pm appt is here”. He groaned aloud and smashed his fist against the steering wheel. He was never late for an appointment. “On my way” he texted back. Time to return to the real world.

  Chapter Eight

  ONE MORE BRIDGE TO cross, thought Ariana, and then I can go home. She pulled out of the parking space and continued around the waterfront, headed for Uplands.

  Jacqueline Beaumont was her grandmother on her mother’s side. Raised in a wealthy family, Jackie had never wanted for anything. But somewhere along the line, she’d learned respect for those around her, a trait she had passed on to Ariana from a young age.

  Jackie Beaumont was variously described as “an elegant dowager”, “one of a kind”, and “one helluva poker player” by those who knew her, but to Ariana she was a grandmother who loved her unconditionally. There was something soothing about visiting Jackie for tea. Since the age of ten, Ariana had been allowed to choose her own cup and saucer from the priceless collection in the breakfront, and never once had Jackie cautioned her to be careful. That, among other things, made her grandmother special in Ariana’s eyes.

  “Sorry to just show up, Gran.” Jackie looked as though she was expecting company, but then she always appeared perfectly put together. Her silver-white hair was brushed straight back, curling softly behind her ears. “There’s no reason to look like Aunt Bea,” she’d said once to Ariana, who hadn’t caught the reference, but looked it up the instant she got home. Diamond earrings twinkled at her ears, and a long strand of glowing South Seas pearls hung at her throat.

  “My dear girl, you know you’re always welcome.” Piercing grey eyes examined Ariana, and then looked away. “You’ll stay for tea, of course.”

  The familiar routine of tea was just what Ariana needed. Besides, she hadn’t eaten yet today, and one of the things she’d noticed on the lists she was given was that she should eat well before her surgery. Healthy bodies heal faster, or something like that. It made sense.

  “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the sunroom while I ask Maisie to bring us some tea. She made some lemon squares yesterday; I think you’ll like them.”

  Her grandmother’s sunroom was Ariana’s favourite spot in the world. Sinking into a brightly coloured squashy cushion, she recalled her childhood belief that nothing bad could happen in this room. The windows must be a pain to keep clean, looking out over the ocean as they did, but Jackie had plenty of staff to ensure that the impressive view was never impeded by salt spray. Just last week one of Ariana’s customers had been interested in buying a property in the area. She had checked comparative sales on properties in the area, and based on the amount of land, age of the home, and square footage, her grandmother’s home was worth north of four million. Perhaps more, depending on the buyer. And yet she could often be seen kneeling in her flower beds, sun hat firmly on her head, pulling weeds.

  “But Gran, you have a full time gardener to do that,” Ariana cried the last time she’d come upon her in the garden.

  “Don’t you start,” Ariana. The grey-violet eyes had flashed with annoyance. “Alejandro has plenty of other things to do. It’s not as if I’m putting him out of a job.”

  The fact was, Jacqueline Beaumont had far more staff than she really needed. Loyal to a fault, they all adored her. She knew intimate details about their families and often went out of her way to help them, including bringing them into her household. Her generosity of spirit was one more reason Ariana loved her so much.

  Jackie settled across from her now and fixed her with a piercing stare. “I’m waiting,” she said finally. “You’ve come to tell me something, so out with it.”

  “You know me too well, Gran.”

  “Hmmm.”

  Fighting tears, Ariana raised her head. If she was going to cry, this was the safe place to do it, but she’d rather not. “I have cancer.”

  A quick, hissing intake of breath was Jackie’s only response. Ariana watched her fight for composure.

  “I won’t insult you by asking if you’re sure, but...” She hesitated. “Are you sure, my dear?”

  “Yes. I’ve had the biopsy, and I’ve just come from seeing the oncology surgeon.”

  “I see.” She looked up as Maisie brought the tea tray. “Just put it anywhere, Maisie,” she said, uncharacteristically abrupt; Ariana knew she’d apologize later.

  Jackie rose and walked aimlessly around the room, fingering the tropical plants as she went. “I suppose I should have expected this,” she said, her voice unnaturally bright. “After your mother, and your sister...” Her voice trailed off, and she paused in front of the window for several long moments, lost in thought.

  “I never did understand why it started with your mother,” she said at long last. “Why not me?” She turned back and sat down. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to make this about me, but I always wondered, you see. It has to start somewhere, I suppose. I just hoped you would be spared.”

  Ariana edged forward on her chair and took her grandmother’s hand. “The difference is, I don’t intend to die, Gran. The surgeon says that my cancer is non-invasive at this point and I’m going to ensure that it stays that way.”

  Jackie frowned.

  “I’m going to have a bilateral mastectomy. Based on our family history and the fact that the cancer was in two places within my breast, I was going to need a unilateral mastectomy anyway.” She swallowed as the enormity of her decision washed over her. “I have a long life ahead of me Gran, and I don’t want to live it in fear. The doctor agrees that it’s a wise choice.” Her grandmother’s hands were cold, and she rubbed them gently. “I have a lot to do yet, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around. When I come out of surgery, I’ll look just the same, because these days it’s possible to do the reconstructive surgery immediately after.”

  “Just the same,” echoed Jackie with tears in her eyes. “Of course you’ll be just the same. None of us are defined by our body parts, in spite of what today’s young people think. You’re going to come out of this a stronger woman.” Her eyes glowed. “Now let’s have a cup of tea while you give me all the details.”

  Ariana left nothing out. Her grandmother listened quietly, and Ariana could see her filing the information away. She asked a few insightful questions, and Ariana answered to the best of her ability, making a few notes on things she needed to find out for herself.

  “And what about Jeremy?” asked Jackie. “Where does he fit in?”

  “Good question.” Ariana forced herself to meet her grandmother’s eyes. “He didn’t show up for the appointment today.” She broke eye contact. “He said he’d be there, but I’m tired of making excuses for him, Gran. I don’t think he intended to come at all.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” It was no secret that Jackie Beaumont despised Jeremy Logan.

  “Nothing.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  “Not yet, anyway. This operation and the healing afterward are going to take all of my energy. I refuse to let Jeremy get in the way of that.”

  “Fair enough. You know you’re welcome to stay here. I could bring someone in to take care of you.” Jackie looked hope
ful.

  “Thanks, Gran, but I’d like to do this myself. Excuse me if I sound corny, but I’m looking at this as the beginning of the rest of my life.” It was Ariana’s turn to rise and walk to the windows. When she finally spoke, her voice was dream-like. “I’m not even sure if I want to continue selling real estate. It’s such a thankless job, and I don’t know who’s worse, the buyers or the other realtors.”

  “Jeremy wouldn’t like that. You’re the number one team on the south island.”

  Ariana whirled around. “Know what, Gran? I don’t care. What do you think of that?”

  Jackie grinned. “Congratulations.” She sat up a bit straighter. “And if you decide to sell your portion of the business, let me know. You’ll need someone good to negotiate for you, and I have just the person.”

  “Of course you do. I take it he’s good.”

  “It’s a woman. Her friends call her The Barracuda. I won’t tell you what her adversaries call her.”

  A slow smile spread across Ariana’s face. “Is there anyone you don’t know?”

  “I doubt it, my dear. More tea?”

  Chapter Nine

  ARIANA PAUSED FOR A moment between the stone pillars that flanked the entrance to Jackie’s estate. She had a lot of reading and studying to do, but visiting her grandmother had left her feeling surprisingly buoyant. She and Jeremy lived nearby on Newport Drive, but she wasn’t ready to go home yet, so instead she turned right, heading toward the University. Cambridge Realty had several active listings in the area, and it was time for her weekly check on the signs. Nothing bothered her more than a poorly placed sign, or worse yet, one that wasn’t upright.

  Located on beautifully landscaped lots and tucked in among towering firs, the homes in the area were in demand. Narrow, winding streets snaked through the area, ensuring that traffic moved at a sedate pace. Very little life was evident, but that was normal at this time of day. The residents were no doubt at work, earning money to service their considerable mortgages.