Did you really think I was going to leave you in peace? Poor Catherine wrung her hands and wept, for she thought to herself, 'When my lady comes back and sees all this ruin she will think it is my fault,' and starting up, she fled through the open door. Then Destiny took all the pieces and made them whole again, and put them back in the press, and when everything was tidy she too left the house. When the mistress reached home she called Catherine, but no Catherine was there.
She wondered why Catherine should have disappeared like this, but she heard no more of her, and in a few days she filled her place. Meanwhile Catherine wandered on and on, without knowing very well where she was going, till at last she came to another town. Just as before, a noble lady happened to see her passing her window, and called out to her, 'Where are you going all alone, my pretty girl?
And Catherine answered, 'Ah, my lady, I am very poor, and must go to service to earn my bread. But, exactly as before, one day that Catherine was left in the house alone her Destiny came again and spoke to her with hard words: 'What!
And so it befell for seven years, and directly Catherine found a fresh place her Destiny came and forced her to leave it. After seven years, however, Destiny seemed to get tired of persecuting her, and a time of peace set in for Catherine. When she had been chased away from her last house by Destiny's wicked pranks she had taken service with another lady, who told her that it would be part of her daily work to walk to a mountain that overshadowed the town, and, climbing up to the top, she was to lay on the ground some loaves of freshly baked bread, and cry with a loud voice, 'O Destiny, my mistress,' three times.
Then her lady's Destiny would come and take away the offering. So the years went by, and Catherine was still there, and every day she climbed the mountain with her basket of bread on her arm. She was happier than she had been, but sometimes, when no one saw her, she would weep as she thought over her old life, and how different it was to the one she was now leading.
One day her lady saw her, and said, 'Catherine, what is it? Why are you always weeping? Perhaps something may come of it! At these words Catherine dried her eyes, and next morning, when she climbed the mountain, she told all she had suffered, and cried, 'O Destiny, my mistress, pray, I entreat you, of my Destiny that she may leave me in peace.
And Destiny answered, 'Oh, my poor girl, know you not your Destiny lies buried under seven coverlids, and can hear nothing? But if you will come to-morrow I will bring her with me. And after Catherine had gone her way her lady's Destiny went to find her sister, and said to her, 'Dear sister, has not Catherine suffered enough? It is surely time for her good days to begin?
And the sister answered, 'To-morrow you shall bring her to me, and I will give her something that may help her out of her need.
The next morning Catherine set out earlier than usual for the mountain, and her lady's Destiny took the girl by the hand and led her to her sister, who lay under the seven coverlids. And her Destiny held out to Catherine a ball of silk, saying, 'Keep this--it may be useful some day;' then pulled the coverings over her head again.
But Catherine walked sadly down the hill, and went straight to her lady and showed her the silken ball, which was the end of all her high hopes. A little while after this grand preparations were made for the king's marriage, and all the tailors in the town were busy embroidering fine clothes. The wedding garment was so beautiful nothing like it had ever been seen before, but when it was almost finished the tailor found that he had no more silk.
The colour was very rare, and none could be found like it, and the king made a proclamation that if anyone happened to possess any they should bring it to the court, and he would give them a large sum. Bring it to the king, and you can ask what you like for it. Then Catherine put on her best clothes and went to the court, and looked more beautiful than any woman there. The king agreed, and a pair of scales were brought; and a handful of gold was placed in one scale and the silken ball in the other.
I couldn't watch any longer I could feel blood in my palm,I already gave myself injury my blood was boiling I wanted to murder the boy that kissed reth, I stood up to go home but my body kept pushing me back to the school party,I didn't want to leave Reth alone in school so I went back when I saw she was already in one of the classes. On my way to see her,the guy who kissed reth crossed my part and I couldn't control my anger I punched him unexpectedly,his nose and jaw were bleeding,I wanted to disfigure his lips so he would never try it again, people came to separate us and I saw Reth,she looks so disappointed.
I felt embarrassed,and I left the scene. What if she never wante. After that day, Peter's family and my family became very close,Sometimes Peter would visit me. At first i was a little bit uncomfortable but with time I adjusted to it. He would follow me back from school before going back to his own house. Though we weren't dating,our new relationship was like that of siblings,and I was his junior sister even though we were born the same day.
And besides I have only one year in high school, our third term party the school made me kiss a person all in the name of game,I didn't take it personal, because it was. Anna pov After Peter came to look for me, I hurried outside. There were many hair dressers outside. Why would anyone need my attention, maybe it's not for hairdressing. On getting there I saw a girl standing,she looks so familiar,I couldn't believe my eyes rethabile was here in person,I was so nervous I didn't know how to approach her,she hasn't changed a bit,she still looks and behaves like she just opened her eyes for the first time.
She loves staring at things, and right from when she was little she found it hard to communicate with anyone,not even her siblings,I tried holding back the tears in my eyes. I am finally seeing my daughter after many years. I know she might not remember me,but I would do anything for her hug right now.
She saw me coming and then tried to dress herself,I noticed dust and dirt on her clothes but all I just wa. My weirdness was getting out of hand, First I fell down because someone yelled at me and now I hugged a stranger. The lady just stared at me,with a satisfied look on her face,she just smiled and led me to the shop,she made my hair while smiling like I did or said something funny, or maybe she was thinking of something, she made my hair perfectly, it was like she read my mind,I couldn't tell her what I wanted to make because I was embarrassed.
She told me to stay for a while,I couldn't resist I sat down like an obedient dog waiting to be fed,peter tried starting a conversation but I was busy trying to recall where I saw that face,or heard such voice,how can peter and his mother make me nervous the same time,maybe it's in the family,I wonder my reaction when I see his father,I might bow before him or worse.
Peter and his mother followed me to my house, I was so nervo. Though I promised myself to get A's next term, during holiday I made sure I visited the state library two times a week. Though I don't go alone,my mom would never let me go to the library by myself. I wanted to a doctor,but am really scared of blood it freaks me out, and I really don't like biology,I prefer physics and maths,to other subjects,so I decided to go for engineering,I studied physics more than I study other subjects,it's more like an adventurous novel to me.
Two weeks to school resumption ,I was prepared. I ironed my uniform, washed my socks and bag,I couldn't wait to go back to school,my house was very boring,if not for the fact that I decided to visit the library or read at home I would have gone crazy,my siblings will go out,thereby leaving me at home because I had no friends to play with. My weirdness was getting out of hand. First I fell down because someone yelled at me and now hugged a stranger. The lady stared at me, with a satisfied look on her face, she just smiled and led me to the shop, my fidgeting body found its way on a chair just before me.
As she braided my hair My mind went far and wide for answers, as I surveyed every corner of her face. I haven't seen her for sure, but maybe this feeling was just there because I have a crush on her son. I won't attest to the fact that she looked like Jamal.
She braids my hair, with so much tenderness and I wonder if she is just this sweet, or if it's in the family. I was expecting a lot of detangling but she must be skilled in what she does. After the coaxing, I was told to wait.
I sat down like an obedient dog waiting to be fed, he had tried starting a conversation but I was busy trying to recall where I saw that face or heard such a voice, how can Jamal and his mother make me nerv. Welcome to Goodnovel world of fiction. If you like this novel, or you are an idealist hoping to explore a perfect world, and also want to become an original novel author online to increase income, you can join our family to read or create various types of books, such as romance novel, epic reading, werewolf novel , fantasy novel, history novel and so on.
If you are a reader, high quality novels can be selected here. If you are an author, you can obtain more inspiration from others to create more brilliant works, what's more, your works on our platform will catch more attention and win more adimiration from readers. Home Other Confused Destiny. Confused Destiny Other. By: Presh Ongoing. Language: English.
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Bestselling author Lisa Suzanne 's forbidden romance series pits a rock star against his business mogul brother.
Reserved and responsible Reese Brady refuses to miss her chance with bad boy rock star Mark Ashton. After one steamy night, she's convinced the emotional connection they shared was just a figment of her imagination. After all, he's a womanizer whose affairs are highly publicized. Reese strives to leave that night behind her after a handsome business mogul asks her to dinner. Her relationship with Brian Fox quickly escalates into something meaningful, but she never expects the secret that emerges when he finally invites her to his penthouse.
She fell in love with a rock star the last time she was there. How could she know she'd fall in love with his brother next? More documents Similar magazines Info. Share from cover. Share from page:. Flag as Inappropriate Cancel. Delete template? I finally clear my throat and blurt the only thing I can think of. But it just feels different. We both did. But can I ask what happened to you? But my second thought is that I could use a friend. Some male perspective might help me wade through the hurt swimming in my chest.
My eyes fill with unexpected tears. It started to heal, and then I met someone new, and then he and his brother proceeded to shatter it. I draw in a deep breath. He turned out to be someone I never thought he was. Mark is always present, always in my mind, his name always the word on the tip of my tongue. I throw myself into lesson plans and my new leadership position as I try unsuccessfully to forget about him and everything I went through this summer.
It was more like the Summer of Heartbreak. A few days into the school year, I find an envelope addressed to me in my mailbox with a return address from Chicago. I tear it open, and the front of the card simply says Thanks in scripted font. Reese, Thank you for the flowers.
Your thoughtfulness is appreciated. You hung the sun in his sky. I know there are complications, namely Brian, but take it from someone who recently lost the love of her life. Hugs, Gram I tuck the note into the middle of a notebook and shove it in my desk. Allowing her words to percolate in my mind will only take me back to the past. Are you serious right now? I barely restrain myself from actually using a curse word. I hate my job this year. I blame Mark. I never refollowed any of his social media, but I also never unfollowed his Snapchat.
She texts me almost every day, usually checking in, sometimes funny memes, sometimes just an emoji. My phone buzzes in my pocket just before lunch with a new text. I have exactly four minutes before the bell is going to ring. I slide my phone out of my pocket to check my text. It takes me all of five seconds to invent a lie. Would have been fun. Lizzie: Good, because I lied.
You better not flake on me. I let out a chuckle despite myself. I have to give the girl credit. She knows me better than I realized. Cabana today, buffet for dinner, club tonight.
Drinking, necklaces with plastic dicks all over them, the whole works. Lizzie: A handful of my girls. Me: I work until today. Lizzie: Can you meet us around eight at the buffet at Cosmo? Can I bring a friend? Lizzie: Bring whoever you want. I was with Brian. We gambled, we danced, we almost had public sex, and the entire time, I was thinking about Mark. Funny how much has changed, but one thing still remains the same: Mark is on my mind. I spot Lizzie right away.
Six other women stand behind her. I draw in a sharp breath. Why do we have to be here, of all places, when I have memories here with one brother and memories directly next door with another? The Mandarin Oriental loomed large beside us as we pulled into the Cosmopolitan. Is Mark here in town tonight? Or is he off living his life, performing for a screaming crowd or recording new songs or charming the panties off women everywhere?
Lizzie pulls back and holds me by my biceps. I refuse to cry. Why the hell is one simple question from her making the heat sting behind my eyes? One of the girls in the group hands Jill and me each necklaces with candy shaped like penises. I pull the penis necklace over my head and bite off one of the dicks. Jill and I sit at the end of the table. Mostly I talk to Jill because Lizzie is busy with her other friends— friends who traveled from all over the country to celebrate with her in Vegas.
When Jill excuses herself to the bathroom, though, that sentiment is blown to bits. I stare down at my plate quietly. I look up at her and nod. A month has passed since I left Mark, but nothing has changed. This girl is judging a situation she knows nothing about. I turn hard eyes on Julie as my nostrils flare. But I guess some people might consider that lucky. She stands even though the plate in front of her is filled with food.
She walks over to me and tugs my elbow. We stalk through the buffet and out into the casino. We walk until we end up in some deserted hallway. Her eyes are wide and full of concern. I lift a shoulder and swipe at yet another goddamn tear as it tracks down my cheek.
You two need to find your way back to each other. Plus there was that girl at Sevens. It was all over the internet. I hand her my phone with the first photo pulled up. She cranes her neck and squints. She spreads her fingers over my screen to zoom in, and then she looks up at me. She smiles triumphantly and hands my phone back to me. I asked him if it happened, and he said yes.
I zoom in on the shot with the best view of his hands. And the black shirt? Do you really believe everything you see in pictures, Reese? This proves Mark lied to me. You and Mark belong together. I see the way her brows are drawn together, causing her forehead to wrinkle.
I watch as she twists a few strands of her hair between her fingers. I care about him, of course, and I want him to find happiness. Instead, I turn and head back toward the restaurant, leaving the bride to be staring after me with all that anguish for her brother in her eyes. Music blares around us, bodies bump into me, girls laugh as their drinks splash over the sides of their glasses. Jill is wine drunk, oblivious to my internal struggle.
When I got back to the table after my talk with Lizzie in the hallway, Jill had a fresh glass of wine in her hand. It disappeared before I had the chance to pull her aside, to tell her I wanted to go home.
My heart is stuck on a rooftop in Chicago. I beeline toward the doorway leading to the library room. People mill around, and I remember the last time I was here. We barely knew each other, but I wanted it to happen. I remember the thrills darting through me that this gorgeous and successful man wanted me.
While he never drove Mark out of my head completely, he created a diversion, a way for me to see I could eventually get over the one night I shared with a rock star. I walk over toward the bookcases and pull my phone out of my purse. I open my Uber app and put in my ride request.
Then I head back to the loud room and hug Lizzie. She stops dancing and stops smiling. She follows me out. But right now, I sort of just want to be alone. Have some fun tonight. I think a hundred times every day about calling him, about texting him, about getting in touch with him. Still, even after a month has passed—even after he kicked me out.
But I know you. I just want you to be okay. I just want to be here for you. I just want my life back. She blows out a breath. You keep pushing away everyone who cares about you.
You keep doing what you need to do to fix whatever they broke. I hear the door close and watch as she walks toward me in her cute leggings and tank top combo.
The blanket and pillows are some of the last things left I need to pack. I slept on the couch last night because I already packed my sheets and took apart my bed frame. I think of the card that fell out of a notebook when I was packing my desk yesterday. She perches on the chair across from me. Indefinitely for now.
I love this house. Whether or not she makes good money at her own job, she has a very generous brother with far more money than he can spend on his own. Surely money is something no one in the Fox family ever has to worry about. I love her for giving it to me straight as much as I hate her for the same reason.
You were there when Pops died. You held my hand as we prayed together. She changes the subject. What about a puppy? Brian was calling me at the same time. And with Max, well, Mark just Lizzie giggles.
Our seventeen-yearold cousin Abby. He lost weight. He was withdrawn and quiet, but not quiet like in a peaceful way, quiet in like a cagey way. At least not to my knowledge. She lifts a shoulder. She had a lot of work to do after he was spotted with his arm around Gram, you know. She tilts her head. They looked awfully cozy, and snaps are current images.
I taught him. How long did that take? I had to show him all the different ones and then I had to explain what happens when you post to My Story instead of just sending it to individuals.
He was pretty broken up that day between you, Brian, Gramps, and Steve. What did she look like? She averts her eyes to the window. Oh, they were cheek to cheek and they both looked a little drunk. She pulls out her phone, taps some buttons, and scrolls around. Then she turns her screen around and passes her phone to me. She laughs. As in the woman who releases all the pictures of Mark canoodling women?
Does that make her a second cousin? They started getting popular about the same time she finished her degree. She moved to LA, gained some other clients, and the rest is history. All I know is he looked like shit. He needs you as much as you need him. I have to protect myself.
She motions to me with her other hand. I observe the dynamic between Justin and Alex as we all work to get my belongings on the moving truck.
Instead, she tells us how she needs to stay back to pack a few of her own boxes. Tess showers and heads out for a Saturday night with some of her friends. She invites me, but I just want to stay in and get myself settled.
When I have the essentials unpacked and my bed made, I finally lie down and scroll my phone. His hand is on her neck, and black ink snakes along his skin. Maybe he has moved on. Maybe these are real. I head back to the old house to help Jill the next morning. I sit on the edge of her stripped mattress. She glances up at me and then her gaze returns to her task. You know I love you no matter what. Can I ask you something? Focusing ahead. My heart wrenches in my chest. Brian glances up at me when I walk in.
His face is healed, completely restored back to its original attractiveness, but we all wear scars on our insides now for different reasons. I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine. I will not be made to feel intimidated in my own home.
Moving in with Tess was a bad idea. I sit on a chair across the room from Brian. I feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to look at him. He finally stands and moves across the room, taking a seat on the end of the couch closest to me.
I take a sip of wine and press my lips together. So, no. Do you hang out here a lot? Jason mentioned you were moving in with Tess and I wanted to check on you. Before I knew how much you were screwing me over. I brush the thought away. I feel like Cinderella in my gown as I walk into the banquet hall located just minutes from my school.
As I talk to the two of them, my heart races as I spot dark hair and green eyes across the room chatting with my principal. Jason and Tess follow my line of sight, and as if he can feel our eyes on him, Brian turns and spots us. I blow out a frustrated breath. He looks uncomfortable. Tess puts her arm around my shoulders. I give her a pleading look, but she follows Jason to the bar. I avoid looking directly at him as I pretend to survey the room.
I was acting from a place of jealousy and hatred, and you got caught in the crossfire. For that, I apologize. I hate that I screwed you over so badly. You never deserved that, Reese. Like I believe a damn word out of your lying mouth. We both know the car will bring in a ton of auction money, and it was generous of him. I hurry across the room toward the table where I find Justin and Alex.
Or Brian? She looks impressed. In the end, the second brother orchestrated our entire relationship as a way to get revenge on his brother. I fiddle with the stem of my wineglass. I glance over at Brian and then back at Justin. I narrow my eyes. To my complete and utter horror, Brian pulls out the chair next to Jason.
And this is my girlfriend, Alex Russell. Well this is certainly a scenario I never imagined. I remember thinking it would be strange to sit at a Thanksgiving dinner next to one brother while I pined for the other. I remember thinking Mark and I would share passionate glances across the table while Brian sat beside me. In all those wild scenarios, I never imagined sitting at a school function next to Justin while Brian sat across the table from us as I pined for Mark. He launches into a long spiel about how hard his kids have been working, and we lose Brian and Jason to their own work conversation.
Or so I thought. The truck goes for a cool thirty thousand, but then Mr. Monroe says he has one final item up for auction. I had to ask my daughter, but she filled me in. I know. I immediately know who the singer is, and I can suddenly hear my pulse beating in my ears. Monroe says. The crowded room erupts in noise. I see people turning to those next to them as they figure out a way to pool their money together to win this once in a lifetime experience.
Or my stomach, for that matter, which suddenly feels like it wants to toss its contents. Did he do this for me? Did he do it when we were together or was it after I left him in Chicago?
Is he trying to tell me something? And if he is Monroe says as I stand. I see someone in the back of the room raise a hand as I move toward the door. I step outside for some fresh air when I feel a hand on my arm. I turn around and find myself face to face with Alex. Not my ex, Brian. But Alex. I draw in a deep breath and nod. I put in my time. Will you be at the game tomorrow?
Say bye to Justin for me, okay? About our end and about how he still needs me. I wonder when he wrote the song, when he recorded it and released it. Why he released it solo instead of with Vail. Did he write it before or after he kicked me out of Chicago? Is he doing a solo album? None of this is the solace I was seeking when I unwillingly left Chicago. I blow out a breath as the tears start to subside.
I clutch those last words to my heart. It will only ever be you. A text comes through on my phone. Justin: Alex wants to take you somewhere tonight. You free? Me: Where? Justin: Damn, you guessed it. Me: Not interested.
Invite Jill, too. I focus on trying to feel a little excitement for plans with friends instead of all the other chaos going on in my life at the moment. I call Jill as I resume driving. Her voice fills my car speakers. We hung out at the Homecoming ball and then the game the next night. I mean, part of me will always love him, sure. What time? Come early so we can pre-game.
Instead, I feel like a burden taking over her guest room. I pull on a pair of jeans, pair them with a black shirt, and slide my feet into my Converse. I hear a knock at the door a few minutes later. We each have a few sips, and then another knock lets us know Justin and Alex are here. We drive toward the Strip but take a left instead of a right off the highway.
Justin pulls his car into the parking deck of The Palms, and the four of us get out of the car. The second we step onto the elevator, my heart thumps in my chest. His eyes are twinkling, and I feel like I might vomit right here in this tiny elevator car. He nods as he grins, and then he pulls four tickets out of his back pocket. Goddamn small elevator. Mark is somewhere in the building, sharing the same air as me, the same space.
I wonder if she knows what happened, if she misses the friendship we never got to have. I wonder if Angelique is smug in her knowledge that she was right—I was just another flash in the pan for Mark Ashton.
I wonder if some other woman is standing behind Mark, ready to kiss him before he goes onstage, ready to go home and warm the place beside him in his bed. The thoughts are downright suffocating. Mark stands in the center of the image with Ethan, Steve, and James flanked behind him. The ink on his arms is dark, a stark contrast to the brightness of the sky behind them.
I wish I knew when it was taken. I look at his hands—as I always do now because of Lizzie. The tattoos are there, which means this image was snapped within the past few months. I wonder if it was before me or after me or during me. Was he thinking of me, of us? After the way he made love to me my last day in Chicago, I have to believe I was different.
Jill grabs my arm to pull me out of my trance with this photograph of a man who is so much more to me than just the elusive rock star performing on a stage tonight.
I draw in a deep breath and look up at the ceiling to ward off the tears I know are starting to form. By entering venue, you agree that your image and likeness may be recorded for commercial use.
I clear my throat and look around wildly for a moment before I focus on his face. But I want to see Mark so bad it hurts. The song I heard today on my way home plays in my head. Only Ever You.
Does he still feel that way? Or was it just a song? Another attendant leads us to our seats. Alex nods. Cheers rise up from the crowd in the darkness. The pluck of a guitar string causes the cheers to rise in a crescendo that becomes deafening squeals and screams all around me.
Everyone in my row stands and moves against the wall separating us from the stage—including my friends and me. A single light illuminates a lone figure in the center of the stage, and I immediately recognize his lean frame.
Fog rises up from beneath him, casting him in a cloud lit only by a soft, blue light. I stare at him, memorize him from where I stand. His eyes are focused on his instrument. He strums his fingers along the strings, and I recognize the song as one of my favorites. I can almost smell the sandalwood and peppermint from here if I try hard enough. I can almost feel his arms around me again. Seeing him there in all his glory, professional as always, doing what he loves to do, doing what he lives for People are dancing beside me and behind me.
Justin sways to the beat on my right and Jill belts out the words on my left. The crowd pumps fists in the air in unison on the refrain as they shout the words, but I stand stock still as I watch him.
First impressions told me he was fine, but the longer I watch him, the more I start to find the cracks. I wonder if Morgan and Angelique are here, backstage critiquing or even doing it from here in the crowd somewhere. I glance around for them, but then I brush the thought aside as I listen to his voice.
Maybe he has a cold, or it could be the sound system. My eyes trail down his body. I want to know if he looks tired and withdrawn up close like Lizzie said. The second and third songs are from their first album, but then they play a cover. With me? Is he talking about me, thinking about me as he sings those words?
Or is his band just covering a golden oldie? His eyes are closed as his hand strokes the mic stand, up and down, up and down. He grips the microphone before he repeats the process. His voice gets deep and gritty, but then he bellows out the words with all the pent-up emotion of a man who lost the love of his life. This is the Mark I know, the one who loves hard and passionately. My heart aches. Justin mistakes my silence for not hearing him.
He puts his arm around my shoulder to pull me a little closer to him so I can hear him when he asks again. When he glances up from his focus on his guitar and his eyes meet mine for the first time since I left his condo in Chicago, actual tears begin to fall down my cheeks. I watch as his eyes widen in surprise to see me here. Is it just my imagination? Hope blooms in my chest. We can stop wasting time now.
I was stupid to leave and he was stupid to push me away, but we can be smarter going forward. Old emotions fire up in my chest—feelings I long buried with the death of what we had.
Feelings I left on a rooftop in Chicago. Feelings that belong between Mark and me. He focuses on everything and everyone around me after that, purposely avoiding my eyes. He bellows out the first few bars, and then his eyes meet mine again. I hang onto every single syllable as his voice fills with pent-up emotions he never shares with anyone yet somehow shares with everyone through his music.
I didn't know what love was, didn't know what pain was Until you I didn't know what love was, didn't know what hate was Until you He glances away from me after he repeats the refrain. Not when I know he wrote them thinking of me—hating me or loving me or something in between. I wind up in the bathroom, Jill close on my tail as sobs erupt out of my chest. What does that say about the hope I allowed myself to feel for a few glorious moments?
Jill rubs my back, but it does nothing to comfort me. I just want to be alone. I push her away from me. Are you kidding me? Did you fucking hear what he just said? He meant me. He wrote an entire song about how I fucked him up. I hear cheering as I make my way up some stairs and find myself out in the casino.
She pulls me into a hug. I never told either of you. I shrug. I press my lips together. I love you and I miss you. Thank you for coming tonight. With a guy. Nearly naked. Having what sounds like pretty good sex. I look at Jill and roll my eyes, and she just shakes her head. I close the door and back away. We walk over to the stairs leading up to the second floor apartments and sit next to each other on the third step.
It might actually keep you from banging on your couch whenever you want. Jill chuckles. I glance over at her then turn my gaze down to the ground. I had a minute there where I felt all this hope for us, but then She drives for a few minutes and then we end up at the International House of Pancakes.
Pancakes were our thing back in high school. Sometimes it was just the two of us, and other times we had a big group of friends. She grins at me and gets out of the car. I scramble to follow her inside, glad to have my best friend back. Thoughts of Mark on that stage haunt me as my seniors work on a timed essay during the last period of the day. Who would be calling me during school hours? I leave my phone in my pocket, hating the impatience I feel at not knowing who it is.
When the bell rings and the last student leaves the room, I finally slip my phone out of my pocket to see who the missed call is from.
Brian Fox. Why the hell would Brian Fox be calling me? Good—I hope he does think that. A tremor of fear darts through my belly. That tremor follows me as I go through my end of the day routine. I pick up bits of paper kids dropped on the floor, gather a stray pencil and stick it in the box in the front of my room. I erase my white board in the silence of an empty classroom.
The whole time, that tremor sits in the pit of my stomach as it spreads like an infection to my bloodstream. Why the hell did Brian Fox call me?
I begin drafting a text message. Saw your call. I backspace and start over. Did you mean to call me? Is something wrong? I feel it in my bones. Something bad happened. I always used to think bad things only happened in the middle of the night. I think back to those simple college days, when the biggest decision of my day was whether I wanted to drink rum or vodka that night. When Shelby Anderson drank too much and had to have her stomach pumped, guess what time it was?
When Johnny Bates was arrested for getting into a fight at a bar, guess what time it was? I hold onto the false sense of security in the daylight as I look out the window for a beat at the cloudless sky and the palm trees just outside. I avert my eyes from the window and open a browser on my phone. I search Mark Ashton and click the news button.
I choke on something in the back of my throat. I know what that means. I push my pride aside. I want Mark to be okay with everything in my being. I glance at the clock on the top of my phone. Forty-six minutes have passed since he called. My phone starts buzzing in my palm, and I nearly drop it as it startles me. I stare at the name on my screen.
I accept the call with a deep breath. He sighs heavily. I just saw him on Friday. What happened since then? His voice is full of emotion that shocks me into needing to keep him on the line. I swallow, try to clear my throat, but nothing helps to dislodge the lump back there.
I know I took it too far. I think you might be the only one who can get through to him. The only thing that does seem important is getting to Mark as quickly as I can. I need to see him with my own two eyes. I busy myself on the flight with lesson plans for the next two days.
All I know is I need to get to him. I stare out the window at the scenery as the car takes me from the airport to the hospital. When we finally arrive at the same hospital where Pops passed away not so long ago, I text Vinny. Vinny meets me at the entrance with a nod.
I throw my arms around him. I nod, desperate for more—desperate for the truth. We wind through a series of hallways until we find his floor. Each step matches the pounding echo of my heart. We walk all the way down to the very last door where a uniformed police officer sits.
He eyes me shrewdly and nods to Vinny, who reaches for the doorknob. How can you ever prepare for this moment? He nods then opens the door. He looks like my Mark, though he looks like an exhausted, weaker version of the man I love. His eyes are sunken deep into his pale face. He looks away from me as he refocuses his eyes out the window. The rasp I recognized behind his lyrics on Friday night was because of whatever this is.
Seeing him like this—like the man I love but at the same time not—causes the fissures in my heart that I thought might be starting to mend to split wide open again. I expect him to give me some sort of acknowledgment, a wry smile or even a look of shame to validate my innuendo, but all he does is lift a shoulder without looking at me.
I glance around the huge hospital room. Only the best for a celebrity who needs help, I suppose. A nurse is busy with a stack of papers near a counter on one side of the room. Vinny steps back out into the hallway to give us the illusion of privacy. I force one foot in front of the other. I choose the chair next to the bed instead. I reach for his hand, but he pulls it away. He lifts both brows. I nod slowly.
His voice is cold and hard. The nurse glances over at us. She told me to get in touch with you. What was I supposed to do? He looks at her. Or you. You have everything going for you—talent, money, fame.
Why are you on this path of self-destruction? I catch his hidden meaning, and it breaks my heart. I stand from my chair and sit on the edge of his bed.
I take one of his hands between both of mine. Becky steps over and does something to his IV bag before tapping some information into a computer. I hold his hand as I sit on his bed, staring at the man I love as I wonder where the hell we go from here. I carefully untangle my fingers from his and stand. I close my eyes in pain for a beat at his words. This is my fault. Mark admitted as much when he said he was looking for something that makes him feel the same way I made him feel.
She glances at her watch. She looks at Ethan and points at him with a glare. Both devastatingly handsome bad boys with a proclivity for sex.
Becky rolls her eyes and looks at me. I give Ethan a pointed glare then walk back to the bed. I sit in the chair beside it and slide my phone out of my pocket. Mark jolts awake in the bed a few minutes later. I drop my phone with a clatter onto the table beside his bed and stand as he pants out a breath. Becky rushes over. He looks gratefully at me and nods. He gulps it down and hands the cup back to me, and Becky starts poking and prodding at him to check his vitals. Becky rolls her eyes. Sorry Charlie?
Becky blushes and taps some notes on the computer. He glances up at me. He blows out a heavy sigh. Maybe I should leave. All I know is the second Brian told me where Mark was, I needed to be by his side. Getting Mark out of this hospital needs to be our sole focus. Everything else can come later. Ethan takes off and Lizzie arrives shortly after. Her eyes speak of the surprise she feels in seeing me here, but she gives me a big hug.
He nods with innocence, and I get the feeling she knows the truth just like Brian did. He has weaknesses just like everyone despite his status as a god of rock.
Fair warning, you may want to fake sleep when she gets here. I smile awkwardly at him. I lift a shoulder as I wonder exactly how much he knows about what happened between me and his two sons.
I decide to give Brian the credit he deserves here. We both glance over at him. When Diane got the text from Mark that he was cleared for visitors, we were on our way home from an evening out. Lizzie steps closer to me so we can have a quiet conversation of our own. What does that mean? I have so much I want to say to him, but I have no idea where to begin.
I chuckle at the photo of Mark and Brian standing next to Beavis and Butt-head that greets me near her entry. He turns off the television. Dave grins.
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