I imagine him in the hospital with Ava, waiting for her to wake, talking to her, telling her how sorry he was, maybe holding her hand, comforting her. From the small part of his conversation with the doctor I’d paid attention to, I knew he must have taken over her care. It was right that he had. It was the least he could do. Yet, that small gesture, combined with the way he’d fallen apart when he’d learned of the attack… it makes me sad, and that scares me. The fact that even though a woman is hurt, my most overwhelming emotion is jealousy and suspicion that she still held a part of Landon’s heart.
I climb into bed and fall asleep almost immediately. I don’t wake up until Landon slides in beside me, his skin cool from his shower. His arm encircles me, his chest a firm, hard wall against my back.
“Landon,” I whisper his name, turning to face him.
“Shhh,” he whispers, kissing me. His hand slides down my naked body, heating my skin. I kiss him back, wanting him with a desperation that I can’t explain.
His hands shake as he caresses me. He presses my body against his, as if he’ll never let me go. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely as he makes love to me. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” I whisper back, holding him tight and praying that he somehow manages to exorcise the ghosts torturing him.
THE next morning, he leaves the suite early, probably to go back to the hospital. I have a grapefruit for breakfast before I switch on the TV. Ava Sinclair’s stabbing is a big part of the local news. The attack on the glamorous, thrice-divorced socialite by her unstable brother, and the billionaire ex-lover and owner of the hotel where the attack took place who came immediately to the rescue; it’s like a soap opera, one I don’t find particularly entertaining.
I put off the TV, not willing to watch anymore. I call Claude Devin and ask for Jules McDaniel’s phone number. He gets it for me almost immediately. Jules sounds delighted to hear from me and invites me over.
Their house is a charming two story in a gated community. Cameron is at home, and Jules is obviously at the last stages of her pregnancy. We catch up and have lunch on the terrace before Cameron leaves for work. Neither of them bring up the case that’s all over the news. It’s as if they know how badly I want to escape it, and I’m infinitely grateful for that.
When I get back to the suite, Landon is alone. He’s standing by the windows, drinking from a glass clinking with ice. I have time to look at him, and I see the utter exhaustion in his frame before he turns around and sees me.
His face relaxes into an expression that looks like relief. “I wondered where you were,” he says, his voice soft.
From his face, I can see what he suspected, that maybe I’d left him again. “Claude could have told you. I went to see Jules.”
“How is she?” he asks, his eyes softening.
> “Ready to pop.”
His lips lift in a small smile and he takes a step towards me. “I…” he looks down at his glass. “Would you like something to drink?”
I shake my head. “How is she?”
He knows I’m talking about Ava. “She’s doing great. Evans is still missing, but many people are trying to find him. He wanted some more money, it seems, and when he found out she met with me in New York, it drove him crazy enough to hurt her.”
I sigh, wishing the whole situation would somehow resolve itself as quickly as possible. “What will happen when they find him?”
Landon’s face hardens. “He’ll never hurt anyone again.”
The conviction in his expression is hard to look at. I can’t help thinking how he refused to do anything when Evans tried to hurt him, but obviously, with Ava, the rules are different. I swallow the lump in my throat. “When are we leaving?”
“As soon as you’re ready.”
The journey back to New York is another quiet one. Landon falls asleep almost immediately, probably from the stress. I find a book on my ereader and try to read, until I too, doze off.
At the apartment, we have an early dinner, still in silence. I have so much I want to say, but I don’t know where to start. I don’t even know if I want to say the things on my mind. When his nightmare wakes both of us a few hours later, I find myself wondering whom he’s trying to save this time, Ava or me.
WHEN distance grows between two people, sometimes it’s almost palpable, in the silence, in the polite words, the total lack of real intimacy. I bury myself in my work, unable to find the words to tell Landon how I feel about Ava’s attack and his reaction to it.
On his part, I know he’s also working extra hard by how exhausted he is at night. How he falls asleep immediately after we make love, how he doesn’t have the energy to get up during the night as he usually does, and his nightmares wake the both of us.
Three days after we returned from San Francisco, he stops coming to bed at all, preferring to remain in his study all night. It’s because of the nightmares, I tell myself, not because anything I feared would happen when he went to see Ava actually happened. Not because he can no longer bear to be with me when he’d rather be with her, comforting her, helping her get better.
The Friday morning, when he tells me over breakfast that he’s planning to see a new therapist and has booked an appointment, I only nod silently. I feel almost as if he’s a stranger, a stranger I love with my whole being, but a stranger nonetheless. I feel as if we’re separated by a wall of silence, and I don’t know if the words I have will break the walls or make them thicker.
Later that day, I leave work early for an appointment with my ob-gyn, who confirms that I’m pregnant. I no longer have any reason not to tell Landon. No reason, except the ghost of Ava Sinclair and her brother hanging over us like a permanent fixture in our lives.
When I get to the Swanson Court, there’s a book launch and signing holding in one of the banquet halls, and a lot of fans and publishing industry types are coming and going through the lobby. After a short hesitation where I consider going to buy a book and getting it signed. I move on to the elevators, the possible long wait discouraging me.
The elevator opens almost as soon as I press the call button and I step inside, impatient to leave the crowded lobby. At the last moment, someone steps inside with me, and I look up just as the doors close to find myself staring at Evans Sinclair’s malevolent face.