Page 29 of Love What's Left
Someone like me having a nest egg makes no sense. “What did I d-do to make money?”
“You’re a chemical engineer for one of our companies.”
Anxiety spikes inside me, the weight in my chest turning to solid concrete. A wall slams down inside so fast I can almost hear the clang of metal. “I don’t know anything. About chemistry.”
He runs a hand over my hair. “It could come back, but if it doesn’t, you can do something else, or you could learn it again. The cards and flowers on the table in the front hall are from your friends and co-workers.”
“I don’t want to talk to them. Keep them a-away.”
“I will.”
I sway on my feet. He lifts me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom, but when he bends to lay me on my bed, my mouth goes dry. Memory flares. A hospital bed. Velcro straps. So bright.
I turn in his arms and hold on as hard as I can. Spots dance in my vision, and I claw to drag air into my frozen lungs. “Don’t put me there. Get that out of here. T-take it out. Get it out!”
“I will. Right away. I promise.”
He walks with me straight to the king-sized bed and lays me on top of the comforter.
The fire ants crawling through my brain burrow in. I close my eyes, but the pain doesn’t ease. Lethargy steals through my limbs. I should be as floppy asa rag doll, but my teeth chatter, my muscles so tight that I wouldn’t be surprised to snap a bone.
He wastes no time, releasing the brakes on the hospital bed and pushing it straight to the door. A short, muffled conversation with someone in the hall later, and then it’s gone.
He returns and pulls a soft blanket over me then climbs in beside me, over the covers, and puts his arm around me.
A man’s voice in my head: “If you sell this family out, I’ll kill you myself.”
“You already betrayed him.”The voice of someone I should recognize.
“Don’t touch me,” I whisper.
He removes his arm, then stands and walks to the windows, drawing heavy draperies closed until the room is bathed in quiet shadows.
He makes a phone call, murmuring questions I can’t fully hear and instructions to someone. Then he returns to sit beside the bed where I’ve curled in on myself, shaking and shivering.
My gaze lands on the wretched wedding photo of the woman he says I was. I’m nothing like the adventurous, flirty woman who climbed on his bike. “I don’t look like her. I’m not smart or s-strong like she was. I can’t t-talk or laugh. You can’t have sex with me. Why are you here?”
“I love you—”
“You love her. Don’t watch me sleep,” I mumble. “It’s frickin’ creepy.”
“I’ll be nearby. Call me if you need me.”
When I say nothing in response, he leaves, and I sink under the weight on my heart. Because I needed him to go, but I wanted him to stay.
12
Gabriel
Sydney sleeps hard for the next several hours. When dinnertime arrives, I face a quandary. She needs rest, but does her body need food more?
I sit on the edge of the bed and play theIf Onlygame.
If only I’d sent someone else to handle the business trip to Tokyo in my place. I knew she hated it when I traveled, even if she’d cut her own arm off before she’d ask me to stay.
If only she hadn’t decided she’d be fine for a couple of days without a bodyguard on duty. If only, when the clasp broke on her necklace, she’d put it in a pocket, instead of a drawer. If only we’d kept a closer eye on Nikolai Markov over the years.
If only I’d found her before—
