Sara Jane

The room is dark, but I feel light. The troubles that have weighed me down lifted. Reaching over, I click my phone and the screen illuminates. 10:34 a.m. Wow. I haven’t slept that well or long in months. Turning the other way, I reach for Alexander, but the place beside me is empty. “Alexander?” I call, but nothing is returned.

I remain there a minute, maybe two, my body weightless and relaxed. For someone who just had surgery, I feel pretty damn good. My handsome boyfr—husband made sure of that.

Pushing up, I look around for any signs of him as my eyes adjust to the dark. I push the button beside the bed and the curtains start sliding open. “Alexander?” His watch and phone are missing from the other nightstand, something I remember cataloging when I used to sleep here and wake up alone. Those were the nights he would disappear on me, before I knew of penthouses in the city and CIA-like operations. That was before I knew all of my friends were hiding an entire life from me, a life that changed mine forever.

The pain in my side is increasing the more I’m awake and the more I move, the last dosage two hours ago not working as well, so I get up and head into the bathroom.

When I come out, I take my robe from the closet hook and leave the room. It’s weird to be back, not as traumatic as I thought, considering the bad memories made here and the ghosts that haunt the halls. I reach the stairs and am tempted to sit, hoping the pain eases, but I need the nurse, so I start down, slowly, holding on to the railing. After a few steps I see April in the living room. The sight of her gives me pause. I’m not sure why, but something feels off. Or maybe I don’t like surprises when it comes to this place. The familiar edge I used to feel returns.

April looks up from a magazine, surprised to see me, and stands. “Sara Jane?” She rushes toward me. “What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting.”

She’s in front of me instantly and rests one hand on my lower back while the other holds my free arm. “It’s only been a few days, sweetie. I could have gotten you anything you needed.”

“I’m looking for Alexander, and my nurse.”

Checking her watch, she replies, “Your nurse has your medicine scheduled for noon. Are you in pain now? Should I go find her?”

It seems odd to me that she knows so much about my schedule, but I brush it off, hating that I let my feelings for this house affect the way I receive her kindness. The nurse is around, so it’s nice that April wants to make sure I’m taken care of. Trying to turn me to go upstairs, I stand my ground. “Oh no, it’s fine. I can wait.” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to ease the pain. “Have you seen Alexander?”

“He’s working in the office.”

“Here or downtown?”

“I don’t know of an office downtown. He closed the other one.”

For some reason I like that she doesn’t know about the penthouse. I don’t like that I had no idea what Alexander’s been up to since I left town. Although given what we’ve been through in the last few days, it does make sense. “Okay,” I reply. When she realizes I’m not going back to bed, she helps me down the rest of the stairs. Once we reach the bottom floor I thank her.

“I’m happy to help, and I have too much time on my hands.”

I make my way through the living room and down the dark wood-paneled hallway. The last time I was here I overheard Alexander’s father praising him that he done well when it came to me. A sickness I only feel when it comes to his father corrodes my stomach and I stop, hoping the bile won’t rise anymore. I swallow, attempting to cleanse and soothe my throat, but the memories always remain.

The door is closed, and I’m unsure whether I should knock or walk in. I’m unsure of what my place is in the manor. The one thing I am sure of is where I stand in Alexander’s life. I open the door and peek in. Even though his brow is furrowed as he stares at the papers on the desk, I’m so glad he’s here. I’m so happy he stayed in the manor even if he didn’t stay in bed. “Hey,” I say before barging in.

He looks up, smiles, and says, “Hey there, sleepyhead.” Coming around to greet me, he holds me by the shoulders and kisses my face—my forehead, my cheek, my chin, my lips—where he lingers. When he pulls back, he touches my cheek gently. “The swelling’s gone down. The bruises won’t last much longer. How are you feeling?”

I quirk a half-smile. “How many times can I say I’m happy to be alive before it gets annoying?”

“You being alive will never be annoying and is always worth celebrating.” Closing all space between us, he whispers, “Let me be the first.” Our lips meet in a gentle embrace.

I whimper when our mouths part and giggle that I whimpered out loud. When I peek up, Alexander’s eyes flame bright like blue fire, his hunger for me singeing me. He leans down, his cheek brushing against mine, his lips caressing the shell of my ear. My breathing deepens, and my knees feel weak as the heat of his breath warms my skin. “Never leave me again.”

“I won’t.” My fingers run over the hard muscle of his upper arm, and my head falls against his chest with an ache in my heart for how much this strong man is hurting inside. “I promise.”

Like my wounds, I need to heal his, wanting to bring him back to life, back to the man he’s forgotten he is deep inside. Exhaling some of the heavy, I look up at him and he smiles down at me. I turn in his arms, and we drift apart when I walk to the window to look out at the gardens. “Tell me about work.”

“Work.” He sighs as if the word itself annoys him.

When he doesn’t continue, I ask, “How have you been managing with your father . . .” Our eyes meet and scorn swims inside his pupils. I’m not sure if I should have mentioned his father, but I need to make sure Alexander is taken care of like he takes care of me. “Gone?”

“Work never stops. I’m doing exactly what I never wanted—running Kingwood Enterprises.”

“What do you do now?”

Taking a file in hand, he flips it open. “Get rid of it all. I don’t care about it. I thought it meant something since my mother’s money helped build it, but it has my father’s fingerprints on every surface. It’s as dirty as he was.”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up. I was cur—”

“You have a right to know what’s happening with it.” The file drops to the desk and aggravation that subject causes with it. That cocky smirk of his youth decides to turn up the wattage, and for extra fun he raises an eyebrow. “To the rest of the world, you’re Mrs. Kingwood.”

“And to you, Alexander?”

“My universe.”

“You say the most amazing things. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Some don’t see me as a positive in your life.”

“That’s because they don’t see the real you, the you I see, the you I know so well.”

“The real question is what did I do to deserve you?”

“You saw me for who I was on the inside.”

He laughs. “You’re too good for me. If you only knew what I really thought the first time I saw you.”

Elbowing him playfully as I pass by, I reply, “Oh really? Do tell.”

“I’d scare you away, and I like having you around.”

“I don’t scare that easily if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have.” Taking my hand gently in his, I stop and look back at him. “What is it?”

“I want you to know that things have changed. I work all the fucking time trying to get Kingwood Enterprises broken apart and sold. I’m looking at a few more months to settle it all so I can move on and never look back. In the meantime, you’re back and you are my priority. I can hire managers and lawyers, but I don’t want to miss a minute of my life with you. Not after all the time we’ve already lost.”

“Thank you.” He takes my hand and leads me to a chair, but I continue talking, “I felt I had lost you to the search for answers regarding your mother. I realize now I hadn’t. I just had to share you. I understand why it’s so important to you. As much space as I take in your heart, there will always be a part of you that will need her.”

He sits next to me. “I don’t need her. I want answers though. Still. That’s what will fill the hole she left inside me.”

“Can we talk about April?” I ask, hoping he’s open to chatting about her.

“Sure,” he replies, standing and making his way around to the other side of the desk.

“I remember you saying she was going to get an apartment after rehab. What happened?”

“I was visiting with her before she got out of rehab and, I don’t know . . . guilt.” He drops his head into hands. “I feel guilty for her life turning out the way it did. My father did that to her. Then I feel guilty because my mom died. It feels traitorous at times to even talk to April much less help her.”

“But you are. You have a big heart, Alexander, and your mom would be proud of you.”

“Thank you,” he says, catching me in a yawn. “Let’s get you back to bed. You shouldn’t be wandering the halls.”

He bends down and lifts me like he did last night. “We need to start feeding you something more substantial. You’re losing too much weight.”

I’ve lost more than weight over the last few months:

My hope.

My schooling.

My best friend.

Myself.

My baby.

Our baby.

Being in Alexander’s arms now I see how much I’ve gotten back, though some things will always remain lost in a past I’m trying to forget. It’s better that way, for all of us. I rest my head on his shoulder as he carries me down the dark hall and through the living room. Once in the bedroom, I’m set down on the bed and my feet dip under the blanket.

I settle back on the pillows and watch as he dotes on me. Pulling the covers up to my neck, he kisses my cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“Oreos. God, what I wouldn’t do for some Oreos and milk right now.”

He laughs and I relish the joy running through me too much to worry about the pain. Bringing my hand to his mouth, he kisses it and then says, “Then Oreos you shall have. After you get some rest.”

The morning excursion wore me out and there’s more pain to get through before my next dosage, so I let my eyes give into the tiredness. The bed rise as he stands and walks across the room. I watch him. Even exhaustion won’t keep me from admiring him and that great ass he has. “Hey you.”

Turning back, he smiles. “Yeah?”

“Oreos are great, but I can live without them.”

“What’s the one thing you can’t live without, Firefly?”

“You, Alexander. Only you.”

He winks. “Good thing, because you’re kind of stuck with me.”

“Welllllll,” I say, rolling my eyes to further tease him, “if I had to be stuck with someone, I guess it’s okay to be stuck with you.”

“Well, me and Oreos.”

“My two favorite things.”

With the doorknob in hand, he says, “Get some sleep and dream about me feeding you cookies.”

“That might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever dreamed.”

“If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll make your dream come true.”

“I’ll be the best girl ever for that.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. Love you.”

“I love you.”

I lie there with a goofy grin on my face, feeling so much better about everything that worried me before. He’s welcomed me back as if I’d never left him. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen and treats me better. My fear that he’d lost interest while I was away has all but disappeared. Even my concern that he’d been too consumed with this impossible mission for answers has been eased. He’s still searching, but his focus seems to be where it needs to be right now. Relief washes through me.

Closing my eyes, I indulge my imagination. Alexander, shirtless with a plate of Oreos, just might be the most erotic image ever. I giggle, but then feel a coiling deep inside when memories of last night come flashing back. I survived a bullet, and refuse to allow it to cause me true pain. Yet resisting Alexander? Knowing that making love to him could physically hurt me? Careful is the last thing I’ll ever be with him.