Helena
Alton had more to say, but I didn't hear a word of it. I felt numb and cold, the news echoing in my ears over and over again.
Dominick didn't want to see me anymore.
Dominick didn't want to see me anymore.
After hearing that, nothing else seemed to matter. Alton kept talking, but it was all meaningless stuff that I couldn't bring myself to care about. Something about a bodyguard, the paparazzi, things like that. Ordinarily, it would've been enough to make me panic. But right at that moment, it barely seemed to matter at all.
Dominick didn't want to see me anymore.
He'd finally given up on me.
Despite Alton's attempts to comfort me, deep down I knew the truth. I'd screwed this relationship up from start to finish, right from the moment I'd decided to hide the baby from him. The entire debacle was an unhealthy mess, and the blame for that landed squarely on my shoulders.
I couldn't exactly blame him. His life was a complete mess now thanks to me. And even if I hadn't caused his accident directly, there's no way he would've gotten hurt last week had we never met.
I don't know why I was surprised. Every other attempt I'd made at a relationship had ended with disaster, too. The only common factor in all of them was me, and it was abundantly clear that I simply wasn't cut out for romance.
I'd been a fool to think otherwise, even for a moment.
At least I still had Ali, and the baby. I stroked my belly, one of the few comforts left to me, as I said goodbye to Alton and made my way out of the hospital. But before I'd reached the front door, a woman's voice called me by name. I turned around to see a petite woman gesturing for me to come closer.
I followed her into an employee break room, where two other women were sitting at a table and sipping coffee. They had been chatting when I came in, but quieted down so quickly that I wondered if they'd been discussing Ali and Dominick. One of the women stared at my belly, and I defensively crossed my arms over my chest in a vain attempt to shield the baby away from a nonexistent danger.
"Ms. Bramford," the petite woman said, her smile generous as she walked closer to me. "I hope you don't mind the interruption."
I nodded, feeling intensely awkward that apparently total strangers could now recognize me on sight.
"We just wanted to warn you about the journalists," the woman continued. "They are going to be hard to avoid."
"Thanks," I said, feeling my chest tighten with the news. I wasn't up for talking, not to the media or even really to these well-intentioned ladies. Talking was hard, even harder than thinking, but I pushed on. As I spoke, my voice sounded stilted and awkward. But then, so did my whole life. "I've slipped by them before, I should be okay."
The woman shook her head. "I don't think you've been following the news. They haven't been able to get anything on Dominick, so now you are their next target. They're looking for you specifically. We even had a few come in to ask about you, showing us your picture and everything."
"As if we'd say anything," another of the women muttered.
"You mean…already?" I asked, squeezing my eyes shut and wrinkling my brows together. As horrible as this night was, the bad just kept on coming. Alton had predicted that something like this would happen, but I never dreamed it would happen so fast.
"That's why they call it a scoop," one of the women said. "Everyone wants to get at you first, and damn the consequences."
"Just what I needed," I said quietly, feeling sick. "What can I do? Take the employee exit and go back to the car?"
"No," the petite woman said sadly. "They've got that covered, and it'll just give them even more time to harass you as you walk to your car. I don't think there is anything you can do, but I wanted to be sure you had some warning. It seemed cruel to just watch you walk out the door without having any idea what was coming."
"Thanks," I said again, wishing I had Dominick here to help deal with the media.
But Dominick wasn't coming.
Ever again—Alton had been clear, even though he couldn't offer any explanation about why. Dominick simply wanted nothing to do with me, and there would be no explanation. At least not right now, while he was just recovering from the trauma of the accident.
The thought was so upsetting that, once again, the news about the reporters seemed to matter a lot less. I felt numb to everything, and maybe that was exactly what I needed. As long as I made it home, as long as my family was safe, I'd be okay.
Or at least that's what I thought. As I left the hospital, I was surprised to see just how much the crowd had grown in a short time. Maybe someone had spotted me when I went inside, or maybe I just had terrible timing, but now the cordon of journalists seemed as big as it had been on the day of the accident. Bigger, even.
Biting my lip, I ignored the countless calls and questions as I made my way back to the car. Cameras were flashing in my eyes and strangers were shoving microphones into my face, but at least nobody physically blocked me as I walked through the crowd.
"No comment," I said, my voice lost immediately to the deafening din of the crowd.
Not that they would've listened even if they had heard me.
They were insatiable, their questions endless.
"Helena, Helena!" one of them called. "How's Dominick doing?"
"Can you confirm that the baby is his?" another asked.
"How does it feel to land one of the hottest bachelors in the city?" another asked, and I wanted to cry.
"Are you going to sue him for child support? Was that your plan all along?" another voice said, and I wanted to scream.
"How does Ellie feel about getting a half-sister? Do you think she'll be jealous that her dad isn't a celebrity?" someone else said, and I didn't even know where to begin with that one.
I guessed that I should've just been grateful that fact-checking was a dead art.
On and on the questions went, more of them than I could pick out from the myriad of voices. It seemed like I wasn't even a person to these people, or even a piece of meat. I was an accessory to a piece of meat, something to exploit to get saucy details on Dominick's private life.
And then one question came through with crystal clarity, piercing through my ears and straight into my heart.
"What will happen if Dominick dies?" asked a man standing near my car.
I froze.
Dominick was out of the woods for the most part, but the idea of losing him was unbearable. But of course, I'd already lost him. And even through the shock of the revelation, and how surreal it all seemed, the reminder burned through me like fire. The numbness that had been protecting me boiled away, anger and frustration building until I could feel myself trembling. I wasn't a violent person by any means, but as the smug reporter locked eyes with me, I wanted nothing more than to rush over and punch him.
But I remembered Alton's advice, that giving them anything at all it would only make this worse. So I forced the feelings back down where they came from and pushed on, ignoring the tears that now flowed down my face as I slipped past the obnoxious man and into my car.
Without missing a beat, reporters surrounded the vehicle and continued to shout questions at me. I wanted to explode with rage and tears, but the idea that it would all be instantly recorded and shared online was sobering.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to ignore the harassment as best I could. I pushed the key into the ignition with trembling hands and started the car, but nobody reacted. Outside the car was a mass of professional vultures, shambling all over and confident that I wouldn't do anything crazy.
Well, it was only a bad idea if everyone was crazy. As long as the reporters had some semblance of self-preservation, they would get out of the way. Very slowly and very carefully, I tapped the accelerator and shifted the car an inch backwards. The people closest to me reacted immediately, taking a step back to clear themselves of the vehicle.
No one, it seemed, was willing to risk their life just to interview Dominick's conquest.
That was fine by me. Checking all my mirrors carefully, I sped the car up a little more. The faster I got going, the faster I could escape from this nightmare and go back to…whatever my life was going to be now, I supposed.
More and more paparazzi gave up on following me, and within a couple minutes I'd left most of them behind. Only a couple of scooters were trailing behind, but soon enough, they'd disappeared.
The coast was clear.
My whole body was trembling as I pulled away from the hospital, and I drove about a mile before I finally had to stop. My hands shaking, I pulled into an empty parking lot near a small store.
Now that I was finally alone, I could again face the fact that I was alone. Dominick was gone, and I had no idea I was going to do next. I knew that I'd need to be strong for Ali's sake, but here in the car, I could let go for at least a little while. With my lips quivering, I rested my head against the steering wheel for a couple of seconds and let the barrage of tears flow freely on my cheeks.
A couple of seconds turned into a minute, and then two, and then more. I cried as long and as loud as I needed, trying to purge the despair from my heart before going back home and putting on a brave face in the morning.
But I had been wrong about something.
I had been followed.
Of course, I had been followed.
I wasn't really alone after all.