Chapter Sixteen
Mara
Castaway
I never realized how loud traffic noises really are. When you live in New York City, they become a constant, dull drone that you simply tune out and don’t even notice after a while. But here on Lacey’s and I’s tiny balcony, with my sorry butt parked in a ratty chair and my hands wrapped around a warm mug of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, the cacophony of honks, beeps, and screeching tires are somehow amplified by the walls and pavement and glass all around me.
A week ago, a limo would have been pulling up to the entrance of this building, escorting me to my lowly lab job. Bastian insisted I be seen nowhere near my junk heap of a car, and arranged for my pickup every day until I decided what kind of car I wanted. But no Cinderella coach was coming for me now. The ball is over, and the clock already struck midnight.
I’ve barely eaten or slept since the last time I saw Bastian. My insides feel hollow, and I’m forcing down my favorite treat of chocolate and marshmallows in hopes of kick starting my digestive system. It seems like the only thing my body will accept is to see his face, to hear the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand. I groan in physical pain. I have a million dollars and don’t even want to buy food. How sad is that?
I can’t believe I let myself fall for him so deeply and completely when all along I knew better. When he knew better. Almost twice my age, wasn’t he supposed to be the wiser one? I let my hormones rule my head, and now I’m paying for that mistake—with my job, my self-esteem and if I’m not careful, my health.
“Mar!” Lacey shouts, poking her head out of the balcony doors. “Get your ass in here, now!”
I nearly drop my cup at her sudden outburst. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. What is it?”
“You better come see what’s on TV. You gotta see it for yourself.”
“Alright, alright, I’m coming.” I hoist myself out of the chair and step back inside. The TV is tuned to some morning news talk show, and Lacey is jabbing her finger maniacally at the screen.
My heart constricts as I see what she’s pointing at. It’s Bastian. He’s being interviewed in a network exclusive—one of those intimate, big-armchair tête à têtes that blow the ratings sky high. Lacey turns up the volume.
“Are you relieved that the world knows the truth?” the female host asks.
“Absolutely. It’s a huge relief.”
“The world probably wasn’t ready to hear it until now,” the host continues. “With those responsible having served their prison term, you’ve been cleared of all charges and culpability in the Pretoria incident. And you’re back in Africa, again. Tell us about that.”
“It’s important that everyone move on from this, including me. Re-establishing business relations with the South African government was crucial to the healing process. And I was able to visit many of the families who lost loved ones in the accident.”
“They received full and generous compensations, I understand.”
“Yes. I would’ve given more if it had brought those people back. But no amount of money can make up for that kind of loss. I’ll be the first to testify to that.”
“Of course. You lost your wife,” the host says, laying a comforting hand on his arm. “Our belated condolences. But you’ve been able to move on, haven’t you? A new life, and a new love.” She pauses to cluck her tongue in admiration. “I don’t think there’s anyone in America who hasn’t seen the face of your lovely fiancée Mara Snow. Your son must be thrilled at the idea of having a mom again. Are you going to bring him to New York for the wedding?”
Lacey clutches my arm to hold me upright as I sway a little on my feet. Oh boy. I’m not certain I’m ready to hear this.
Bastian gives the host a thoughtful smile. “I’ve kept Mica, my son, out of the spotlight his entire life. He’s been living with Celine’s family in France, and for good reason. She wanted it that way. I’m not about to break that promise to her, now. He’s never really known a mother, he was only a baby when she passed away.”
“Yes, that’s true,” the host acknowledges.
“As to the wedding, I’m not sure there’s going to be one. Thanks to my nefarious past, I think I’ve blown it with her, to be honest.”
A collective gasp rises from the studio audience. The host looks directly into the camera, her expression clearly indicating this part was not rehearsed. “Folks, I think the exclusive interview just got a little more exclusive.” She turns back to Bastian. “I’m so sorry to hear that. That must be devastating—to find love and lose it again so quickly.”
Bastian nods. “I suppose it’s hard to love someone who keeps secrets from you, especially potentially criminal ones. I should’ve told her from the beginning, but I think I was so starstruck by her beauty, and her brains, which are also beautiful by the way, I forgot everything else.” He tosses a rueful smile at the host, and I’m speechless at his words. They’re genuine and heartfelt. This is no act he’s putting on for the cameras. He’s laying his heart open for me and the rest of the world to see.
“Is there a hope of getting her back?”
Bastian inhales deeply. “You remember the saying, ‘You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone’?” he asks.
“I know it’s a song lyric.”
Bastian nods. “Yeah. Well, I know it now. And I’m an idiot to realize it too late. I had something special in my hands, and I let it go. I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”
“There’s another saying,” the host reminds him. “ ‘If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours.’ ”
“You’re right. And I do love her—I’m finding out now exactly how much. I just hope she’s heard the same song.” The host chuckles and the audience sighs a collective “Aww.”
Lacey squeals and practically wrenches my arm off. “Oh my God, Mara. Don’t just stand there, get your ass down to the station. The man just told the entire nation on live TV that he loves you! It’s not even a mile from here, I’m calling you a cab right this second. Go get changed!”
My feet stubbornly refuse to move, my brain unable to send the proper signal. I’m still processing what I’ve just heard. I’m relieved the truth has come out about the mine but is he telling the truth about being in love with me? It doesn’t matter. Even if he hadn’t announced it to the world, I know in my heart that I love him too and that I’ll support him no matter what. I’ll stand by him because that’s what people who love each other do.