Chapter Twenty-One Lila
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LILA
Mama was back from Chicago, but the relief I expected to feel never arrived.
I was clocking in eight hours of phone time a day.
Researching gadgets for the impaired of hearing.
There was a list sitting in the bottom of my nightstand drawer of things I wanted to purchase and try out.
I needed to figure out how to order them from the internet without asking for Tiernan’s help.
It didn’t look like the vendors accepted cash.
Unfortunately, Tiernan became even more insufferable after I saved his life.
He now insisted we have dinner together every evening.
He brought delicacies from the Italian deli and spent the entire length of the meal watching me through his emerald eye, chipping at the walls I built around me with his ruthlessly cold exterior without speaking one word.
He let me come and go as I pleased, as long as I was escorted by four bodyguards. Since I was terrified of men, he sent Tierney with me whenever I visited Mama. I was so upset with the latter for hiding the internet from me, I ended up spending most of my time with Tierney, anyway.
I wasn’t sure why my sister-in-law had agreed to spend all this time with me.
It neither fit her personality nor her busy social calendar.
Yet she seemed happy to be with me. Always babbling away, showing me funny memes on her phone, asking me to show her the stables, the gardens, the pieces I left behind.
Today, I decided to take a break from Long Island.
I sat at the living room window, watching the grimy street with my back to the door, when something soft tickled the space between my ear and neck.
I squirmed, swatting it away, swinging my gaze up.
My husband stood before me. He was clad in a smart peacoat, a loose gray scarf, and designer wingtips, shiny enough to display one’s reflection.
He was impeccably dressed. Not as lavishly as Camorrista—he had no jewelry, no diamond earrings, expensive watches, and silky shirts—but rather, like a man.
That fickle heart of mine missed a beat at the sight of him.
I had even warmed up to his eye patch.
He twirled a feather between his long fingers, his brow arched in wry amusement. “Head in the clouds, Gealach?”
The subtext stunned me into near-tears. He called my name, got no response, realized I couldn’t hear him, so instead of touching me to alert me of his presence, he used a barrier, a buffer between us to signal he was here.
Now that I thought about it, my husband kept a healthy distance from me unless we were having one of his one-sided arguments.
Something melted inside me, and I offered him a small smile, which he didn’t return. He put the feather back inside a decorative bowl on the credenza. “You have an OB-GYN appointment in thirty minutes. Get dressed.”
My mood soured, giving way to the metallic, cold blade of fear. It was becoming real. The pregnancy. The baby. The marriage. I stilled, refusing to budge.
My mother promised she’d be the one to take me to the appointment. I forgot all about it.
Suppressed it from my memory, most likely.
Why wasn’t she here?
Tiernan waltzed over to the kitchen to grab himself a protein shake and returned, his frosty exterior impenetrable. “Move it. I have a five o’clock appointment downtown.”
I peered around uncertainly. Not communicating with him was painful at this point. I wanted to ask about my mama.
Reading my mind for the millionth time, he sighed. “Your mother asked me to take you. Said she’s under the weather.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. I was waiting to see if he’d touch me. Hurt me. A messed-up part of me hoped he would. This way, I’d be able to stop the temptation of confiding in him. My traitorous heart would cease cartwheeling every time he entered the room.
“Very well.” He moseyed over to my room, returning a moment later holding my phone. My eyes flared in panic. He couldn’t take away my phone. It was the only thing keeping me afloat.
How on earth did he even find it? I’d been hiding it underneath a loose floorboard ever since he caught me using it.
“Two options. One, you give me trouble, and I break this thing into five pieces.” His fist tightened around the device.
“Two, you get dressed and play the obedient wife for an hour, and I link my PayPal to your phone and let you buy all the shit on your little supermarket list at the bottom of your drawer.”
My jaw slacked. When did he see it? Probably during one of my visits to Mama. He’d been snooping around my room. I’d be upset about it if I hadn’t returned the favor. At this point I could give guided tours in his master bedroom.
“Nice handwriting, by the way.” His smile stretched further. “Very neat.”
My cheeks flushed.
I was starting to see there was no fooling my husband. He knew where I kept my things. What I was thinking. What I was doing. What made me tick. Knew I wasn’t intellectually impaired. That I understood everything he said and did.
And he knew his coldness repulsed and fascinated me in the same breath.
Also, what was PayPal? Probably a type of credit card.
I licked my lips, considering his proposition. Why did he care that I visit the doctor?
Reading my mind once again, he said, “Your family won’t fulfill their end of the bargain unless you’re taken care of.”
Of course he didn’t care. I had no illusions about that.
…so why did I feel a pang of disappointment nicking the spot just beneath my breastbone?
“Take the mask off, Lila. I know you can read. I know you surf the internet. I know you can write, and stitch together a wounded motherfucker, and probably split atoms. You’re coming with or without the confession. Be a smart girl and take the deal.”
I stood up and stomped my way to my room, where I changed into something hideously pink to piss him off. We left the house with a flock of guards split into two vehicles. My husband was on a phone call the entire way.
The Mercedes stopped in front of a preppy Manhattan building. Tiernan got out first, followed by two of his soldiers, before he gestured for me to follow. The second set of guards trailed behind us.
We broke off from security when we entered the elevator in the sleek lobby. By now, I was so nauseous I was surprised I didn’t vomit my heart onto the floor. My palms were clammy, and my limbs felt like overcooked noodles.
My stomach was still flat, and the morning sickness was now almost completely gone, so I allowed myself to pretend I wasn’t pregnant most days. Now someone was going to touch me. Show me the baby. The child of my rapist. Make me face the reality I’d been ignoring for three months.
I was barely eighteen. I’d never even had a proper kiss. The kiss during the wedding ceremony didn’t count. And I knew nothing about babies.
When we got to the reception, my panic flared into sheer terror.
“Dr. Driscoll is unfortunately indisposed.” A flirty receptionist batted her fake lashes at my husband. She looked like one of my brothers’ mistresses. Big hair, boobs, and a small brain to match. “But her husband, Dr. Maguire, stepped in to cover her appointments for the rest of the afternoon.”
A man was going to touch me?
A man was going to put his hands on my most private parts?
Jerkily, I looped my fingers around Tiernan’s forearm, digging my nails into his hard muscles.
“That won’t do,” Tiernan said calmly, dismissively. “I specifically requested a female doctor.”
He did?
“Totally, yeah, I understand.” The bubbly receptionist flipped her hair with a smile. “And Dr. Driscoll will take over moving forward. It’s just this specific appointment—”
She stopped. Tiernan didn’t even say anything. His stony glare told her it was nonnegotiable. What was his voice like? Raspy, I’d imagined. Rough around the edges, just like the man himself.
“I see you’re not happy,” she said.
A thin, humorless smile. “Smart girl.”
The receptionist swallowed. “Let me see if Dr. Lockerby is available…”
“Is Dr. Lockerby a woman?”
“Hmm, yes. Her name is Meredith.”
“You do that, while I help my wife settle in the examining room. Remember—if she’s uncomfortable, I’m uncomfortable.
And if I’m uncomfortable…” He trailed off, casually leaning a shoulder against the wall and exposing the gun in the holster beneath his tailored peacoat. “Everyone gets real uncomfortable.”
We huddled down the corridor and slipped into room number seven. A faded blue hospital gown waited on the edge of the examination table, folded neatly into a square.
I turned to Tiernan to tell him to look the other way and caught the sight of the door clicking shut. He left, the scent of expensive leather and musk lingering in the air like the swollen pulse of a kiss.
It was the first time I was alone somewhere new since the assault.
Was he coming back?
Was I going to face the doctor alone?
My anxiety won over. I picked up my phone and texted Mama. It was the first time I had initiated a conversation with her since she came back from Chicago.
Lila: Why didn’t you come to my OB-GYN appointment?
Chiara: I’m sorry, honey. I have a terrible headache. It shouldn’t be too bad. Just do as the doctor asks.
Bullshit. She knew how triggering this was for me. Knew how this pregnancy came about.
Trembling, I reached for the zipper in the back of my dress. It took me three attempts to remove it. I picked up the hospital gown and examined it. It was missing a part. Front or back, I couldn’t tell. But one side was purely made out of strings.
Which way was the right one?
Tears collected on my lower eyelids. Since they were going to check my belly, I guessed I needed to wear the gown with my front exposed. I quickly tied the strings beneath my breasts and around my stomach. What a stupid design for a hospital gown! What was even the point of it?