Chapter 8
This damned hotel room, with its lavish decor and imported sheets, feels like a cage. No amount of luxury can ease the turmoil raging inside me or stop the haunting image of Lionel’s cold gaze and harsh words from replaying in my mind. I toss and turn on the bed, unable to find any solace in this opulent prison.
As the first rays of sunlight hit my face, I realize I had left the curtains open all night. The view from the balcony is breathtaking, but all I feel is emptiness and confusion. My world has turned gray, devoid of color and sense.
I had hoped that when Lionel woke up, we could talk things through and move forward. But instead, I am left with unanswered questions and a gnawing feeling that he is hiding something from me. What secrets does he keep? Is our entire relationship a lie? The uncertainty weighs heavily on me, as I struggle to make sense of it all.
If it’s about the money, I can sign one of those complicated agreements rich and famous people do before getting married, in our case, it would be after, but I think it’s still possible.
I’m a goal digger, not a gold digger .
All I want is for the man I fell in love with to come back to me. Was he even real?
A cool breeze begins to blow, and I close my eyes, leaning on the railing, asking the force that saved him to help me solve this mystery.
Don ’ t leave me alone, I beg in a whisper, my words are like a small prayer. I need you, you are with the one who sees everything, please help me.
The wind lifts the long strands of my hair on my back. I feel almost embraced by his spirit, comforted by his presence.
Dad.
I feel the familiar sting behind my eyes, and I know what’s coming. Tears flow down my cheeks, but I refuse to succumb to the overwhelming emotions that threaten to drown me.
Anger boils inside me, a raging fire fueled by betrayal and hurt. Everything inside me screams to lash out, to fight back against this injustice.
But I hold myself back. I am stronger than this chaos, stronger than these conflicting emotions tearing me apart.
I didn’t come here to be defeated. If Lionel wants me gone, then fine. I’ll return to where I belong. To the place where bonds still exist.
But first, he will have to answer for his actions. He will have to pay for the freedom he so callously took from me.
They say the truth will set you free. Well, that’s the price he’ll have to pay. And I will have my answers, even if they shatter everything I thought was true.
I wipe away my tears with determination, refusing to shed another one for him. He doesn’t deserve them.
He’s a liar.
A coward.
A thief who stole my heart for his own selfish gain.
But today, I will uncover the truth behind his deceit and manipulation. Fate may have a twisted sense of humor, but I am armed and ready for whatever it throws at me. Although my exhaustion, I force myself to take a steaming shower. I vigorously scrub my skin raw, trying to rid myself of the emotional turmoil that has consumed me. I reluctantly put effort into my appearance, braiding my hair and applying makeup that I usually avoid. As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I can’t help but feel like a fraud. Like this pretense of normalcy will fool anyone.
Ethan’s offer to pay for anything I need only adds to the internal struggle. Is this another test? A way for them to gauge my intentions? They don’t know me, but soon they will learn everything about me.
I anxiously wait for someone to pick me up and take me to the hospital. My mind races with what-ifs and possible outcomes.
Just as I’m about to lose myself in despair, my phone rings. I bet that’s my mother, calling from another time zone where it’s already late morning. She’s probably finished tending the bees by now. The thought brings a small sense of comfort, but it quickly dissipates as reality sets in again as Lionel’s name flashes on the screen.
I let it ring, I’m not sure I should answer it. But in the end, curiosity gets the best of me, so I swipe to answer the call.
“Hello,” I say, expecting to hear his voice on the other side of the line.
But in return, I only hear silence.
“Lionel?” I call out, why is he calling if he’s not going to speak? “Lionel, is something wrong?”
I hear someone breathing on the phone, but no words come.
“Lionel, is that you?” I insist, and then I remember Ethan telling me last night Lionel’s phone disappeared after the attack, so I decide to end this evil game.
I’m not in the mood for pranks.
“Who are you and what do you want?” I screech.
Again, the silence and when I’m about to hang up, the same voice that so often has sworn its love for me says, “Don’t forget that you’re mine, Stella.”
“Lionel?” I scream like a possessed woman. But it’s in vain, the call ends abruptly.
What fucked up game is this?
Why is he trying to confuse me, torture me?
Wasn’t what happened at the hospital enough for him?
I drop onto the luxurious bed, leaning my body over the mountain of pillows, looking at the thin band on my finger.
Wondering over and over, what the fuck is going on?
???
My heart races as I hear a knock on the door at exactly eight o’clock. I’ve been rooted in the same spot since my call ended, paralyzed by indecision. I’ve been hesitant about calling Ethan because I know he has twins at home who need a lot of attention, so I thought it better to wait for him to go to the hospital first then tell him about what happened.
I shake off these thoughts, reminding myself that my phone could be tapped. The paranoia has set in after binge-watching too many episodes of Criminal Minds . But even without the fear of being watched, I am nobody. Just a small-town girl whose husband suddenly thrust her into the spotlight. Lionel and I were worlds apart, so why would someone like him want me? It’s absurd, almost laughable.
The knock interrupts my thoughts and I grab my bag before heading to the door. A man in a suit stands outside with an imposing figure and hands clasped behind his back. With a serious tone, he informs me that they are ready to take me to the hospital. I follow him out to the garage where a sleek black SUV with tinted windows awaits us. It’s similar to the one I saw on TV just four days ago, though it feels like a lifetime has passed since then.
Time seems to lose all meaning in moments like these. As we pull up to the hospital, I catch a glimpse of the paparazzi still lingering outside. My heart races as I realize they could be waiting for me, but thanks to our discreet entrance and tinted windows, I’m hidden from their prying eyes.
The elevator ride to the ICU floor was agonizingly slow, yet over too soon. My mind raced with thoughts and fears, questioning if I belonged here, if I deserved to see him like this. This was all too absurd, yet painfully real. As we reached our destination, my body moved on autopilot as I followed the same routine as every day before, but this time, they didn’t require me to put on protective gear. It was a small comfort amidst the chaos inside of me.
“His mother is with him, she just came in,” the nurse tells me. So, I need to wait a little longer for whatever is going to happen.
My flats squeak against the floor as I walk up and down the hall. Unable to stay still, I’ve walked it so many times that I’m amazed I haven’t made a hole.
The security details, planted around the room like statues, watch us intently with a stony silence. They blend into the drab gray walls, but their presence is a constant reminder of the lurking danger that surrounds us.
A predator waiting for its prey.
I long to understand why this is happening, what twisted reasons lie behind it all. Mrs. Kral’s departure from the room freezes me in place with her icy gaze. I can’t help but feel that she’s used to getting her way and my stubborn refusal to leave only fuels her disdain towards me. I know I’m not the ideal woman she envisioned for her only child. Adopted or not, Lionel is still her son and she will do whatever it takes to protect him, even if it means getting rid of me. “You must wait before entering,” the nurse tells me. “I need to check Mr. Kral. Afterward, you can see him.”
The next few minutes seem like an eternity, the moment has yet to come.
My facade of composure cracks as I see the hollow eyes staring back at me. My father’s words about eyes being windows to the soul ring painfully true.
But I can’t give up now. Not even for him, not even for our crumbling relationship. This is a battle for my own sanity and strength.
As I leave the restroom, determination fuels each step towards that room at the end of the hallway. The nurse’s smile is meant to be encouraging, but all it does is remind me of how much I need reassurance.
Each foot planted on the ground feels like a small victory, yet also a burden weighing me down. The door opens with ease, almost beckoning me inside.
And there he is, propped up against pillows in his pajamas, watching me intently with those piercing eyes. As we lock gazes, an inferno ignites between us, consuming all rational thoughts and leaving only raw emotion in its wake. In this moment, nothing else matters except for the palpable tension between us.
But deep down, I know that this is just another step on that dreaded green mile towards an uncertain future.
“Here I am,” I say, stating the obvious. Duh, Stella, brilliant.
“You look good,” he greets me. “Did you sleep well?”
I just stare at him. My hands still, holding the thick white curtains behind me, trying to stop myself from the urge to run and hug him.
“Is that what you want to talk about?” I ask him without taking my eyes off his. “What can I say? The room Ethan got me is lovely and it has a beautiful view of the mountains where you can see the sunrise. There’s a bathtub, so I might take a long bath tonight.”
I finish my sentence by raising my eyebrows. If having a banal conversation is what he wants, I’m willing to give it to him.
After a few seconds of silence, he clears his throat. “Come sit here with me,” he asks, pointing toward the foot of his bed. Once again, I have to urge to run and hug him. My fingers itch to caress the smooth strands of his thick blond hair. To trace the stubble on his chin.
I lift my chin and walk to the other side, where the chair in which I’ve spent so many hours is. I take it and bring it near his bed before dropping my ass on it.
“Thank you,” I reply, looking him in the eye. “I’m glad you’re on the mend, Lionel.”
There, I can also be pleasant… when I want to be.
“Listen, Stella, I’m sorry.” What? I almost ask him to say it again. Lionel isn’t the type of man who admits he’s wrong. Never. In the past, when we had our arguments, it was always me who gives in and apologizes.
No more. No more submissive and quiet Stella Lambert, well technically my name is now Stella Kral. The lamb has grown horns and is ready to fight for what she wants.
“What are you sorry about, Lionel?” He better not think he’s going to get out of this so easily. “About the things you said to me last night? Or the fact you’re in this mess and you dragged me into it?”
He looks at me without saying a word. It seems he’s thinking about what to say next.
Fine by me, I’m not in a hurry, I’m quite comfortable sitting here.
“I never imagined being in a situation like this,” he mutters and does it with such sincerity, it takes my breath away.
We both stay silent. In the room we only hear the echo of the monitor blipping along the beat of his heart. The same ones I once thought were beating at the same rhythm as mine.
“I’m very sorry this happened, that all this has taken you out of your normal life, from what you had at home.”
Although I appreciate his words, they aren’t enough. I need more.
“The life I had at home ended when you showed up and fed me all those lies.”
Lionel looks at his long and elegant hands for an instant, then his eyes find mine again. His gaze seems so empty. He looks at me, as if this was our first-time meeting. His pupils shine, but that spark is unknown. New.
“There are things that have no explanation, Stella, or justification. So I’m not going to try to do it, many things have become blurred and foggy in my head, and I…”
I snort before answering.
“Do you believe you are the only one who’s confused in this situation? How do you think I felt when I found out you were here in Los Angeles, and someone almost killed you? What do you think went through my head when I saw on the news that your mother was here when you told me that you grew up in the system? Or discovering that I married an important businessman instead of a salesman?”
Lionel’s eyes widen as he tries to move, his face contorting with a sharp stab of pain. Without thinking, I rush to his side and try to help him settle, but my touch only causes his muscles to tighten even more. A chill runs down my spine, freezing the air in my lungs as I feel his body tense under my fingertips. He looks at me for a brief moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and I can see the raw intensity of pain in his gaze.
“Why did you call me this morning?”
His eyes widen, surprised by my question.
“Because I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Or because you wanted to make a statement. What is it with this whole thing about reminding me I’m yours?”
I want to shake him to get all the answers out.
I know we need to clarify many things, but he needs to rest and recover. The fact that I’m furious with him doesn’t blind me.
He takes my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist, right on the place my veins are pulsing. His warm lips stay there for a moment, feeling my blood rhythm. My heart is racing, we look at each other until I break the contact, distance is necessary now. “I love how you smell,” he finally says as he lets go of my hand.
Forget it, Lionel, that silver tongue of yours isn ’ t going to do the trick now.
“Lionel, I think I should go home,” I tell him.
“That’s fine, I’ll have someone take care of your transportation.”
Why did he agree to it so quickly?
Oh, wait a second…
“I want to go home. To Carrollton,” I explain. “I think it’s time to go back and move out of the house you made me rent. It’s an unnecessary expense, and my mother will be happy to have me back at her home.”
Lionel looks at me with his mouth wide open.
“You don’t have to do that,” he refutes. “If you want to go back to Kentucky, that’s fine. But I was talking about going home. To… to my house here in the city.”
This time it’s me who is speechless, my jaw almost hits the floor.
“Stella, we have a lot to mend. And for your safety, I’d rather you stay here where I can take care of you.”
“If you had told me the truth from the beginning, perhaps I would feel more inclined to cooperate. Now, all I want is to go back to the place I’ve always known.”
His mouth draws into a thin line.
“You’re free to do whatever you want,” he concedes. “But consider it a favor.”
Hearing those words, my eyebrows rise again.
“A big one,” I say in a voice full of sarcasm. “Look, if what you fear is I want to take away half of everything you own, forget it. I’m fine. I’m not rich, but I’ve never stolen anything from anyone. You can call one of your lawyers and have him write up an agreement.”
He looks at me again, studying me.
“We will talk about it later,” he says. “My mother has made her position clear on that.”
I snort. I knew it!
“I’m not surprised.”
“Luckily, my money is mine, not hers. So whether she likes it or not, she’s going to have to step aside and let me live my life.”
You just scored a point, Kral. You aren ’ t a total mama ’ s boy.
“Family matters. My mother and I are very close, but she doesn’t rule my life.”
“Draft those papers anyway, Lionel,” I insist, looking him in the eyes. “I think the best thing is for me to return to Kentucky. You know the town is pretty quiet and everyone knows each other. I’ll be perfectly safe there. You have no reason to worry…”
Johanna Kral may not be his biological mother, but they do share a trait, neither of them likes to be challenged. The expression painted on Lionel’s face makes that quite clear.
“Ethan told me the press already knows about you,” he argues, that is a sensitive point. “Do you think they will leave you alone? They are like piranhas looking for juicy news. They aren’t going to give up.”
I have to admit that he has a fair point there. I don’t want to see anyone’s life, much less my mother’s, turned upside down because I had poor judgment when choosing a husband. Mom would go completely nuts.
“The doctor came to see me this morning,” he says in a lighter tone, it’s good news. “I’ll be here until they remove the stiches. They want to keep giving me IV antibiotics. I’d like you to stay here with me.” Then he pauses for a long time. “Baby, please stay.”
“Lionel, I…”
“Stella, we need time. Stay and let’s figure this out together.”
My eyes slam shut as I weigh the endless possibilities, my mind spinning with a list of potential outcomes. The pros and cons blur together in a jumbled mess, each one more tantalizing and terrifying than the last. But if I walk away now, I know I’ll be haunted by all the what ifs that could have been.
But what else will I lose? Time? That’s a price I’m willing to pay in pursuit of the truth. And my bees will need tending to, but my mother has always been a capable helper. The distraction will do her good, considering all she has left is attending church and playing bingo.
The internal battle continues, tearing me apart as I weigh the consequences and potential outcomes. This decision could change everything, for better or for worse. But standing still and wondering about the unknown is not an option for me anymore. It’s time to take action and see where life takes me. “I have some conditions,” I say, expecting him to refute.
In return, Lionel smirks and something in me breaks. “I didn’t expect anything less.”
It seems that we are starting a new life. What it means, honestly, I don’t know.
???
“You know I can feed myself, right?” Lionel laughs as he gulps down the chicken soup I just put in his mouth.
I don’t say a word, just look at him with raised eyebrows. I know he can eat on his own, but after ten days at the hospital, I need to keep my hands busy.
Lionel’s stay was extended because when he was about to be discharged, he got a fever that just wouldn’t break. Doctors had to run some more emergency tests and change his medication.
Luckily, they moved him to a more comfortable room, so I’m able to stay with him at night without sleeping in a chair. The futon is far from comfortable, but at least I don’t wake up with a stiff neck.
“You should be thankful that I’m feeding you the soup and not gouging your eyes out with the spoon.”
We’ve had time to talk about some things, but the tension is still there, ticking like a time bomb, waiting to hit zero, and explode.
Lionel stares at me, while he takes my hand, bringing me closer to his body.
“Stella…”
The tension between us has reached its boiling point, thickening the air with a palpable heat that crackles between our bodies. Lionel forcefully shoves the wheeled table out of the way, his eyes locked on mine as he moves closer. The anticipation of our lips touching sends electric sparks through my skin.
“I see that you feel much better already.” Lionel’s mother enters the room with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
The woman ends the sentence with a touch of sarcasm in her voice, of course she knows she interrupted us and is happy about it. Even though we’ve made progress in making the best of our situation, one thing my dear mother-in-law has made clear to me—with her, I’m far from winning.
I hear Lionel growl and a giggle comes out of my mouth, I can’t help it.
“Hadley is waiting with some paperwork you asked her for.”
Yes, Hadley Weston, his assistant, whom I met a few days ago.
“Well, it’s time to work,” says Lionel, rubbing his hands together. “After all, I got a wife to have and to hold, right?”