26. The Sting of His Disappointment
CHAPTER 26
THE STING OF HIS DISAPPOINTMENT
Paloma
I rush past Archer holding the door. His fingers brush my hand, but I don’t have time to slow down. Dad is on his back in the middle of the corridor. The two women who called out for a doctor keep their distance as if Dad has some contagious disease.
“Is there a doctor coming?” I ask them, while undoing Dad’s tie.
He’s cold to the touch and pale. Is this what a heart attack looks like? I press my ear to his chest, but I can’t feel anything. His stillness has me making up all kinds of fucked-up scenarios for him. He can’t be dead. His life can’t end like this. I look around us to the empty hallway. Where the hell are all his friends?
“Daddy,” I call for him.
“Paloma.” Archer wraps his arms around my body and lifts me up. “Let the paramedics do their job, love.”
The dark cloud around me lifts, and I’m able to focus on what’s happening. Help is here. I turn to face Archer with wild eyes. His serenity washes over me as I lean on him and wait for him to confirm if Dad is still here.
“He’s alright. They’re taking him to the hospital.” He cups my face. “We’ll follow behind.”
“No, I want to ride with him.” I push away from him, but he grabs me by the elbow. “Archer, I have to go with him. Look at him. He’s not well.”
“I can see that.” He glances upward. “I’m coming with you.”
The paramedics lift Dad onto a gurney and wheel him out of the theatre. Numb, I follow them until they reach the ambulance outside. When I try to climb in the back, they stop me to ask questions. I can’t hear them. All I can focus on is Dad’s unconscious form in the back of an ambulance. All I can think of is that things wouldn’t have gotten this bad if I had stayed with him.
Archer talks to them. Whatever he tells them is enough for them to let me through. I sit by Dad’s feet and wait for the paramedics to climb in behind me. A shiver runs down my back as the door shuts close. I startle when the vehicle moves. Sitting here with him feels like the beginning of an irreversible ending. I can’t help him. I wipe tears off my face, rubbing my cold arms.
“He’s going to be okay, love.” Archer kisses my shoulder and drapes my coat over me.
He’s here grounding me when he doesn’t need to be. His body next to mine brings me back to center. The irrational fear that I might float away into nothingness fades away, and I can breathe again. I rest my head on his chest and let his warmth seep through every inch of my body.
“You’re here,” I murmur. “Why are you helping us?”
“You’re my wife, Paloma.” He kisses my temple, holding me close. “That makes him my responsibility. I’ll make sure he gets the care he needs. I promise.”
“He’s stable now.” The paramedic assures me. “He might want to stay overnight. The doctor will talk to you after triage.”
“Thank you.” I push hair away from my face. “Was it his heart?”
“We’re here,” the other paramedic says as he begins to get Dad ready again.
The ambulance stops. As soon as the door pops open, chaos surrounds us all over again. Archer hops out, then turns around to help me climb down. And then, we just stand there as they take Dad through the ER doors.
“Let’s give them a minute to settle him in, then we’ll ask what’s going on?” He ushers me inside to a waiting room and lowers me onto a chair.
I stare at his black leather shoes until they move out of my line of sight. He doesn’t say it, but I know he’s out there bossing people around, making sure Dad is getting the proper care. As much as Archer hates Dad, he’s here helping because of me. And that fills my heart with so much love.
“Hey.” Archer sits on his ankles, cocking his head to look at me. “This isn’t on you. Do you understand?”
“I should’ve been there with him. Hunter told me he wasn’t doing well.” I glance down at my hands, but I don’t miss the way Archer winces at the mention of Hunter’s name.
“I think he collapsed due to stress.” Archer covers my hands with his. “Nothing to do with you.”
“Stress?” I look up at him. “From work.”
He furrows his brows. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but his hesitation makes my stomach drop. What could be so bad at work to cause Dad to practically have a heart attack?
“Tell me what happened.” I sit up straight so he can see that I can handle whatever news.
“There’s a fraud investigation underway that shows the Senator has been misappropriating campaign funds.” He speaks slowly as he watches my reaction. When I don’t lose my shit, he continues. “He’s going to have to go before the ethics committee. But the party wants him to drop out of the race and resign before it gets to that.”
“Oh my God.” I place my hand over my mouth. “What about the money you gave him? Wouldn’t that make them even? What does it matter if he took the money? He put it back.”
“Putting the money back doesn’t erase the fact that he misused the funds,” he says without judgment in his tone.
“How did the ethics committee even find out?” I ask.
“Paloma.” He sits next to me and hugs me to him. “Let’s talk about this when we get home. This isn’t the right time.”
“I want to see him.” I rise to my feet.
“Alright. Give me a sec.” He ambles to the nurses’ station. When he returns, he offers me his hand. “Come on, they’re taking him to a private suite now.”
“That was fast.” I smile at him.
Dad’s room has a beautiful view of the city with twinkling lights in the distance. When I walk in, he’s staring intently out the window from his upright bed. The color on his cheeks is back, but so is the contempt in his eyes.
“Daddy?” I amble around the bed and into his line of sight. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve aged a decade in a day.” He adjusts his head on the pillow to look at the ceiling instead of me. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with your husband?”
“Archer is here.” I point toward the hallway. “We were so worried about you.”
“My time hasn’t come just yet, Paloma.” He scoffs. “I just need to rest.”
“Do you mind if I stay with you? Keep you company?” I cover his hand with mine. He doesn’t remove it, but he doesn’t hold it either, like he used to. “Did the doctor say when you can go home?”
“Morning.” He nods. “You should go home to your husband.” His tone is bitter and reproachful. “I have a lot of work to tend to in the morning.”
“Archer told me about the ethics…” The words die on my lips when Dad glares at me in anger.
“What does Archer know about the ethics committee?” His cheeks turn bright red.
“Nothing, Daddy.” I step closer to the bed. “He said you had a lot of stress at work. That’s all.”
“Someone betrayed me.” He purses his lips. “Divulged classified information. And now they want me to resign.” His gaze shifts from my face down to my feet, then up again. “I gave you up, and it was all for nothing. You became his whore. And I’m still going to lose my seat.”
His whore? Is that how he sees me?
“Daddy.” I shake my head. “You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t think I don’t notice how you look at him.” He shoots me a lewd glance. “Just like her. At the first chance you got, you had to show your true colors, letting him put his hands all over you.”
“What?” I step away from him. “I married Archer for you. To help you.”
“You broke your promise to me. Do you remember?” He winces.
Dad raised me all on his own since I was four years old. He gave me everything a girl could want. And in return, he only asked that I stay pure. He wanted me to stay above everyone else in my ballet company and not indulge in something as basic as sex. I was twelve when I made him that promise, so it was easy to keep. Even after I started dating Hunter, it was still easy. Hunter wanted the same thing as Dad—he wanted me to stay a virgin.
But then I met Archer. And keeping that promise became an impossibility. I told myself that it was okay to want him so much because we were married. But now I see that I fooled myself into thinking that I could have him. I broke my promise. Dad is right to be disgusted with me. I broke my promise to him.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” I wrap my fingers around my left wrist and squeeze. “I thought that’s what you wanted. Please forgive me.”
“I want to forgive you.” He studies my features. “You were always my most precious possession. But now he’s tainted you. You like being his little whore, don’t you?”
“Daddy.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
“Just leave.” He lets his head roll toward the window and the city lights.
I stand there in the middle of the cold room as the buzz in my head grows louder. I can’t stand the cacophony of angry voices, hurtling insults at me. Suddenly, I’m back in the theater with all those men sneering at me, calling me a whore. They were right. What else could they call me? I did exactly what Dad said. At the first opportunity, I let my desire for Archer take over.
Tears blur my vision as I dart out of Dad’s suite and sneak into the one next door. The bed is unmade, but it’s empty. The patient must be taking a walk or maybe getting tests done. I rush to the locker next to the bathroom and pull out the bag with their personal effects. I dump the contents on the bed and rummage through them. The patient is a woman who seemed to have come here from some sort of fancy dinner.
Her designer gown is silky to the touch, and it still smells of expensive perfume. In a smaller bag, I find a Cartier watch and a pair of emerald earrings. I grip both items in my fist, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand.
You like being his little whore, don’t you?
Just like her.
Dad’s resentful words ring in my head. My body trembles as I stuff the watch and earrings in the bodice of my dress. I take a few seconds to put everything in the plastic bag then toss it back in the locker. But despite the small release, I still can’t breathe. I need the real thing.
I turn around to leave and run into Archer’s chest. His body immediately engulfs me, and I can’t move as I look up at him. I shouldn’t want him this much. But I can’t help it. I don’t know how to contain this incessant need I have of him.
“Come with me.” He wraps his arm around my waist and ushers me out of the hospital room.
At the end of the hallway, he holds a door open for me, then gestures for me to go on. I stroll into the bathroom, pressing my hand to my stomach to feel myself breathing.
“What is it?” I turn to face Archer.
“What the hell happened with the Senator?” He scans my face, and then, the rest of my body. “Do you do this a lot?” He points at my cleavage with a leather strap hanging out.
“No.” I stuff the Cartier back inside. “It grounds me.”
“Give it back.” He puts out his hand. “Everything you took.”
I glare at his hand, realizing that he’s not shocked. He’s genuinely concerned but nothing else. My brother Chuck is the only who knows about my bad habit. For years he’s kept my secret, but not once did he make me return my spoils.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because.” He wipes a tear pooling in the corner of my eye. “It’s wrong to steal, Little Dove. Especially from a dying woman.”
“What?” I gasp. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, I don’t know either. But how about you just hand it over.” He could reach into my dress and grab everything, but he wants me to surrender.
“I’m sorry.” I fish out the watch and the earrings.
“Is that it?” he asks.
“Yes. That’s it.” I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Stay here. I’ll be back.” He bends down and kisses my lips.
I hug myself as the door closes behind Archer. Dad’s words still linger in the back of my mind. Why is he so upset over something he agreed to? Does he not know Archer? Has he not figured out yet that no one says no to him?
A reel of all the times I begged him for release plays in my head on repeat. I begged him. He didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want.
“I’m sorry.” I squeeze my left wrist.
The buzz in my head returns, and this time, I know I can’t swipe a few trinkets to feel better. I need the real thing. Only pain can quiet the chatter. I take ragged breaths and start to count to ten. I make it to five before I dig my fingernails into my skin. I drag them up my arm and then down again. My fingernails split before I break through the old scabs, but I don’t care. I keep at it until a drop of blood smears into my palm. And then I wait for it, the calm.
I’m falling through the ice again. And all I see in the distance is Archer’s beautiful face. His voice is like a warm blanket that blocks out all the light, and even the noise. Of course he found me. He always does. He’s always there when I can’t breathe.
“Paloma.” Archer cups my face, holding my right hand in his. “Jesus. Look at me.”
“What?” I blink tears away to clear my vision. “Don’t touch me.”
“Why not?” His gaze bores into mine.
“Because we’re not supposed to. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” I see the horror in his eyes.
“You can ask me for anything. Except that.” He presses his forehead to mine. “Anything but that.”
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my free arm around his waist and wince when his tuxedo jacket rubs on the tender skin.
“You can explain to me what happened later.” He pulls away. “For now, we need to make sure those cuts don’t get infected. Come on.”
He walks me back to Dad’s room. When I find his bed empty, my heart races. “Archer?”
“He’s getting tests done. He’s fine.” He gestures at the rumpled sheets. “Sit.”
He leaves and comes back with single packets of ointment, band-aids and wraps. A tall, beautiful nurse follows him into the room. Is it just me? Or does he have gorgeous women flocking him everywhere he goes? The nurse smiles at me, pointing at my injuries, but before she can ask if she can take a look, Archer steps in.
“I can take it from here. Thank you.” He dips his head toward the door, takes off his tuxedo jacket and begins to roll up his sleeves.
The nurse blushes, seemingly at a loss for words. She’s not wrong. Archer rolling up his sleeves is a sight to behold. I fight off the images of him entering my old room, looking exactly like this. I can’t be weak with him anymore.
“Thank you.” I smile at the nurse who’s still looking at my husband with a big smile on her face.
When she recovers a handful of seconds later, she shifts her attention to me. “Of course. Let me know if there’s anything else you need.” She nods once, then leaves.
“You ready?” Archer steps into my line of sight, his deep blue gaze trained on me.
“She likes looking at you.” I hate the accusatory tone in my voice, but I continue. “What did you say to her?”
He chuckles. “I didn’t notice her looking.” He braces both hands on either side of my hips. “Jealousy looks good on you, Little Dove.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not jealous.” I squint at him for a beat then look away.
“My mistake.” A smirk pulls on his lips. “But for the record, I only have eyes for you.”
Time slows to a drip of honey as I watch him carefully lay out the medical supplies on the bedside table. He’s methodical and self-assured the way he moves as if he’s done this a million times before. Being here with him like this, I feel the release I so craved earlier. The chaos in my head subsides, and it feels like coming home and letting go. It feels like waking up to a ray of morning sunlight that sneaks into the bedroom through a small opening in between the curtains. It feels like I can finally let go.
“Give me your hand,” he orders.
My body obeys before my brain has time to consider his words. He takes my hand gently and begins to clean and wrap each fingernail. I study his beautiful profile and the way his full lips part slightly in concentration. How is it possible to be this beautiful? How does he exist?
“You’ve done this before?” I ask. “You don’t seem grossed out by all the blood or ripped scabs.”
“Is that a compliment?” He stops dabbing ointment on the inside of my elbow. When I don’t answer, he laughs. “No.” He looks up at me. “You’re my first.” He continues to work his way down to my wrist.
“Are you mad at me?” I suck in my lower lip.
“No.” He lifts his head to look at me. “But I’d like to know why you are. What happened with the Senator? What did he say to you?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head.
“This isn’t nothing.” He grabs a roll of self-adhering bandage wrap and tears a long strip. “I’m starting to think that the Senator does this to you.”
“He didn’t do anything.” I pull on my arm, but he keeps it in place so he can wrap it.
“Maybe he wasn’t the one who cut you, but he’s sure as hell the reason for it.” He holds my gaze for several beats then returns his attention to my arm to finish up the wrappings.
“Can I stay?” I ask, knowing Dad doesn’t want me here. But maybe if I stay, I can explain to him why my marriage to Archer can be a good thing. “Dad’s going home tomorrow.”
“You staying with him wasn’t our deal.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“I know. But.” I stop to inhale. “That was before Dad had a heart attack.”
“We don’t know it was a heart attack.” He cocks an eyebrow. “They’re running tests to figure it out. There’s nothing you nor I can do here. It’s best if we go home. Hmmm?” He touches my chin. “You can play the doting daughter some other night.”
“You’re impossible.” I hop off the bed. “He could be seriously ill.”
“I seriously doubt he is.” He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. “Let’s go home.”
Home sounds nice. I shoot a quick glance at the bed. Dad’s words from earlier are still in my head. The sting of his disappointment is buried deep in my chest. If I go with Archer now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stay away from him like Dad wants me to.
“Why do I get the sense you’re afraid to be alone with me?” He brushes his lips over mine.
“It isn’t that.” I push against his chest. When he releases me, I take two steps back. “I’m just worried about Dad.”
“You can worry about him from home.” His tone is final as he reaches inside his tuxedo jacket to fish out his phone. He puts the device to his ear. “William, we’re ready for you.” He nods a couple times, then hangs up.
“Can we at least wait and say goodbye?” I step toward the door.
“No.” He grabs his tuxedo jacket off the foot of the bed and drapes it over his arm. “We need to go now.” In two long strides, he catches up to me and places his hand on my lower back. “It’s a long ride home.” He bends down to whisper in my ear, “Have you ever done it in a limo?”