33. Monica
33
MONICA
I glance up at the sound of the door opening, expecting to see another nurse with more paperwork. Instead, Olivia and Celia burst in like a ray of sunshine, arms loaded with what looks like half a farmer's market.
"Girl, what the hell were you thinking?" Celia's voice fills the sterile room as she drops a massive bouquet on my bedside table. "Driving with bad brakes? Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?"
"I didn't exactly want this, y'know," I say, feeling a smile spread across my face despite the dull ache in my ankle and the scrapes on my arms.
Olivia leans down to hug me, careful not to disturb my IV. "We brought you real food. Hospital stuff is garbage."
"Thank God." I eye the containers they're unpacking. "Is that your jerk chicken?"
"With extra spice," Celia confirms. "And Olivia's coconut rice pudding for dessert."
The smell of proper seasoning hits my nostrils, and suddenly I'm ravenous. As they pull up chairs on either side of my bed, the stark hospital room transforms into something warmer, filled with their energy.
"We all miss you and we're glad that you're okay," Olivia says, spooning food onto a plate. "Everyone at Taste of Heaven signed you a card for when you get back to work. No rush, though. Take all the time you need."
I take a bite of the jerk chicken, letting the familiar spices warm me from the inside. These women have been more than culinary colleagues—they've become my family. The thought brings a lump to my throat.
"Okay, what's going on in that head of yours?" Celia asks, leaning forward. "And don't say 'nothing.' Your face is doing that thing it does when you're overthinking."
I set my fork down. "Is it that obvious?"
"Transparent as hell," Olivia confirms.
"I'm scared." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "Benjamin's escalating, and now Henry's caught in the middle of my mess. I keep thinking maybe I should just..." I trail off, unable to finish the thought.
"Should just what? Push Henry away?" Celia's eyes narrow.
"That's exactly why I'm freaking out. Henry doesn't deserve this. He signed up for a fake engagement, not a psycho ex trying to kill me." My voice cracks. "What if Benjamin hurts him too? I couldn't live with myself."
Olivia reaches for my hand. "Monica, you've told us a bit about your past relationship with Benjamin. And to me, it seems like you've spent years believing you had to handle everything alone. That's Benjamin's voice in your head, not yours."
"I know, but?—"
"No buts," Celia interrupts. "That man convinced you that you weren't worth fighting for. And now you've got someone who thinks you are, and you're ready to run?"
Tears well up in my eyes. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to let someone in without waiting for everything to fall apart."
"By trusting yourself first," Olivia says softly. "The Monica I know is strong as hell. You rebuilt your life after Benjamin. You're killing it in your career. Why can't you believe you deserve love too?"
I wipe at my eyes. "Because what if I'm wrong about Henry? What if I'm just seeing what I want to see?"
"Honey," Celia says, "that man looks at you like you hung the damn moon. That's not fake."
Something shifts inside me—a tiny crack in the wall I've built around my heart.
"You're not alone in this," Olivia adds. "Not with Benjamin, not with Henry, not with any of it. We've got you."
I sit with Olivia and Celia's words echoing in my mind as they continue unpacking containers of food. The familiar aromas ground me, reminding me of kitchens where I've always felt most like myself. Most in control.
"You're right," I finally say, straightening up against my pillows. "I've been letting Benjamin dictate my choices even when he's not in the room."
"Damn straight." Celia nods, handing me another napkin. "That man's had real estate in your head rent-free for too long."
I take a deep breath, feeling something shift inside me—like puzzle pieces clicking into place. "I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Olivia asks, her eyes fixed on mine.
"Stop running, for one thing." I pick up my fork again, stabbing a piece of chicken with newfound determination. "Henry deserves better than me pushing him away because I'm scared."
Celia's face breaks into a wide smile. "Now we're talking."
"He loves you, you know," Olivia says quietly. "That's not part of any arrangement or deal you made. The way he looks at you when you're not watching..."
"Girl, that man is gone for you," Celia adds. "And from what I can see, you feel the same way."
Blood rushes to my ears, but I don't deny it. "I do. And that terrifies me."
"Good things should scare you a little," Olivia squeezes my hand. "It means they matter."
I think about Henry—his unwavering support, his fierce protectiveness, the way he makes me feel both safe and exhilarated. The thought of pushing him away now makes my chest ache.
"I don't want him to walk away," I admit softly. "I just don't want him to get hurt because of me."
"That's his choice to make," Celia says firmly. "And from where I'm sitting, he's already made it."
I nod, feeling a new resolve hardening within me. Benjamin may have tampered with my brakes, but I won't let him sabotage my future anymore. I have people in my corner now—not just Olivia and Celia, but Henry too.
And for the first time in years, I'm ready to fight not just for my career or my independence, but for love too.
I pick at the coconut rice pudding, savoring the sweet comfort it brings. My hospital room feels more like a gathering place now with Olivia and Celia here, their presence chasing away the sterile loneliness.
"By the way," Olivia says, leaning in close, "I overheard Leo on the phone with the lawyers yesterday." She raises an eyebrow meaningfully. "Those Blackwood men are not playing around with Benjamin."
My spoon pauses halfway to my mouth. "What do you mean?"
"I mean they're going to bury him." Olivia's voice is low but firm. "Leo was talking about restraining orders, harassment charges, attempted vehicular homicide—the works. And they've got connections with the DA's office."
"Henry didn't tell me all that," I murmur, feeling a strange mix of relief and apprehension wash over me.
Celia snorts. "Of course he didn't. Your man's trying not to worry you while you're laid up in here." She gestures to my ankle. "But trust me, that family protects their own. And like it or not, Mrs. Blackwood, that includes you now."
Mrs. Blackwood. The name still feels foreign on my tongue, even after all these weeks of pretending. Except it doesn't feel like pretending anymore.
"They've got investigators documenting everything," Olivia continues. "The text messages, the restaurant vandalism, your brake lines—it's all evidence. Leo said they're building an airtight case."
I sink back against my pillows, letting this information settle over me. For years, Benjamin made me feel powerless, like I was always one step behind him. But now...
"You know what's weird?" I say, setting my pudding aside. "I actually believe Benjamin can't hurt me anymore."
"Because he can't," Celia says firmly. "Not with the Blackwoods in your corner."
A sense of calm washes over me—not the false security I used to manufacture for myself, but something genuine and solid. For the first time since Benjamin reappeared in my life, I feel truly safe.
"It's more than just legal protection," I say quietly. "It's knowing I'm not facing this alone anymore. That I have people who believe me, who believe in me."
Olivia squeezes my hand. "That's what family does."
Family. The word resonates inside me, filling empty spaces I didn't know existed. The Blackwoods aren't just Henry's relatives anymore—they've become my shield, my advocates, my people.
"I think I'm going to be okay," I whisper, and I mean it.