18. Lily
18
Lily
I don’t know what happened last night. The tears came from nowhere. But then I realized Orson was right. The pressure of meeting his grandfather and knowing how much was on the line for us both had overwhelmed me.
That, and I was angry at Orson’s family for what they had done to him.
I always have been. Clearly, all that stuff has stuck with me over the years, and Arthur Donovan’s words were the catalyst for my meltdown. But as I currently shower in the ensuite bathroom, I’m not reliving the tears I shed. I’m thinking about that kiss.
Yes, it was our second kiss, but the first one didn’t really count. Last night, there was no goading or pressure; it just happened spontaneously. I’m still trying to figure out why.
You know why.
I think I know why, but I’ve been rationalizing it ever since.
I’ve told myself that it was Orson’s way of comforting me. Or that we’ve both been under so much pressure that there needed to be a release. Or that we just got caught up in the moment. In fact, anything other than the chance that the goalposts have moved.
Maybe it’s because things haven’t been consistent. I mean, one minute there’s a kiss, and the next, things go back to the business arrangement. Last night, we shared another kiss, and yet, when we retired to our room, we were like twitchy teenagers.
As far as anyone else knows, we’re married, so of course we were given a room with a double bed. When we walked in and Orson saw it, I think he nearly had a seizure.
“Oh, uh, okay,” he said, glancing at me uneasily. “I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t realize…”
“It’s fine.”
Orson paced a little and said, “I can get them to make up another room.”
“You can’t. Not after everything we’ve done to get this far. If your grandfather hears about it, all the efforts we’ve made will have been a waste of time.”
That seemed to stump him, and then he nodded. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” I retorted. “Look at the size of that bed. You could fit five people in there. You’re sleeping in the bed, and that’s the end of it.”
I understood his angst because when I had packed my overnight bag, it didn’t occur to me, either. The stress of having to deal with the gala had taken up all our concentration. Maybe my subconscious knew where we’d end up because I brought pajamas and not a flimsy nightgown.
Thank heavens.
We took turns changing in the bathroom, but when we both returned, we were nervous and tiptoeing around each other, more like a couple of burglars than a married couple.
“What side do you normally sleep on?” Orson asked nervously.
I nodded my head. “The right.”
“Oh.”
“You can have it if you like. I’m so tired, I could sleep on a washing line.”
“It’s okay,” he replied. “You take it.”
“Are you sure?”
He smiled at me. “Lily, if we carry on like this, we’ll still be standing in this same spot tomorrow morning.”
“Fine,” I relented. Moving passed him, I pulled the heavy duvet back and slipped into bed.
As tired as I was, I couldn’t sleep for ages, knowing he was lying only a few feet away. This fake marriage has gone so far, but sleeping in the same bed was never in the deal. And yet I felt completely safe.
After my shower and breakfast—which Orson had sent up to the room so I wouldn’t have to deal with the stress of speaking to his grandfather again—we pack our bags.
“Ready?” I say, heading to the door.
“No,” Orson replies.
I spin around to look at him. He’s looking back at me with this intense gaze.
“What’s the matter?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just need to tell you something.”
While I don’t move, he takes three paces across the room and stands about a foot away. He takes my hand and holds it gently in his.
“When I asked you to do this, the only thing I could think about was my inheritance. I know the survival of the bakery was part of the deal we made, but selfishly, all I thought about was what I was going to gain. But what started out as a business deal has turned into so much more for me.”
He pauses, searching my face for some sort of reaction. Currently, I’m too stunned to react.
“Somewhere along the way, the lines have blurred. Now, I’m not sure I’m playing a role anymore.”
I actually can’t speak. There are literally no words in my head right now. Instead, I just keep gazing at him.
“I have feelings for you, Lily, and I believe those feelings are real. I know this wasn’t part of the deal, but I can’t hold back from telling you any longer.”
He looks at me again like he expects me to say something. Things have happened between us; I know that. Still, I didn’t expect him to just come out and tell me how he feels. I’m not ready.
“Please, Lily. Say something,” he pleads. “Tell me what you’re thinking or feeling. Tell me anything.”
I need space, I need air, I need a guardian angel to tell me what to do. What am I supposed to say? Orson has been thinking about this. He’s had time to consider his feelings. I haven’t.
“I need some time to think,” I blurt.
He looks a little hurt, but there’s not a lot I can do about that. I’m not going to say the first thing that comes to my head, which is currently, Lord, somebody help me.
“All right,” he says evenly.
“We will talk, Orson. I just need some time.”
“I get it,” he says. “It’s fine.”
By his tone, I know it’s not fine, but instead of trying to appease him, I turn, grab my bag, and head for the door.
The journey home is a joy. Not!
We barely say a word to each other for an hour and a half, which makes the whole trip way too tense. I’m so busy concentrating on the dense atmosphere in the limo that I can hardly get my head around my feelings, and by the time we reach the apartment, I’m no wiser about how I feel.
Dragging my bag into the living room, I’m about to tell him that he can’t just drop something like that on me and expect me to have an answer when my phone rings.
It’s Ellie, and I’m suddenly alert. My younger sister always texts. She never calls.
“What’s happening?” I say as soon as I answer.
“It’s Mom,” Ellie replies with panic in her voice. “She had a seizure, and they rushed her to the hospital. You have to come, Lily.”
“All right. It’ll be all right, Ellie. I’m leaving now. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When I hang up, Orson is watching me with a worried frown. “Your mom?”
I nod and relay to him what Ellie told me.
“I can drive you,” he offers.
“I appreciate it, but I’m going to take my car.” Maybe I’ll get that chance to be alone with my thoughts, if only while I’m driving.
Orson nods knowingly. “Keep me posted, will you? And let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Thanks. I will. Got to go.” And I hurry out of the apartment.
The journey is a mix of thoughts and emotions, between worrying about Mom and trying to make sense of how I feel; by the time I arrive at the hospital, my head’s a mess.
I’m shown into Mom’s room, where my sisters are sitting beside the bed. Upon seeing me, they jump from their chairs, and we meet in the middle, hugging each other tightly.
“How is she?” I ask, moving to her bedside.
She’s unconscious and looks peaceful, but the fact that she had a seizure has me worried.
“They’ve induced a coma until they know what caused the seizure,” Martha says. “The doctor thinks it could be the new medication she’s been put on, or it might have something to do with her dementia.”
“Apparently, seizures are common in patients with dementia,” Ellie adds.
I frown. “But she’s never had one before.”
“The doctor said it happens in the later stages,” Ellie says again.
I stroke my mom’s hair and sigh. “Oh, Mom. You really haven’t been having a good time, have you? Life’s not fair.”
My sisters and I sit and talk for another hour before Ellie announces that she’s starving. Of course; they live closer to Mom and have been at the hospital far longer than I have.
“You guys go and get something to eat. I’ll stay here with Mom.”
“You sure?” Martha says.
I smirk at my sister. “You think Mom’s going to make a miraculous recovery and you’re going to miss it?”
Martha rolls her eyes. “Fine. You want anything?”
I shake my head. “I’m good. Now, go.” I shoo them away with a smile.
When I know I’m finally alone, I turn back to Mom. Taking her hand in mine, I heave a sigh.
“Oh, Mom, I wish you were here with me like you used to be. I could really use your advice right now.”
Her breathing is easy, and of course, she doesn’t reply. She’s in blissful peace while my head and heart are in turmoil.
“I met someone. I know you never thought that was possible for me, seeing as the business took over my life. But I did. Do you remember Orson Donovan? Little skinny kid who had a hard time in school? I was always telling you about him. Well, he’s not a skinny kid anymore.
“The thing is, things got complicated. They were never supposed to be complicated, but now they are. On the one hand, Orson has slowly but surely etched a permanent mark on my heart. His laugh, his smile, and the way he looks at me with such intensity make me feel alive and truly seen. But I have this doubt that’s casting a shadow over everything. What if his feelings aren’t real? What if they’re just a product of circumstance?”
I already know that he’s never been in a serious relationship. His work has always come first. When we went to the dinner party, Jake told me he couldn’t believe I’d managed to make an honest man of him and that Orson had always said women would only complicate his life.
Well, I suppose I’ve done that, all right. But then, that was a choice we both made together. This is different. When we started out, it was a business arrangement. I would be remiss if I didn’t consider the possibility that his feelings for me are really infatuation and that he doesn’t even realize that himself.
“I don’t know what to do, Mom. I really like this guy. I mean, a lot. He’s the perfect gentleman. He’s funny, and kind, and caring, and thoughtful. Oh, and he’s very rich.” I grin. “But the money means nothing if I have to sacrifice my happiness.”
Actually, I didn’t even think about the money until this very second. And I’m not kidding myself; I really don’t care. I watched my parents struggle week in and week out. We weren’t poor, but we certainly were not rich. Money wasn’t what made Mom and Dad happy, though. It was their love for each other that did it.
I’ve never taken a chance on love. I’ve never made the time. I suppose Orson and I are not too different in that respect.
But what if he breaks my heart?
What if he doesn’t?