Chapter 20 Nova
NOVA
The days following the nightmare at my family’s old vacation home moved slowly. The first two were spent in the hospital after I was diagnosed with a concussion and a badly bruised shoulder. Nico had squeezed hard enough that I needed a sling the first week after that terrible night.
Of course, that was nothing compared to Vaughn’s gunshot wound, a mere flesh wound, according to Grayson.
That turned out to be true, though he did lose a lot of blood and needed to take it easy for a few days afterward.
By the end of the first week, he felt much more like himself, though he wouldn’t leave my side.
For once, I couldn’t argue with that because I didn’t want him to. That was what made the time pass so slowly. Always waiting for something to happen. Some awful, violent thing. It didn’t help that I couldn’t sleep more than an hour at a time before waking up in a cold sweat.
But always, there was someone with me. “You’re safe,” Vaughn would whisper in those moments while I was breathless and covered in icy sweat by his side. “I love you. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”
As the days went on, it became easier to believe those words. Still, I didn’t want to get too comfortable. I got comfortable, and Max died. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
I also was never going to return to my apartment, which, according to Vaughn, had been thoroughly cleaned, all traces of Max removed. “To do with what you wish,” he told me one night over dinner, broaching the subject gently like he was afraid I would break down.
“I don’t want it.” I would never change my mind on that. “I want my clothes, my jewelry, my things. But I will never step foot in there again.” Certain things were unthinkable.
“Done.” That was all it took. He didn’t need any further explanation, and I couldn’t have loved him more.
It was a Tuesday afternoon about a week and a half after that night when he found me in the living room, looking for something to watch on the television.
Like he’d already reminded me, I had every piece of content ever created at my fingertips.
At the moment, Hitchcock was in order. I longed to feel close to Mom.
“Oh nice. Do they have Shadow of a Doubt?” he asked, dropping onto the sofa, crossing his ankles on the coffee table.
“I’m in the mood for Vertigo,” I decided since I held the remote.
“But we’ll look for that one next.” It was almost too easy, living like this.
I had set out telling myself I couldn’t come to depend on him, yet that was exactly what I was doing.
I had learned to depend on him, to take refuge in him.
And I didn’t mind. I liked it. Maybe too much.
Did that get me off the couch? No. I would have happily watched movies with him all day.
“By the way,” he murmured, reaching into the bowl of popcorn between us to grab a few kernels. “I just got off the phone with Sienna Black. The one Spencer Collins recommended. The PR girl.”
“PR woman,” I corrected. Sort of a knee-jerk reaction.
“Girl, woman, she’s all in. She’ll help navigate the coming weeks and months with the bad press related to your dad and everything else. But she’ll keep you out of it,” Vaughn made sure to tell me, comforting me the way he always did.
The mention of my father turned my stomach to ice.
I tried not to think of him, even if he did choose me in the end.
I knew he loved me, and I still loved him, but it would be a very long time before I could look at him again.
He knew all along what happened to Mom, and he had let me believe she abandoned me.
He had allowed it to happen, looking the other way like he had so many times.
I was still so deep in reverie twenty minutes into the movie that the doorbell ringing made me jump, my heart lodging itself in my throat, and a cold, sick feeling spreading through me. “I’ll get it,” Vaughn offered, giving my arm a gentle pat before getting up.
Sudden surprises would take a while for me to adjust to. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for somebody to come to the door and decide we didn’t need to breathe anymore.
“Thank you.” Vaughn scribbled his name on a tablet before accepting a flat envelope. Closing the door, he stood there for a while, staring down at it, his face an indecipherable mask.
Angling my body on the couch so I could see him better, I asked, “What is it?”
His head snapped up like a man who had just woken from a dream. “It’s from my lawyer. The annulment papers. They’re ready to sign.”
Why not hit me and get it over with?
That was how it felt, that sudden, painful reminder of what was always supposed to happen. It was meant to be this way. Just because neither of us had mentioned it in weeks didn’t change anything.
I swallowed back the lump of emotion riding in my throat. “Think of it this way,” I offered, pausing the movie before standing on trembling legs. “Now you’re legally allowed to get rid of me.”
Slowly, he lowered the envelope, letting it dangle by his side. “What are you talking about? Get rid of you? Who said anything about getting rid of you? I forgot all about it, that’s all.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind.” I forced a laugh I didn’t feel, not when my heart was on fire and my lungs so tight it made breathing a challenge. “We were always going to do this. We made a mistake. No hard feelings.”
He blinked hard, finally tossing the envelope onto the couch like it didn’t exist. “You still want this?” he asked, searching my face, confusion pulling his mouth into a grimace. “After everything? You still want to sign these papers?”
How could he sound so baffled? Did he mean it?
“You don’t?” I asked.
He hesitated a beat before shaking his head. “I meant it when I said I love you. You don’t hear me saying it every night when you wake up from your dreams? You’re safe. I love you. No signature on a piece of paper will stop that, but why go through with it when there’s so much between us?”
His brow lowered. “Unless you didn’t mean it when you said you love me.”
“I did mean it, which is why I have to get out of your life. You don’t need me.
You don’t need any of this.” I could barely speak, could hardly force the words out when my heart wasn’t in them.
Not when I wanted to throw myself into his arms and beg him to love me, to keep me with him, to never leave me alone.
“I think I’m the best judge of what I do and don’t need, Oxford,” he added with a smirk because that was his way—trying to defuse the situation with humor. I saw him so clearly now. And I loved him, I really did.
Which was why I had to do this.
“So you need a PR person to come in and paint a shiny veneer over the shit I’ve gotten you into?” I asked. “You know, after I got you shot? Let’s not forget that part.”
His face fell. “Nova…”
“On top of all the money you paid the guards. One of them is dead now,” I added, my voice catching. Poor Max. “I am bad news. No good. Please, do yourself a favor and cut me off before I completely destroy you.”
“None of that was your fault,” he shouted.
“None of it. You just described actions taken by other people. You didn’t shoot me.
You didn’t make it necessary for your life to be protected.
Besides, I walked into all of this with my eyes open,” he continued, taking one slow step after another toward me, holding my gaze the whole way.
“I chose to protect you. I chose to go after you. I chose to spend that money, and I knew walking into that house that night that I could very well be risking my life. And you know what?”
Coming to a stop in front of me, his eyes searched my face. “I did it anyway. Eyes wide open. Because you’re worth it. I love you. You drive me fucking crazy, but I love you. And I’m not signing those annulment papers,” he confirmed with a small shrug. “So suck on that, Oxford.”
It was the worst possible time for a laugh to burst from me, but it did, and with it came all of the pain and strain.
The fear I went through, the trauma, the memories that were still so sharp and clear I might as well have been living through them in real-time.
It poured out of me like a flood through a broken dam, and by the time it all subsided, there were tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Come here.” He didn’t wait for me to fall into his arms, wrapping them around me instead and holding me close to where his heart thudded away. “Nova Mancini, I’m not letting you go. Fight all you want, but I won’t lose you now or ever. What? You think I go around getting shot for just anyone?”
I took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Deliberately. Was this it? Could it be?
Slowly, realization dawned, sinking into my brain.
This could be it if we wanted it to be.
If we worked for it.
And I wanted to more than anything.
“Okay,” I whispered, holding him tight. My life preserver. My savior. “Okay. Let’s burn those papers and give us a chance.”
* * *
“I would like to propose a toast.” Standing at the end of the table in his award-winning restaurant, Sebastian held up a glass of wine from his impressive cellar. “To Vaughn Eastman, now the owner of two successful casinos. Congratulations.”
With his lips twitching, he added, “And I wouldn’t mind if you let me open a restaurant in one of them.”
The entire table burst out laughing—Vaughn, me, his friends, and mine.
He had invited us all to have dinner in celebration of the deal going through and what was once my family’s casino now coming under his ownership.
One of the conditions of Dad’s agreement with the Feds was surrendering all assets.
I couldn’t stand the idea of the casino falling into anybody else’s hands.
I had given my full blessing to my husband to make the purchase.