Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
VICKY
Spending four weeks in the hospital when the plan was to be there for three to five days feels like losing a huge chunk of my life—one I’ll never get back.
It’s been a nightmare.
Eloise asked me the other day if I’d known what would happen, would I have still donated a kidney to Beth. I told her I didn’t know, and I still don’t.
The one piece of luck I’ve had is how understanding Anthony Davidson has been. He could have easily hired someone else for the renovations on his holiday home, but he told me, in no uncertain terms, that both he and his wife are happy to wait until I’m fully recovered. It’s more than I hoped for. My business hasn’t exactly had the most auspicious of starts, and if Anthony wasn’t my first client, a setback like this could have snuffed it out before it had even begun.
Beth has visited me almost every day since she was discharged six days after her surgery. Unlike me, she had no complications. On each occasion, she cried, telling me how sorry she was. Contracting sepsis wasn’t her fault, but she’s carrying the weight of that guilt just the same. If the roles were reversed, I would, too.
Nicholas could not have been more attentive. For the first week he slept by my bedside, and if I stirred, he was there, stroking my hair, murmuring comforting words.
Except the three I always assumed mattered the most.
These days, I’m not sure it’s as important to me as it once was. Maybe he’ll never say he loves me, but every action shows me that he does, and although I thought I needed him to fall in love with me to feel like I was his number one, I know that I am. I don’t need the extra validation.
Saying goodbye to the nurses who’ve taken such good care of me is harder than I thought it would be. A month in a confined environment is enough time to grow close to strangers, and I have, but at the same time, I can’t wait to go home. I’ve missed Penny. She probably doesn’t even remember me. I’ve been away from her three times as long as I was with her. Still, there’s time to put that right.
A crisp blast of February air hits my cheeks as Nicholas wheels me outside the hospital. It’s hard to believe I missed almost the entire month of January. I pull the winter coat closer around me and shiver.
“Get the door, Barron,” Nicholas snaps, even though his bodyguard already had it half open. “She’s cold.”
I reach behind me and touch his hand. “I’m fine. Stop fussing.”
“Never going to happen.” He takes hold of my elbow and helps me to my feet. I’m wobbly after all that time in bed, my muscles not quite atrophied but far weaker than they were. I’ve a lot of work ahead of me to regain the strength back in my legs, but I’ll get there.
When the car draws to a stop outside Oakleigh’s impressive front entrance, there’s a small welcoming party waiting to greet us, although my parents aren’t among them. Their relationship with Nicholas remains strained, and while I love how he’s always on my side, it can’t have been easy for Mum and Dad having both me and Beth undergo surgery at the same time. Mum’s trying to be more effusive with her love and equal with her attention, but I see now what she meant about Beth. I have always been the strong, independent one, while Beth is mentally weaker and needs more support.
Oddly enough, now that I have Nicholas, it doesn’t bother me the way it used to before. It could also be that a near-death experience has changed my outlook on life. Whatever the reason, the belief that I’ve always been second best in their eyes has faded somewhat. It doesn’t take away the years of hurt when I thought they loved my sister more than me, but I understand them better than I used to.
Penny flies at me the moment I enter the living room of our apartment, a blur of white fluff. I pick her up and cuddle her. “She’s grown so much. I wasn’t sure she’d remember me.”
“I put one of your shirts in her bed.” Nicholas ruffles the top of Penny’s head. “Think it’s worked.”
I set her down, and she toddles off, bottom waggling, and picks up a chew toy.
“And just like that, I’m replaced.”
Nicholas’s arms come around my waist, and he props his chin on my shoulder. “You’ll always come first with me.”
My heart flutters. He’s said it before, but I still feel the need to check. I twist in his arms. “You mean that?”
“I do.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “Are you hungry?”
“A little. I’m more tired, and I really want a bath.” The hospital only had a shower, and I’m dying to sink into a bubble bath and let the water soothe away some of the horrors of the past few weeks.
“Bath, food, then bed.” He releases me and strides into the bedroom.
I sink onto the couch and close my eyes. The doctor warned me I’d be more fatigued than normal for a few weeks and that I may suffer from nightmares or insomnia. He’s given me a bunch of other signs to look out for, side effects of having sepsis. One of them, believe it or not, is kidney failure.
I’m trying not to panic too much about that. Imagine the horrific irony of donating a kidney to my sister only for the one I have left to fail.
The scent of eucalyptus and vanilla drifts through the bedroom and into the living room. Moments later, my husband appears. Without saying a word, he scoops me up and carries me into the bathroom.
“I can walk, you know,” I protest, even though I love him carrying me.
“Shush.” He sets me on the edge of the bath and proceeds to undress me. The four small incisions from where they took my kidney are virtually healed, and the bruises from the cannula for the daily draws of blood are already starting to fade. After tying up my hair, he takes my hand and lowers me into the water, then takes his clothes off and tucks in behind me. His legs encircle mine, and he hooks his feet over my ankles and slides both his arms around my waist.
“Water warm enough?”
“It’s delicious.” I rest my head on his shoulder. “As are you.”
He chuckles. I haven’t heard him laugh in weeks, and I’ve missed it.
“I’m glad you’re home, Half-pint.”
“I’m glad I’m home, too. I should call Mum, or at least message.”
“I’ve already messaged her. She sends her love.” There’s a shade of skepticism to his tone. “She asked when it would be a good time to visit.”
I sigh. “Please tell me you didn’t tell her never.”
He laughs again. “Tempting, but no. I said in a few days when you’ve had time to settle in.”
“I know how you feel about them, and you’ve every right to. But I can’t help hoping that at some point in the future, you’ll find a way to make peace with my parents, and maybe Beth, too. They’re my family, Nicholas.”
His arms tighten around me. “If you want me to try, I will, but if you’re looking for me to forgive them for neglecting you, it might take a while. And as for what Elizabeth did… I may never be able to look at her without wanting to put my hands around her neck and throttle her for what she put you through. Sorry, Half-pint, but I’m not as merciful as you are.”
He grabs a washcloth and squirts a dollop of soap into the middle, lathers it, then rubs it over my chest. “I forgot to tell you, we finally found out who the woman was that your sister used for her own ends.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Her name was Petra Downey. She was twenty years old. She ran away from home at sixteen, and her parents died in a car accident a couple of years later, having never found her. But she did have a cousin on her mother’s side, and a couple of friends who remember her from school. Her cousin is going to arrange to have her buried next to her parents.”
“That’s good. I’m glad she’ll be home where she belongs.” No thanks to Beth, but I keep that to myself. Nicholas doesn’t need any more ammunition to hate on my sister, and if I were in his shoes, I’m sure I’d feel pretty similar.
We lie in the bath until the water cools, then he helps dry me off and change into nightwear. It’s only eleven-thirty in the morning, I haven’t done anything physical, and yet I’m exhausted. Doctors can tell you to expect fatigue, but experiencing it is something else entirely.
Nicholas brings chicken soup and freshly baked granary bread from the kitchen. The smell alone is enough to make my mouth water. To eat something homemade after weeks of hospital food is heavenly. I finish it, refusing an offer of seconds. The food coupled with the hot bath and the emotional upheaval of leaving the hospital has left me with hardly any energy left.
I sink into the pillows and close my eyes.
It’s dark out when I wake. The clock on Nicholas’s side of the bed reads six thirty-four. Wow. I’ve slept for over six hours. I turn on the bedside light, blinking at the sudden brightness.
“How are you feeling?”
“Oh.” I didn’t see Nicholas sitting in the chair in the corner of our bedroom, a sleeping Penny resting in his lap. “You scared me.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve been known to scare one or two people in my time.” He puts Penny on the floor and stands. She immediately curls into a ball and closes her eyes.
Perching on the edge of the bed, he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “You need anything, Half-pint?”
“Yeah.” I pat the empty space beside me. “Hold me.”
I don’t know why, but his face crumples at that simple request. He rounds the bed and lies down, and I roll over and nestle into him. A violent shudder coils through his body.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
There’s a hitch to his voice like he’s struggling to hang on to his emotions. I lean back to get a look at him. He’s… oh, God, he’s crying.
“Nicholas? Oh, my God, what’s wrong?” I’ve never seen him cry. Never. It breaks me. I can’t stand it.
“Victoria.” He cups my cheeks and tilts my face upward, his eyes shining with more tears. “I almost lost you. I almost fucking lost you, and I hadn’t even told you that I love you.”
My heart lodges in my ribs. For months, I’ve hoped and prayed to hear those words from my husband’s lips but never expected to. I’d convinced myself I didn’t need to hear them, that his actions were all that mattered.
How wrong I was.
I burst into tears.
“Hey.” His arms tighten around me, and he kisses my eyelids, my damp cheeks, my lips. “Don’t cry. I can’t bear it when you cry.”
“I can’t bear it when you cry,” I sob, and then I begin to laugh, and once I start, I can’t stop. “I love you, too. You know that, right? I’ve loved you for so long, Nicholas.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “You have?”
“Yes. It started as a teenage obsession, I guess, but deep down in my heart, I always believed you were the one for me. Then I lost you when you chose Beth, and I thought that was it. But fate gave us another chance. It gave us time to figure out what and who we wanted. It gave you time to realize you were capable of loving someone again after your mum’s death destroyed you. You’re everything to me. I love you, Nicholas De Vil. With all my heart.”
His often-harsh features soften, his eyes melting like chocolate over a hot stove. “I love you. More than life. And I’ll spend the rest of mine showing you that you’ll always be my number one.”
He kisses me, and I lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, the power of his love, the strength of his support.
A few months ago, I walked down the aisle and married a man I prayed would one day love me, but never truly thought it would happen. A man who told me he didn’t do the love thing. A man who’d had his heart ripped out when his mother killed herself. A man who thought he wasn’t enough when the truth is, he’s everything.
My everything.
And now I know that I’m his everything, too.