Chapter 41
There Was Nothing
Jade
There was nothing.
For days.
Weeks.
There was nothing inside me, in my life, around me, for me. There was only pain. Consistent, never-ending, ear-splitting, vicious pain. Pain had friends: grief, anger, and guilt.
After Xavier killed Alex, he carried me into his house, where I promptly threw up at the sight of it.
I vomited again. And again, and again, until I couldn’t hold myself up. Until I couldn’t open my eyes. So I blacked out, and that was the best part of my life.
I felt nothing. There was nothing.
Was it hours? Was it days? I’d float in and out of consciousness. It was light, and it was dark. There was breakfast left for me at the foot of the bed. There was dinner. But I ate and drank nothing.
It was all nothing.
Until I woke up with an IV attached to my vein, and that’s when I had to open my eyes. It was morning, the sun was still bright, a ray of pure sunshine playing with the long heavy curtains. It was just like the light in that motel room on the day I watched Alex die.
Killed. Dead.
The bed, the room, the house…it was all so cold. My skin was blue and frozen. Every blink was sandpaper. My head was made of heavy stone, and my mind replayed the scene on a loop. His blood. His life leaving him in front of me.
He was dead.
Just like me.
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, repeating the same words.
Vernis ko mne.
Come back to me. Just come back to me.
Ya vernus—I promised him. I promised I’d come back…but there was no one to keep that promise for anymore.
That same cologne lingered somewhere at the foot of the bed, and I knew that he was here. My prison guard. My never-ending torment.
“Come on,” he said, sliding his arms underneath me. My reaction was instant—I dry-heaved in his arms while he carried me downstairs and into the dining room.
Carefully, he slid me into a chair and took his seat in front of me. There was food between us—bagels, croissants, pancakes, fruit, milk, cereals.
It smelled like garbage.
“Mon amour,” he said the meaningless words. “It’s been a month. Eat something, you’ve lost so much weight.” Xavier spoke softly and pouted dramatically. “I miss your bouncy ass cheeks, baby. You’re all skin and bones now.”
My collarbone tingled, and the lump in my throat began to rise, but I shut my eyes and breathed deeply, hoping the urge to throw up would subside. I had nothing inside me, but the nausea wouldn’t leave me.
Every time he’d come sit on my bed, I’d vomit.
Every time his smell was nearby, I’d retch.
Every time—
“Just a little bite. I’ll make you anything you want.”
I slumped down on the table, my tears bursting from my eyes again. Alex used to cook for me and make me anything I wanted.
He learned what I liked. He cooked what I wanted. He took care of me.
He loved me.
Alex made pancakes once, when we lived together at the beach house. Alex loved all things sweet—he smothered it all in maple syrup, strawberries, and chocolate chips, all of it drowning in the sticky substance.
"Mon ange? Can you hear me? I said let's go out on the yacht. You need some fresh sea air. You've been cooped up here too long."
My eyes found his gray ones, and I wondered if he was clinically insane. “I'd love to,” I croaked, wanting only one thing. “That's the perfect place to jump overboard and drown.”
I lived with Xavier, it seemed. I stayed in one room, always in bed.
I had only the clothes Xavier provided for me.
I couldn't leave through the front door—I could get fresh air in his backyard. I didn’t see anyone, only Xavier and the twenty-four-hour bodyguard monitoring my every move.
My new phone was given to me by Xavier, already filled with the most important contacts—his and my father's.
As promised by Xavier, the sea breeze whipped against my cheeks as I sat on his yacht in the afternoon, the same place I almost died and where Vova almost chopped his hand off.
Vova. I’d completely forgotten about him, but he was Alex’s uncle. Where was his number? Could I find him again?
But for what? Alex was dead, and I wanted to die too.
"Jade," Xavier interrupted my dark ruminations.
I lifted my gaze to see him on one knee, holding a little jewelry box in his hands.
A most delicate and beautiful diamond ring shimmered inside.
"Jade, I know we've had our ups and downs, but you know that you're meant for me, baby.
Let's make it official. Will you marry me? "
The yacht bobbed on the waves as I sat there, hands in my lap, wondering if maybe…maybe he couldn’t tell right from wrong. Maybe he lived in a fantasy in his own mind.
"Besides the obvious reasons of why this is twisted—like killing my boyfriend,” I said the words and ripped my heart open again.
It felt good. It felt free—to hurt myself by saying it out loud.
“Why would you want to marry me if you’re fucking random women next to my room?
Why do you want me so much if you actually hate me? ”
Xavier tilted his head, looking me over with curiosity. "You heard that last night?" he asked, surprised that I had ears. The loud moans and the woman's fake orgasms were heard throughout his tasteless mansion.
But I didn’t indulge him with an answer; I only wanted to know one thing. "What did you do with Alex's body?" I only wanted to know about him. To pronounce his name again. "Did you b-bury him? Does he have a grave?"
Xavier sighed and rolled his eyes, like I was pestering him.
“Again with that Alex, Jade! Just fucking let it go! He rotted away in that motel room. Happy?” The words hit me harder than a blade.
“I paid for the room and for the cleaner to never come in.
His body was probably found when it started to stink. "
He threw the words out there—carelessly, like he was discussing a squashed bug and not the brutal death of the love of my life.
My eyes tingled with tears that I no longer had, and then, without warning, it all came up.
The entire breakfast that he had force-fed me—it all spilled out of me and onto Xavier and the ring.
"Merde," Xavier whispered, not the least bit fazed. "I'm taking you to a hospital; this is crazy." He stood up and shook off my vomit, walking away.
Leaving me to decompose.
Just like Alex's body.