Ivy, page 29
“Oh fuck, that’s good.” Tate groaned before he threw his head back, his eyes squeezing shut as he was lost to his own release.
Limp and sated, she sagged against him, her nose buried in the crook of his neck. Their chests heaved as the haze from their orgasms cleared. She wanted to burrow beneath his skin, to disappear into his strong body where it was safe. To pretend reality wasn’t waiting for them outside.
They stayed connected, draped against each other, until finally his hand skittered up and down her spine. “Now you can tell me what that was about.”
“About making me forget.”
“Forget what?”
Forget another hospital, on another morning not so different than this one.
“Everything,” she whispered.
thirty-one
Cassia paused on the staircase at the library. Above the entrance to the third floor was Bridget’s name. The satin, silver block letters blended beautifully with the robin’s-egg-blue paint of the walls.
“Observant, Cassie,” she muttered with a laugh. Weeks she’d been hiking these stairs and not once had she noticed the name.
It wouldn’t have made sense to her anyway, not before Edwin.
She reached the landing and plucked her phone from the pocket of her coat, typing out a text as she walked toward her usual quiet corner next to the vending machine. Their usual corner.
How are you?
Yesterday morning, after Edwin had dressed in a flurry and raced out of her bedroom, explaining that Zain had been in a motorcycle accident, Cassia hadn’t been sure what to do.
If Edwin were her boyfriend, she might have gone to the hospital to keep him company. Refill coffees and offer hugs. But they were . . .
“Something,” she whispered.
They were something. She just didn’t have a name for that something yet.
She stared at the screen, scrolling through the texts she’d sent him last night.
Are you okay?
How is Zain?
Can I do anything to help?
Most of his replies had been short. He’d given her a quick text that Zain was in critical condition, but that had been around midnight, and she hadn’t heard anything since. Cassia didn’t expect much conversation, but she wanted him to know she was there.
Her heart leapt as three dots appeared on the screen.
I’m okay. The doctor just gave us an update. Zain’s stable. They’re watching him closely but he seemed more hopeful, I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just hopeful.
Her fingers flew across the screen as she typed out a reply.
I’m sure he’ll be fine
She deleted it. She typed again.
Stable is good
That was deleted too. What the hell did she know about medical terminology?
Hang tight
Delete. Delete. Delete. Everything she wrote seemed shallow. Cassia had only lived through one emergency situation, and when they’d taken her father’s body away, it hadn’t been to the hospital.
It had been to the morgue.
Finally she landed on a message she didn’t hate.
I’m so sorry. I’m hopeful too.
She hit send on her reply, then quickly typed out another.
I know you have a lot going on. If my texts are bothering you, just tell me to stop.
Edwin’s reply was instant.
Don’t stop
“Okay.” She gave the screen a sad smile and walked to the table, setting her phone on the surface as she shrugged out of her coat to take a seat.
Studying had been futile yesterday. Her mind had been with Edwin, not economics. Every five minutes, she’d gone online to search for news about Zain’s accident. There hadn’t been any until late last night.
But she couldn’t miss another day of studying, so here she was in the library. If only she hadn’t loaded so many classes into her schedule. Cassia wanted the ability to take an entire weekend off without putting herself behind. In the beginning, the work overload had been necessary. Except now she had Edwin and their . . . something.
“Thought I saw you come up here.”
Cassia whirled around in her seat. “Oh my God, Michael. Make a noise. Warn a girl.”
“Sorry.” He chuckled, holding up his hands. With that confident swagger, he rounded the table and took the other chair. Edwin’s chair.
She held back a frown. “What are you working on today?”
“That research paper for 410. You?”
“Same.” She unzipped her backpack and hauled out her laptop. “I haven’t even started it yet.”
“Want to work on it together? I just got here. My stuff’s around the corner.”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
It wasn’t a group assignment and her topic was entirely different than his, but someone to keep her accountable, to keep her from checking her phone every few minutes, might help. It was why she’d come to the library on a Sunday morning instead of working in her bedroom. In the hopes of finding a shred of focus.
“Nice.” Michael stood. “Be back.”
They worked quietly for an hour before Michael groaned and closed the lid on his laptop. “I hate this class.”
“But is it as bad as Health Econ?” Cassia giggled.
“Hmm.” Michael tapped his chin. “It’s a draw.”
Their professor in Health was dull and every hour-long lecture felt like a day. Plus the assignments were basic. Boring. Her theory was that their professor wanted them to have busywork for the sake of wasting paper rather than expending any critical thought.
Cassia pushed her own laptop aside, reaching for her phone, hoping to see something from Edwin. But the screen was blank, so she sent him a quick note.
Thinking about you. Need anything?
How long was he going to wait at the hospital? Was he hungry? Should she take him food or a decent coffee?
“What are you doing tonight?” Michael asked.
“Not much.” She returned her phone to the table. “Why? Is the study group meeting?”
“Not until tomorrow. You haven’t joined us lately.”
“I’ve been sort of overloaded, so I guess you could say I’m suffering in solitude.” It was total bullshit. She’d skipped the study group so she could race through her assignments and spend a few hours each night with Edwin.
Michael’s gaze narrowed on her face, like he could see her lie. Irritation flashed through his expression but was gone just as quickly, his charming smile fixed in place. “Well, how about you take a night off from the suffering and go to dinner with me?”
“Oh, uh . . .” Shit. Weren’t they firmly in the platonic, classmate zone? “Like a date?”
“Yeah.” He grinned. “Why not?”
Her phone buzzed, the vibration drawing her attention. And Michael’s.
I’m good. Call you later
Cassia swiped Edwin’s text notification away but not before Michael had seen the name on the screen.
“Ah.” Michael nodded. “You’re after Clarence.”
She took her phone and set it on her lap, out of sight. “We’re just . . .” Something.
“Look, Cassia.” Michael leaned his arms on the table. “We’re friends.”
Were they friends? She wasn’t sure what a friend was anymore, but if she had to label Michael, friend was probably correct.
“So friend to friend,” he said, “be careful. Edwin is known for chewing women up and spitting them out.”
Wait. What? She sat straighter. “Huh?”
“He dated my cousin for a long time. Took her virginity. Promised he’d be her only one. She would have married him. She loved him. What he did to her”—Michael shook his head—“it broke her. It’s taken her years to recover.”
This had to be Edwin’s ex, the woman Bridget had despised. Michael’s cousin was Edwin’s ex. Did everyone know everyone around here?
“What do you mean, ‘what he did to her’?” Cassia asked. The way Michael spoke was like the demise of that relationship had been solely Edwin’s fault.
“He cheated on her so many times she started doing weekly STD tests. He used her when it was convenient. Then after a couple years of being at Aston, he decided he could do better. He tossed her aside.”
No. That didn’t at all seem like Edwin. Yes, he’d told her that he’d been different. That his relationship with his ex had been toxic. But that venom had flowed both ways.
“He told you about her, didn’t he?” Michael asked. “Probably said she cheated too. That she was a liar and a bitch.”
“He didn’t . . . he didn’t call her a bitch,” she murmured.
Michael scoffed. “Just watch out, okay? I’d hate to see you devastated like she was.”
“We’re not . . . it’s nothing.”
“He has his hooks in you.”
Oh, how Cassia hated that expression. Hooks. Josh had used it all the time as a joke. I’ve got my hooks in you and I’ll never let you go.
The goddamn liar. His hooks had been cast in an entirely different pond.
“Appreciate the warning,” she clipped, pulling her laptop closer. The last thing she wanted to do was dive back into her paper, but this was her table. Edwin’s table. And she wasn’t about to leave.
“You’re mad.”
“I’m . . .” Cassia sighed. Yes, she was mad. But she couldn’t pin all her frustration on him.
Because she was pissed at herself too. For the doubts blossoming in her mind. She wished more than anything she could tell Michael exactly how he was wrong, but the truth was, she couldn’t. She hadn’t known Edwin long enough. And they’d only shared a single conversation about his ex.
As much as she wanted to defend him, she simply didn’t have the ammunition.
“I’m not just speaking for my cousin,” Michael said. “I’ve got my own experience with the Clarence family.”
“You mean Ivy.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It’s no secret we’ve been on and off for years. Every time I thought we were together, I’d learn otherwise. She takes what she wants. She uses people until she’s had her fill. Then you’re nothing. People are expendable.”
“Edwin and Ivy are different people.” The argument sounded solid in her ears, yet there was a crack in her confidence. One she hoped Michael would miss.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. I’ve known them both for a long, long time.”
“Maybe.” She waved off the topic, settling her hands over her keyboard.
“I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m just being honest.”
“I know.” She typed a word. Deleted it. Typed another. Damn it. Now Michael had screwed up her focus too. She dug through her backpack for a quarter, finding one at the bottom of her smallest pocket. Then she stood and stomped to the vending machine.
The Mike and Ike boxes were gone.
Her lip curled as she punched in the code for Starbursts.
Behind her, Michael collected his things.
“I’m going to take off,” he said.
Thank God. “Okay.”
“Don’t sound so relieved.” Michael chuckled. “I was just trying to help.”
“Yeah.” Damn. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting this to be our conversation today.”
“Just think about my warning, all right? Ivy plays with people. So does her brother.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Good luck on your paper. See you in class tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.” She forced a smile and a wave as he walked past her, disappearing around the corner. Then her body sagged, resting against the vending machine.
Why would Michael warn her about Edwin if it wasn’t true? Was it just a jealousy thing? Maybe Michael had known she was going to turn him down for a date and this was his way of deflecting. Or maybe he’d been sincere.
A different warning sprang to mind, a warning she’d heard years ago on a drunken night at a fraternity party when a guy had told her to be careful. That Josh was not what he seemed.
Cassia hadn’t listened back then.
And it had cost her everything.
It had cost her a life.
Maybe she should listen to Michael. Maybe she needed to slow down this something with Edwin. But why? Except everything was different this time around.
Cassia had nothing to lose. Not even her heart.
She’d lost it at Hughes.
thirty-two
Elora stared at herself in the hospital’s bathroom mirror, a ghost in the reflection. Her dark-brown eyes had lost their luster. Her skin had a gray tinge. Her lips were an odd, pale mix of pink and blue and purple.
Using her fingers, she combed her hair, tucking it behind her ears and pulling twin panels down her front. She washed her hands, wishing the water were warmer. Then on a sigh, she retreated to the hallway.
She’d fallen asleep in an empty waiting room earlier, wishing when she’d closed her eyes that when she opened them, this nightmare would have passed. Instead, the stench of the hospital, sterile and plastic, had greeted her when she’d startled awake.
Elora shivered as she trudged across the floor. Her toes were numb in her shoes. In the rush to leave the manor yesterday morning, after Edwin had picked her up off her bathroom floor, she hadn’t thought to put on socks. The sweatshirt she was wearing was too thin and her leggings offered no insulation. It had been warmer in the waiting room where she’d taken her short nap, but she didn’t want to be too far from the Clarences.
So she returned to the waiting room where she’d sat last night, where she’d mentally and emotionally shut down after Zain’s crash. Her footsteps were heavy but she forced herself to pick up her feet, to walk in silence, back to the chair next to the chilly window.
Edwin, sitting beside Helena with his gaze on his phone, looked up as she entered. Thankfully, David had gone somewhere else.
Zain’s parents hadn’t acknowledged Elora once. Not that she’d expected a smile or a hello. They were in their own heads, like she was, and pleasantries were unnecessary. After all, she hadn’t approached them either. She might be Ivy’s friend and roommate, but she was also a Maldonado.
Those twisted little affairs were wrapped up in her name. Her face reminded them of their sins.
Edwin came to sit beside her, leaning close to keep his voice low. “Want some coffee?”
“No, thanks.” Too much coffee had made her jittery and her stomach ache. “Where’s Ivy?”
“I think she needed to get some air. Being here, at a hospital . . .”
“Memories.” Nightmares.
“Yeah.” Edwin put his arm around her shoulders. “You okay?”
She sank into the comfort he was offering. A comfort so similar to Zain’s she would have cried if there were any tears left. “Has the doctor come back?”
“Not yet.” Edwin had come to find her in the other waiting room to pass on the doctor’s last update. Zain was stable. He needed time.
Elora needed Zain.
So she’d wait. She’d linger on the fringe of this waiting room, clinging to hope.
“I might take a walk later. Want to come?” Edwin asked.
“Sure.”
“You’re cold.”
Frozen. She was stuck in Zain’s room, hearing the shrill alarms of his monitors. “A little.”
“I don’t think we’ll hear anything for a while. You could drive my car to the manor. Change clothes. Get Francis to make you something hot. Come back in an hour or two.”
“I’m all right.” Elora’s phone was in her pocket, and if it got too bad, she’d call Geoff and ask him to bring her a parka and wool socks. But she wasn’t leaving this hospital. Not yet.
“There was banana bread in the cafeteria. I’m going to get us some.”
Before Elora could tell him there was no way she’d be able to eat, a woman flew into the waiting room.
No, not just a woman.
The blond.
Zain’s blond.
“Helena.” The woman’s voice cracked as she rushed toward Zain’s mother.
Edwin stiffened. “Shit.”
“Oh, Mira.” Helena stood from her seat, her arms opening as the two of them practically crashed together in an embrace.
Mira.
The yellow Post-it note.
The floor had opened and she was free-falling into an endless black hole. Her nightmare had morphed into a horror movie. She hated horror movies but she was stuck in this chair, a front-row seat to what would only end in death. Someone must have taped her eyes open because she was unable to look away.
She was beautiful, Zain’s Mira.
When Elora had seen her at Club 27, she’d been dressed for a night out. Makeup. Hair. Heels. But today she wasn’t dressed all that differently from Elora, in a pair of black leggings and an oversized green turtleneck. Her makeup was simple. Classy. She had pretty blue eyes and high cheekbones.
Elora resembled a child, but Mira was a woman. She held this grace, a poise and elegance, that was palpable.
Zain had a palpable presence too.
“Any news?” Mira asked, unwrapping her arms from Helena.
“He’s stable. We can’t do anything but wait.”
Mira closed her eyes, taking Helena’s hands in her own. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I’m sorry, I should have called you. Last night was a blur and—”
“Don’t apologize.” Mira gave her a sad smile. “I’m here now. What can I do?”
“I’m going to ask to see him in a bit. You’ll come with me.”
“I’d like that. Thank you.” A tear dripped down Mira’s cheek and she sniffled, brushing the drop away. The florescent lights glinted off a ring she wore on her left hand.
An engagement ring.
Even from across the room, Elora could make out the color of the center stone. It was a canary diamond, at least three carats, bracketed by two white diamonds on a golden band.
“You’re wearing your ring.” Helena gasped, her hand coming to her heart as she gave Mira a shaky smile. Then the tears began to fall down her cheeks as she pulled Mira into another hug. “I always hoped you two would find your way together again.”
