The battle was all over Paisley’s gaunt face. She eventually stomped to the door in defeat, one predator recognizing the other as a larger, more dominant one.
“Bye, now,” Diana drawled as Paisley walked out. When the door closed, Diana rushed over to me. Reaching up, she cupped my face gingerly. I couldn’t help it––I jerked back. Only months ago this woman hated me enough to see me wind up in the hospital, and now she was my protector?
Scanning the state of my dress, her brow remained perfectly line free while her tight mouth telegraphed her anger. With her fingers under my chin, she tipped my face left and right, inspecting the cheek that was still burning. “Come sit down,” she ordered gently.
Holding my dress up, I shuffled to the boudoir stool in front of the expansive mirror and sat. I almost didn’t recognize the gasp coming from my own lips. A red welt, the outline of four distinct fingers, streaked across my porcelain skin. My sharply bobbed hair was a disheveled mess, red scratch marks were on my chest and neck
“I can’t leave like this,” I said more to myself.
“No, you can’t.” I glanced up at Diana, who was running a hand towel under the sink. She wrung it out before placing the cold compress on the cherry red mark.
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes met mine briefly before they fell to the ground. “You have no idea how sorry I am…can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”
What was I to say to that? I could forgive, but I would never forget. “You had nothing to do with this.”
“I mean for everything else––although I’m sure Sebastian will find a way to blame me for this, too.” She was right, knowing Sebastian he would. However, she didn’t deserve my sympathy, or lies to allay any guilt she may have felt or pretended to feel. When I remained silent, she continued, “Will you accept my apology, Vera?”
My determined gaze captured her subdued one. “Yes.” Hope made her eyes light up. “However, that does not mean I’ll forget.” The light dimmed once again. She reminded me of a little girl, reacting in real time to every single feeling she had. “You have a long and arduous road ahead of you. If you really want to make amends, start with your son.”
“I know,” she agreed, her tone sullen. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not promising to change overnight. I know not to have those kinds of expectation––at least, that’s what my therapist tells me… but I want to be part of this family.” There was true longing in her voice, an earnest vulnerability that I knew was unusual for her. “I’ll do anything to be part of this family again.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had my own problems to worry about––and at present, a big one to deal with. The unfocused look in her eyes transformed to determination. “This is what we’re going to do…”
Fifteen minutes later, she finished zipping me into her Chanel dress while she wore mine, her bodyguard’s tuxedo jacket draped over it. Her dress was three inches too long for me, but otherwise it fit. After applying powder to my red welt, I left the bathroom in search of Sebastian.
It was well past two am. The concert had ended and people were steadily departing, the stairs crowded with everyone trying to beat the traffic. For twenty minutes, I searched in vain. Finally in frustration I decided to walk back to the car in the hope that Bear could tell me where to find him.
Still leaning against the car, Bear straightened when he saw me approaching. His eyes curiously studied my dress, though he chose not to say anything.
“Have you spoken to Sebastian?”
“Yes,” he said, opening the car door for me.
“Well, where is he? Did he leave?”
“Yes.”
Something in his tone made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “By himself?” I asked while my stomach churned with bile.
“No.”
A shockwave moved through me, arresting my breath. He couldn’t be right. This couldn’t be happening. “With whom?”
The long pause before his answer told me everything I needed to know. “Caroline Pruitt.”
My heart collapsed, as if the scaffolding that held it together gave way all at once. For the first time, doubt took up more space in my heart than hope.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The following day I had to force myself out of bed, my body and my will drained of strength. Any hope I may have had of salvaging my relationship was in steady free fall, dwindling by the minute. The evidence of my sleepless night mocked me in the bathroom mirror. Drifting in a fog of depression, I don’t even know how I managed to get out of the shower and dress myself.
The first text came in at eight am.