“Lord, you can read quickly! Takes me forever to read a book. How many have you read him now?”
I smile and shrug. “A few.” I ask this same question to whoever is on shift, and each time, I hope they’ll give me a different answer. “Any change?”
Sue shakes her head. “I’m afraid not.” She reaches out and touches my arm. “You have a good visit. The doctor will be along soon.”
Trudging into his room, I do what I always do and kiss his forehead. “Good morning, lover. You ready for book five?”
There’s a knock at his door and Gabby, his P.A., is there.
“Oh, look, Kris, it’s Gabby.”
Gabby frowns and walks into the room. “Hey, Athena.” She glances at Kris. “Could we talk?”
“Sure, pull up a seat.”
Gabby shakes her head. “If it’s all right, I’d like to talk downstairs in the cafeteria?”
I kiss Kris again and leave the book on a table that’s near the window. “Sure.”
Gabby rubs her arms the whole way down on the elevator ride, and when we get to the dining area, she sits without getting a drink or food.
“I’m going to get some tea, do you want anything?”
“Coffee.”
“Right, you LA people practically have it running through your veins.”
Gabby nods and gives me a tight smile. Going up to the counter, I get the drinks and make small talk with Lucy on the register, then head back to Gabby.
“No sugar, right?”
Gabby nods and takes a sip of the hot liquid, then wraps both her hands around it and stares at the cup.
Sitting opposite her, I take a sip of my peppermint tea and say, “You’re leaving.”
Gabby’s eyes meet mine, and she opens them wide in surprise. “How did you know?”
“You’ve been here, Gabby. You’ve shared stories about Kris with me. I think I know you a little bit.”
“It’s just if he doesn’t wake up.” Gabby runs a hand through her hair. “I mean, I feel like I’m taking advantage of him. The money keeps coming in, but I’m not doing anything to earn it. It doesn’t feel right.”
Reaching out, I touch her arm. “It’s okay. But don’t feel guilty. You’ve kept the press at bay. You’ve been there for me. I understand.”
Gabby bites her bottom lip. “It’s just… I’ve been made an offer from another actor, and as much as I love Kris, he might never wake up.”
Her words shock me to my core. I sit back in the seat and shake my head. “Don’t say that.”
Gabby hunches over her coffee and locks eyes with me. “It’s been six weeks, Athena. Surely, you’ve thought about that?”
“N-No.” Looking to the side, I shake my head. “Don’t talk like that.”
“The doctor said there’s been no improvement. I know Kris loved you. He asked me to make sure his home in LA was ready for you, he got me to get you your favorite teas and bath soaps, but Athena, he’s not waking up.”
Standing, I avoid her gaze. “Good luck in LA. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
I walk away from her and this godawful conversation that everyone wants to have with me. I’m the only one in the elevator, and a man yells for me to hold it. I do, and he gets in and smiles at me.
“Thanks.”
“Not a problem.”
“How’s Kris?”
Great, a fucking reporter. “No comment.”
“Pretty nasty accident he had. I heard the brakes failed?”
I glance at him—dark complexion, jeans, white shirt, and a long leather coat. “No comment.”
“I’m not a reporter.” He reaches across me and hits the stop button on the elevator, and an alarm begins to ring. “I’m Luis Rivera, Roberto was my brother.”
Terror grips me, and I drop my tea as I move away from this man. I’m up on my tiptoes in the far corner, unable to breathe. Roberto Luis was one of my attackers.
“You were supposed to be in the car. Did you really think you could come to New York, and we wouldn’t find out? Did you think we’d forgotten?” He puts a hand on either side of my head and moves into me, so his face is an inch from mine. I turn my head to the side trying to put distance between us. He laughs. “I want you to think about my brother and what you took from me and mine and know it was us who took him from you, and that we will never let you be happy. And we will never forget.”
He runs his tongue up the side of my face, he laughs again, and hits the button starting the elevator again. The doors open, and he steps out. “You have a good day, Athena, and I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
The doors shut, and I’m blinking rapidly, trying to catch my breath when the doors open again. I run for Kris’ room, but my movements are jerky and uncoordinated. Stumbling through the threshold, I find Kris still hooked up to machines and begin to sob.
This is my fault.
Mr. Livingston was right.
It’s my fault.
Rushing to his bedside, I pick up his hand. “Please, wake up, Kris. Please. I need you. Baby, please wake up.”
There’s nothing, no eye movements, no hand squeeze, nothing. He’s motionless as the machines breathe for him. Pulling out my cell, I dial my mother.
“Hey, honey, is everything okay?”
“Mom,” I cry.
“Athena, is Kris okay?”
“He’s fine. Mom, I’m coming home.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m sure.”
“Okay, honey, you need to do what’s best for you.”
I nod and realize she can’t see me, and I don’t know why I’m not telling her about the man in the elevator, but I can’t get myself to say the words.
“See you soon.”
“Okay, call me from the airport.”
***
Seven weeks.
Mr. Livingston came home with me. I didn’t tell anyone about the man. Todd has pushed for an explanation, but I can’t talk about it. The only thing I did was ask Gabby as her final act as Kris’ P.A. was to get her to hire a security team to guard Kris. She did, four people watch him in six-hour shifts.
My life went back to the way it was. I have dinner with my parents, I visit Mr. Livingston, and Todd takes me out occasionally. The only thing that’s changed is I now have locks on my door, and I see shadows everywhere.
And this incredible sense of loneliness has crept into my soul. Mom, Dad, TB, and Ashlea take turns on the weekends taking Mr. Livingston to see Kris, but I don’t go.
My fault.
The engagement ring is in my jewelry box. Occasionally, I take it out and admire the beauty and love what it represented, but that love is now tarnished by my past.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kris
The light is so bright. I open my eyes and shut them again, only to try and look through them half-open. My throat feels weird, and as I reach up, there’s something on my face.
“He’s awake!” yells someone.
A man leans over me, his eyebrows drawn together. “It’s okay, Mr. Livingston, someone is coming.” He tilts his head, so I’m staring at his chin as he talks to someone else. “He’s awake.”