34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Four

Eric

“What’s up with you lately?” Adam asks across from my desk as I look down at the spreadsheet he brought to me.

“Not a damn thing. Just working like usual,” I bite back, frustrated with his pestering.

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “You are behind on your deadline for this acquisition. You’re never behind. You leave at five every day now. You never left on time before. You have a permanent scowl on your face and snap at anybody who questions you. Something is up.”

“I’ve been busy. And since when is it a crime to work normal hours around here?” I ask defensively.

“Not a crime,” he replies. “But not exactly going to get you in good graces with the higher ups.”

“Maybe I don’t give a fuck about what they think anymore.”

He opens his mouth to reply but my phone rings. I hold up my finger to him and pick up the call.

“Eric Williams.”

“Oh, thank god,” Layla cries on the other end. “I’ve called your cell like twenty times.”

I sit up straight, my nerves on high alert. “Layla. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Mia,” she chokes.

The air feels heavy, pressing down on me like an invisible weight. My hand clutches the receiver as a sinking feeling washes over me. “What about Mia?”

“She’s in the hospital. Her ex, he showed up at her house. I don’t know what happened. They just told me she was unconscious, and they were waiting for the doctor to speak to them.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, everything around me seems to blur. My heart slams against my chest. Mia, hurt and unconscious. The words feel wrong as if they can’t possibly be real.

My mind scrambles to catch up, to make sense of what she is saying. A wave of nausea hits me as a gnawing feeling of helplessness takes over. I didn’t protect her like I should have. I let her walk away from me and straight into danger.

Every worst-case scenario floods my brain. What if she never wakes up? What if the last time I saw her was the last time forever? The thought grips my chest with an unbearable ache.

“I’ll call you back,” I hear myself choke before I drop the phone to the ground.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Adam asks as he watches me stand slowly.

I look around the room, trying to figure out what I need to grab. Fuck it, nothing. I just need to go to her.

“I have to go,” I say as I start to take heavy steps towards the elevator.

“What? Where?” he asks as he trails behind me.

“Cleveland.”

I press the button several times, willing the elevator to appear. I don’t have any time to waste.

“Cleveland? What the hell do you need to go to Cleveland for? You can’t just leave. You’re already on thin ice with the boss.”

A bitter chuckle escapes me. The elevator door opens, and I walk in. I turn around slowly. “Tell him to kiss my ass. I quit,” I reply just before they shut completely.

I wait for the panic to set in when I realize I just quit my job, but it never comes. It’s clouded by the fear of losing something much more precious and important to me. I was just too fucking stubborn and scared to admit it.

Now she’s lying in a hospital bed, and it’s all my fault.

I should stay away from her after how I treated her, but I’m not a big enough man to do that. As soon as the elevator reaches the bottom floor, I sprint outside to the parking lot. I don’t have time to stop at home and change. I need to get straight to the airport.

On my way, I book the fastest flight that will have me in Cleveland in four hours. Not as fast as I would like but it beats the twelve-hour drive.

I park my car at the airport, race through security with no luggage which seems to make me a target for suspicion. I get pulled aside, searched, and questioned. I want to explode with fury at the TSA agent, but I know that will only land me in jail. Right now, getting to Mia is my top priority.

Once I’m through, I check my watch. Shit, I’ve got three minutes to make it to the gate. I knew it was going to be a close call, but I’m determined to catch this flight.

By some miracle, I make it to the gate just as the gate agent is closing the door.

“I’m here,” I scream as I approach while I wave my phone in my hand with my electronic ticket.

She turns around looking completely unimpressed.

“Scan your ticket,” she informs me as she meets me by the machine.

I’m flooded with relief as I walk onto the plane. The only ticket left has me in the last row by the bathroom, but I couldn’t care less where I sit.

The entire plane ride, my knees bounce up and down as I try to work out the nervous energy that is overflowing inside of me. I realize I don’t even know what hospital she is at.

As soon as I’m off the plane, I turn my phone on and call my sister.

“I need you to tell me what hospital she’s at,” I demand as I run through the airport.

“Eric. What the hell,” she screams. “I tried to call you back, but your phone was off. Why did you hang up on me?”

“Just get me the name of the hospital.”

She ignores my demand. “Where are you? Why are you breathing so heavy?”

“I’m in the Cleveland airport. I need to know where to go. Now get me the hospital while I find a ride.”

I hang up knowing she’s going to ream my ass, but also knowing she’ll come through for me.

By the time I get my ride, Layla has already text me which hospital she is at. It’s a thirty-minute drive that feels like an eternity. As soon as I’m dropped off, I race inside to the front desk.

“I need the room number and floor for Mia Giannelli,” I breathe heavily, not concerned in the slightest with how crazy I might look.

“Are you family?” she asks as she types on her keyboard.

“Yes, I’m her…brother,” I state, knowing it’s kind of gross but likely the easiest lie I can manage without being suspicious. If I say husband and her file is marked single, that won’t go over well.

“Okay, sir. She is in room 425. Fourth floor on those elevators to your right.”

I thank her and run towards the elevators. On my way up, I try to think about what I want to say to her. My brain is fried from all of the traveling and has decided to stop functioning. Fuck it, I’ll think of it on the spot. I just need to know she’s okay.

What if she’s not okay?

The doors open and I take off walking as fast as I can. The sound of beeping all around me from all the machines just adds to the growing fear taking up residence in my stomach.

I find the room and enter without knocking or checking to see if anyone else is in there. The sterile scent of disinfectant floods my senses and fills me with dread. Then I see her lying in the hospital bed with her eyes closed. The sight of her hit s me like a punch to the gut. She looks so fragile lying there in the blue hospital gown surrounded by machines.

My chest tightens with an overwhelming mix of relief and heartbreak. Relief that she is alive, that I can see it with my own eyes, but the sight of her hooked up to all of these machines is almost too much to take.

My legs feel shaky as they take me to her bedside. I swallow hard. This isn’t my Mia. I want her to open her eyes, to smile at me, to laugh. I fall into the seat beside her and gently reach for her hand. I don’t want to hurt her, but I need to feel her skin against mine.

I close my eyes and press my lips to her hand. Is she in a coma? I couldn’t bear it. It feels like I hold my lips to her hand for an eternity, too afraid to back away.

“Eric?” a whisper pulls me from my thoughts.

I open my eyes, and her perfect green eyes are staring back at me. “Mia. Thank God. You’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks softly.

I stand up, keeping her hand in mine as I sit at the edge of her bed. “Layla told me you were hurt. I came right away. I’m so sorry.”

Her head turns to the side as she looks up at me. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because this is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid and pushed you away,” I say as my voice wavers with emotion.

“Your decision has nothing to do with what happened,” she replies coldly.

The warm Mia that I fell in love with is not the one lying in front of me. I broke her trust. I can feel it, and it may be the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced.

“When I get my hands on that motherfucker,” I say through clenched teeth.

I can’t believe he thought he could lay a finger on her without any repercussions. Just thinking about him has me seething. I should’ve found him first and beat him to a pulp.

“He didn’t hurt me,” she replies.

“How can you say that? You’re lying in a hospital bed.”

“I mean…yes, he broke into my house and scared me,” she says and every muscle in my body tenses. “But he didn’t lay a finger on me. I tried to back away when he stepped closer to me and lost my footing and fell down the stairs.”

I should feel better that he didn’t do this on purpose, but there is no relief. He still scared her enough to back away which led to this.

“Mia. He did this. Don’t make excuses for him.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. I don’t want to stress her out, so I don’t press her on it. But this conversation is not over.

“Why did you come here?” she whispers, eyes still closed.

“I didn’t even think about it. The second Layla told me, it was the only decision that I could’ve made. It made me see things clearly for the first time. It’s like everything fell into place.”

It’s the truth. I just went on instinct without my head getting in the way. I don’t usually believe in fate, but something about this feels like it happened for a reason. I hate that I needed such a kick in the ass to wake up. To think all of this is my fault makes my stomach churn.

“So, you felt guilty like it was your fault, so you came,” she says as her eyes open and meet mine.

“What? No,” I reply defensively. “That’s not the reason.”

“You said it yourself. You feel like it’s your fault. So, you came here out of guilt.”

“Mia, I did not come here out of guilt. I came here because…because I love you.”

Her lips curve inside her mouth as tears threaten to spill over her lids. “Don’t do that. Don’t say something you don’t mean.”

“Don’t mean? Of course I mean it. I’m so sorry about how I behaved. I was just scared of my feelings for you. But I do, I love you.”

She shakes her head back and forth. “No. Maybe you think you love me, but it’s just the guilt you’re feeling right now.”

“Dammit, Mia. That’s not true,” I reply desperately.

“How can I be sure?” she asks as a tear slides down her cheek. “I don’t want someone to confess their love for me out of guilt. That’s not love.”

“This is not about guilt.”

“But I don’t know how I can trust that. I’m sorry, Eric. I know you’re trying, and you’re a good guy. I appreciate you coming here, but I can’t put my heart on the line if I don’t trust the person that I’m giving it to.”

The idea that she doesn’t trust me makes my heart ache, raw and exposed. The quiet that follows creates a hollowness that takes residence in my chest. I just quit my job for her, just declared my love, and she’s rejecting it.

Coming here, I feared I lost her in the worst possible way, but this is much worse. This is losing her by her choice, and it kills me. But if it’s what she wants, I have to accept that.

She’s been through enough, and has had one crazy ex to deal with. She doesn’t need the stress of another.

Tears threaten to come, but I hold them back. I don’t want her to feel any worse than she does right now. Just because I fucked up my chance with her, doesn’t mean she needs to feel the brunt of my pain.

I lift her hand to my lips and give it a kiss. Her lips tremble as tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry I let you down. You’ll never know how much I will regret losing my chance with you.” I let her hand go and stand up. “Goodbye, Mia.”

It takes everything in me to get myself out of her room without turning around and begging for forgiveness. I want to fight for her, but I also don’t want to be her next Don. I love her too much to put her through dealing with another man who won’t let her go.

I just have to accept that I fucked up. I had my chance with her, and I let my stupid past get in the way.

As I walk outside, I hesitate.

Why am I giving up? So, I pushed her away when I was scared. That doesn’t mean I don’t love her. That doesn’t mean she can’t trust me ever again. All that should matter is that she loves me, and I swear she does.

I can feel it when I’m with her.

I’m about to take a step back inside the hospital, but I can’t. I ball my fists at my sides as I picture her trying to rest and having to deal with someone kicking me out. It makes me sick. No, I was right to leave. She asked me to go, and I’m going to respect her wishes.

Before I head back home, there’s something I need to do. I pull out my phone and text Layla. There’s one more piece of information I need her to get for me.

This one comes with a bit of confusion and refusal on her part until I demand that I get the address. It takes her an hour to get it for me, but at least I’m in the car and on my way.

If I can’t have Mia or be here to protect her, then I’ll be damned if I don’t take care of business before I leave.

The entire drive my body shakes with rage as I think about Mia falling down the stairs. She could have been seriously hurt or even killed. I don’t understand how her ex isn’t in jail. Layla says according to Mia’s brother, he was questioned by the police with the restraining order reinforced. That’s not enough.

The car slowly comes to a stop in front of a large house. I look up at it through my window.

“I need you to stay here,” I tell the driver. “This will only take a minute.”

I don’t wait for his response. Stepping out of the car, I pull down each sleeve of my shirt as I take calculated steps towards the front door.

The house is in a cookie cutter wealthy neighborhood with no personality whatsoever. A Rolls-Royce sits in the driveway. It all screams insecurity to me, but then again, who am I to talk? It’s amazing what money does to all of us.

I get to the front door and pound on it with my fist. As I wait, I adjust the collar on my shirt, wishing I didn’t feel so constrained in it.

When the door opens, I have to refrain from rolling my eyes. Of course, the dude is dressed in a polo and has perfectly gelled hair.

He looks me up and down. “Who are you?” he asks with a sense of discomfort.

I take a step forward and slam my fist into his face. He falls forward and moans as his hands rest on his knees. Before he can recover, I grip his shoulders and knee his stomach. He falls back onto the ground with a howl that echoes the foyer.

With his hands over his face, he screams. “Who the fuck are you?”

I grab him by the collar of his shirt and lift his head off of the ground. “I’ll be your worst fucking nightmare if you so much as look at Mia ever again. Do you hear me?” I growl.

He looks up at me in silence.

I shake his collar. “Answer me,” I yell.

“Yes,” he stutters. “Yes, I hear you.”

“Good,” I bite. I release my grip on his collar and let him fall back to the ground. “Just remember,” I say as I back away, “touch her, and you’ll die.”

With that, I turn on my heel and walk out the door. I open and close my fist as the pain sears through my knuckles and fingers. I’ll have to check and see if it’s broken when I get home, but it was worth it.

That motherfucker better never be anywhere in the same vicinity as her or I’ll come back here to take care of him myself.

I get back into the car and tell him to take me to the airport. As I lie my head back on the seat, I close my eyes and all I see is Mia’s face when I told her I loved her. She didn’t believe me. How could she not believe me?

I wouldn’t drop everything, quit my job, and run to someone if I didn’t love them. I wouldn’t feel like my entire world was going to be over if something happened to them and I wasn’t there to protect them.

How was she supposed to know you felt any of this if you didn’t stay to explain, you idiot?

But she asked me to leave. She didn’t want me to explain. There was nothing left for me to do but give her what she wanted. I lost her the second I pushed her away from me. I don’t deserve another chance.

It’s a good thing her brothers weren’t there at the time. They probably would’ve kicked my ass for hurting her in the first place or making her cry while she was lying in a damn hospital bed. I would’ve done the same thing to anyone making Layla feel like that.

The driver comes to a stop and lets me know it’s my time to get out. I take a deep breath and open the door. This isn’t how I pictured coming back home.

I don’t know what the answer for us would’ve been, but I was willing to fight for it and figure it out. Maybe I could’ve opened my open wood crafting shop in Cleveland. Although, what I make is more geared to southern living. Plus, the weather in Ohio wouldn’t be great for a barn during the winter.

Whatever, the point is we could have figured it out. Now, I’ll never know what could have been because I was too afraid to take that leap when it really mattered. I’ll have to live the rest of my life knowing I fucked up.