BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Five (5 page)

My mouth was agape in both shock and terror, as I watched Joey beat my brother-in-law to a pulp.

“Get off of him, Joey!!” Derek bellowed, but Joey didn’t listen. He didn’t care; he only kept on and on.

Over and over…

I could do nothing more than stand and watch the incredibly dangerous and terrifying scene unfold in front of me. My breath was caught in my throat, and my legs were quaking with fear and adrenaline.

I couldn’t move.

I could hardly breathe.

I didn’t know what to do.

I didn’t know how to stop it.

And as soon as my eyes shifted to Derek, I knew that he didn’t know how to either.

He clicked and clicked at his call button, clearly trying to get anyone’s attention, and hopefully he would before Stephen got hurt. However, Stephen seemed just fine as he grabbed Joey by the shoulders and tossed him backwards like he was nothing, apparently finally getting sick of being hit.

It was crazy how far Joey flew backwards. He was far from tiny. In fact, he was a pretty muscular guy—not as muscular as Stephen, but muscular nonetheless.

The two were screaming, roaring bellows of war cries, their lungs fueled by adrenaline. I wondered how in the hell no one had gotten there yet. Where the hell was security!

And just like that, I could hear feet scrambling down the hall, and I knew that security was finally on their way. I sighed, almost too little, too late.

However, when they appeared around the corner, it wasn’t just security guards, it was also a hoard of police officers. And I was glad to see it—especially when Joey was restrained by three men and handcuffed almost instantaneously.

I zoned out for a moment on anything Joey related and tended only to my brother-in-law who leaned breathlessly against the wall, bleeding profusely.

In fact, I stopped caring so much as they dealt with Joey, that I caught only a glimpse of his face as they hauled him away. And I couldn’t tell exactly what emotion was plastered over it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure he was capable of real emotion.

But his expression was unsettling, nonetheless.

I wasn’t sure if it was despair, or if it was just what ultimate defeat looked like, but whatever it was, I was glad that he was gone, and that I would never have to see that expression or any other expression on his face again.

Derek was silent the entire night. And I understood why…

His parents had called…both of them…at separate times and then together, but he wouldn’t speak to them.

I was sure he couldn’t.

He didn’t have the emotional stamina. However, it didn’t matter, his mom showed up anyway; and she stayed, along with my family.

But he spoke to no one—not even me.

He felt betrayed. I knew that; and not only that, but I was sure he wondered if he could fully trust anyone ever again.

I sat beside him, with his mama to my left, my mama to my right and Laura just beside her. I wasn’t sure exactly
why
my family was there all of a sudden, but it did seem like they were standing guard. Over what, I had no clue. Joey Freeman was going to be locked away for an incredibly long time. I had no idea what they were worried about.

But still, I accepted their presence, cherished it even. And I was sure that Laura wanted to be around us, just as much as I did her, because her husband was currently down the hall—out of sight—being stitched and cleaned up from his epic battle.

I sat in my signature seat, flicking pages of the one Vogue magazine that I found in the nightstand beside Derek’s hospital bed. I was unsure of what to do or say to make it better.

Hell, as far as I was concerned, I was perfectly content staying silent because I knew that there was nothing that anyone could say to make whatever just happened any better.

His brother had tried to kill him…for months. He had slowly been killing him, little by little, torturing him physically and emotionally—all while Derek trusted him. There was no making it better. There was no getting over it. There was nothing that I could do or say to soften the blow or make it to where Derek came out of it unscathed and unscarred.

He’d be damaged forever in some way because of it all. I knew that, but I’d be right beside him, just as I was now. I’d see him through everything.

“Why do you love me?” Derek asked, all of a sudden, just as our mamas and Laura had left the room to visit with Stephen.

“Excuse me?” I asked, my brows and head raising in confusion.

“I mean, why do you love me? It doesn’t seem like anyone else can.”

“Stop it, Derek.” I sighed. I knew he was hurting, but I couldn’t handle the ‘pity me’ act. I knew he felt betrayed, felt like Joey never loved him. But Joey wasn’t everyone. “A lot of people love you. Your stepbrother is sick. That has nothing to do with you, or all the other people that love you.”

“But he was there with me, through so much, and he didn’t give a damn. Not really.”

“And he probably didn’t give a damn about anybody else either!” I shot, throwing my magazine over to the chair my mama was sitting in just moments before.

“I know, and I’m sorry…for not believing you.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, a tear falling down my cheek.

“I’m sorry I was right.” And I was. I hated that I was right in this particular case. I wanted to be wrong. Hell, I never wanted to have the thought to begin with.

“All we can do is go on from here, though,” he said with a sigh, finally able to lift his head to look at me properly.

And he was right.

All we could do was go from there.

And go from there, we did…

We went forward and moved on.

It only took another week or so for me to reflect, unable to believe how fast he had recovered since his transfusion. I couldn’t believe how incredible he was beginning to look physically, but more than anything, I couldn’t believe how much I missed him being quiet.

He was back to his old, cocky, feel-good, idiotic self.

The only thing different from before—back when I hated Derek Sholts—was his playboy demeanor. At least, he better have been different in that regard.

My eyes narrowed just before crazily muttering to myself.

What killed me the most was that he was back at work, and not only was he back at work, but he was just as needy at work as always—if not more so.

He constantly monopolized my time, and if he weren’t my boss and I didn’t know him before we dated, I would have sworn that he was being completely possessive.

Yet, I did know him, and I knew that Derek Sholts sucked as a boss and as a human well before me; so ultimately it wasn’t my time as a girlfriend that he wanted to monopolize. It was me as his assistant and public relations rep. He wanted the work-me. Not the personal one.

Indeed, he was back to normal.

After treatments galor
e
and a bout of emotional struggles—I knew that he wasn’t completely over it; he never would be. However, I also knew he would be fine; and it’d hurt a little less as time went on.

Yet, he wasn’t the only one who had gone through a bout of unexpected emotional whirlwinds. His dad had left his wife—Joey’s mother—as soon as the entire thing went down. It wasn’t just about Joey; it was about the relationship itself. He claimed that it hadn’t been healthy or good for a long time.

And that was something that no one seemed very surprised with, especially Derek’s mother.

Or even Fredrick, for that matter.

“Ha!!” he jeered one evening as we unpacked Derek’s groceries and put them away. “Told you they were shit bags!”

I could do nothing but laugh, but in her defense, she still hadn’t tried to kill anyone with rat poison.

“So why are we unpacking Derek’s groceries? He’s not sick anymore!” I voiced, as I divided the food into categories so that we could put them up.

“He’s lazy,” Fredrick grumbled. “Like always.”

“I heard that!” Derek called, turning the corner. “Okay, I’m glad you’re here.” He looked at me and walked closer just before grabbing my hand. “Will you go on a date with me?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

“I think we’re well beyond that, honey.” I laughed, patting his thigh.

“I should still ask,” he said cutely. “I should never assume.”

I chuckled and flashed him a sideways smile. “You’re adorable.”

“Seriously, will you go on a date with me?”

“Of course.” I didn’t realize that I really had to say anything at all. It should have been obvious.

He was cute when he wanted to be…really cute.

He said that he wanted to recreate our first date. Why? I wasn’t sure. However, as I stood on the dock, my memory flashed back to that night almost completely. From the outside, he had rehashed the details quite perfectly, and I would know, because I remembered it so vividly.

The yacht was as large and gorgeous as I remembered it. The beautiful lattice design was so distinctive that I knew—right away—that it was Derek’s. And I believed, truthfully, that I would have never questioned who owned it.

I had no doubt, after knowing and understanding Derek completely, that it was one of a kind.

The lattice design was beyond beautiful, as it reflected perfectly in the glistening water below. The warm mosaic lights danced across the entire surface of the water. It was like a disco light for the marina.

He hung streaming lights on the rooftop of the yacht once again, and I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that he was
definitely
awaiting me at the top.

My eyes shifted to look at the surroundings closer to me, as I glanced over to the end of the dock and saw Alfred—just like before—waiting with his arms tucked behind his back and a beaming smile atop his face.

I could do nothing but smile in response, genuinely excited to see him, and to have him be a part of this date that Derek had so adamantly wanted to re-create.

He nodded to me, knowingly, just before he gestured for me to come closer, using only his chin.

“Hey, Alfred!” I giggled, the reenactment adorable in every way.

He smiled at me once again, just before removing his arm from behind his back and looping it for my arm to rest inside of his.

“Shall we?” he asked sweetly, so sweetly that a tear threatened to break from my eyelids. And I could do nothing but nod in response.

I had to admit, I felt like a princess all over again. He led me to the vessel that I had learned to love—although I had only been on it one time. And upon entering the boat, everything was exactly the way it was the first time. The mosaic windows allowed for small glimpses of extravagant furniture, large fish tanks, expensive-looking paintings galore, and a flat screen—all within the cabin of the beautiful beast of a boat.

I still hadn’t gotten the chance to actually go in and explore it all.

Hopefully soon, though, I thought with a smile.

We walked around the edge of the boat to the staircase once again. I smiled, reminiscing. I had to wonder why he chose to re-create our first date, though, and still wondered as I reached the top step and glanced around, knowing exactly what to expect.

There were once again, candles all over the table and a few on the floor. Large round lights were strewn about, and twinkling stream lights glistened out into the night. And there
he
was.

Standing there, his hands balled up in front of him as he rocked on his heels then his tiptoes and back again. He had a smirk plastered on his face just before he spoke. “Welcome,” he said, extending his hand out towards me just before gesturing to the table just a few feet from us.

It was
the
dinner. The exact dinner.

How could he have even remembered all of that?

Unless it was literally the only thing he knew how to cook?

But I knew better.

No one knew how to cook duck and duck alone. Hell, most people that could cook didn’t know how to cook duck.

“Shall we?” he asked, just before pulling my chair out for me.

I smiled, accepted the seat, and looked at the meal he had so wonderfully prepared for me.

“This looks so good, honey…,” I trailed, amazed as I looked on.

“So do you,” he said and smirked. “So do you.”

“Hey, Zoe?” Derek asked, dabbing his cloth napkin over the corner of his lips.

I looked at him, questioningly. “Yes?”

“I need you to take a look at something. Would you?” His voice was direct, to the point, and I wondered what it could possibly be.

“Please don’t make this sexual and ruin it.” Immediately, he laughed.

“No, no—nothing like that.” He smiled and excused himself from the table for a moment before returning with my tablet just a few seconds later.

“Where’d you get my tablet?” I asked, confused, glancing up at him as he stood beside me. “Wasn’t that at the office?”

“It was. I went in today and grabbed it because I needed you to take a look at a few things.”

He leaned over my shoulder, the tablet just in front of my eyes—and I swear, my face immediately flustered with rage. “Are you really about to ask me to do work at a time like this?” I was almost shaking already, I was so angry. “We’re on a
fucking
date!”

“Wow, that language doesn’t come out often but when it does…”—he trailed, holding up clawed fingers just before making cat noise—“…
Rawr
!”

I rolled my eyes. He was making it worse.

Just as I was about to get up and leave, he chuckled. “I just have a movie for you to watch, psycho!” He laughed even harder, before bringing the tablet closer to my face. “It’s not work.”

“A movie?”

“Yes.” he said simply. “A movie.”

He tapped the screen and unlocked, and I saw my mama on the screen, paused. I crinkled my brows in confusion, just before he hit play.

They were in my apartment, both on the couch, and Derek held the tablet directly on Mama’s face.

“So, how do you feel about me asking to marry your daughter?” he asked, confidently, holding the camera still. My heart lunged forward at the question.

There was no way that he was actually asking that question. He wouldn’t have put such an important question in the very beginning of the “movie”. There had to be a twist. But my God, he was an idiot for even putting that notion in Mama’s head.

Her eyes brightened and a smile etched across her face, and I was immediately cringing—probably visibly.

“I would love it!” she squealed, but then her demeanor changed. Her eyes narrowed and her voice grew deeper, “Now do it! Do it now!”

“She’s not here right now!” He laughed, but that clearly wasn’t enough for her.

“Call her up on the telephone!” she giggled, just before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her old flip phone. I cringed. She killed me.

I could feel him smirk beside my ear as he leaned in close to me. His vanilla musk wafted into my nose, and I felt a sense of peace wash over me as I continued watching the video.

“I can’t propose to her over the phone!” He laughed, off screen, just behind the camera.

“Then get your candy ass over to the office and do it!” she demanded, and I could tell that she was only half-way joking. The other half was completely serious. “Get her out of this dump; she needs to live in that swanky ass apartment of yours!”

Did she really just call my apartment a dump?

I loved my apartment with Polly….

“You’re such an eloquent woman,” Derek said to my mama, likely in response to her ‘candy ass’ comment.

“Oh honey,” she sighed, feigning exasperation. “I’m old and over the years I’ve lost my patience. Eloquence went out of the window as soon as I stopped giving a shit.”

And all that was heard was a giggle before the scene shifted a bit.

It was in a different area of my apartment. Instead of the couch, he was standing in the kitchen, aimed towards the refrigerator where Polly gathered food for what looked like a sandwich.

“So how would you feel if I asked her to marry me?” he asked, laughter just under his words.

“I would hate your guts!” Polly called in an outburst, slamming her deli meat down on the counter. “You’d be taking away my roommate!”

“Shut up, bitch!” a voice called from behind Derek, and I could tell immediately that it was Laura, and that was before she actually appeared in the shot, intentionally. She stood beside Polly and wrapped her arm around her shoulder.

She looked at the camera and smiled, as if she was some sort of politician. She had literally just called Polly a “bitch” a moment before; and now she was holding onto her, smiling.

“Derek is hot…and rich,” Laura continued, and I watched, amused, as Polly rolled her eyes.

“Oh. My. God!” Polly groaned. “Will you just go home already?!”

“Wait, so I have your blessing, Laura?” Derek asked, ignoring Polly’s hilarious frustration.

“Shit son, you have my blessing to marry
me
,” Laura scoffed, making me giggle audibly.

I felt him smile as well, still clearly amused by their antics despite already knowing what happened.

And then all of a sudden, the scene shifted again, but it wasn’t my apartment. It was Derek’s, and standing in front of the screen was Jim and Abigail with thumbs up just before the camera moved and Derek pointed it at himself in selfie fashion. He smiled and said, “They approve!” as his smile widened completely.

“Oh,” he said again in front of the camera. “And so do these people….”

The video’s scene switched all over again, and in front of the camera was every single person at work. Some were holding signs, others were cheering, but they all looked to be there with their banners and smiles of approval just before the focus cut back to Derek once again.

“Well,” he said into the camera, “everyone seems to be in agreement…including me.” He breathed in and out deeply. “Now, look to your right.”

So I did.

And there he was, on one knee, with what looked like an old doorknob in his hands.

“Wh- What?” I stuttered, not really understanding what was happening. “What’s that?” I asked, stupidly. I had no idea what it was. Was that supposed to be a ring?

He laughed. “It’s a very old ring box.” He cleared his throat. “And this…” He opened the box. “This belonged to my great, great-grandmother….”

The ring was probably the most gorgeous thing I had ever laid eyes on.

It was white gold, with intricate designs all over the band and several diamonds littered throughout. In the center was one solitaire sapphire, deep and gorgeous blue.

“Is that a sapphire?!” I squealed.

“You don’t make this easy for a man, do you?” he laughed. “No, it’s actually a blue diamond.”

“So wait, I don’t get a new ring?” I giggled, but in reality I just didn’t know what to say.

I was so wrapped up in the video, that I didn’t even realize what was happening. I had it in my mind that he wouldn’t have actually asked the question in real life if he was asking it in a video—and it was asked at the very beginning.

Didn’t men usually pour all of their love into the video and
then
ask at the end?

I mean, sure, I had no idea what I really thought it was. Call me oblivious, but I really didn’t expect it to be real.

Derek Sholts! Derek-fucking-Sholts was down on one knee. For the love of God, who saw that coming? He looked at me, eyes glistening, just before repeating the question.

“Zoe,” he paused to take a deep breath. “Will you marry me?

I blinked rapidly, still not believing or even understanding what was happening. Marry Derek? Become Zoe Sholts?

I could barely wrap my head around the notion, much less believe it was actually happening. I was in love with him—beyond in love—and I could never deny that. But were we ready to get married?

I could tell that his heart was pounding out of his chest, because he looked nervous, and the hand he used to hold my hand was clammy and shaking like a leaf. I sighed, here he was, down on one knee in front of me, asking to be with me forever, and I didn’t have a clue what to do or say.

I was afraid. I was afraid that I wasn’t good enough; that he wasn’t good enough; that neither of us were good enough; that we couldn’t be who the other wanted and needed for the rest of our lives. Yet, more than anything, I was scared of what the silence was doing to him.

Was he afraid that I didn’t want him? I did.

Was he afraid that I didn’t want a future with him? I did.

Was he afraid that I didn’t want to be called Derek Sholt’s wife? I did.

And then I realized, I did want to be his wife. I did want to marry him. No matter what the future held; and no matter what obstacles we were to come in contact with.

It didn’t matter what they were. I’d be there.

Hopefully one of them wouldn’t be cancer, but even if it was, I’d be there.

“Yes…,” I said, without even realizing the word was coming out of my mouth. I was glad it did, but I didn’t expect it.

His eyes widened. “What did you say?” he asked, clearly unsure of if he heard what he thought he had; probably—just as I was—wondering if all of it was just an illusion.

"I said, ‘yes’. I'll marry you, Derek.” And just like that, my face shined brightly, my brain immediately reaching overdrive as it flickered through images of what was to come. I had to admit, there was something incredibly beautiful about the image of walking down the aisle to meet him. And it was even more beautiful imagining the two of us, hand in hand, as we made vows of commitment forever.

A sense of joy and warmth washed over me, and I swear I giggled.

I loved him so much.

And the image of us hand in hand down the aisle was as clear as day. So very clear that I wondered why I hadn’t seen it coming; why I hadn’t anticipated the proposal; and why on earth it had taken me so long to answer him.

Derek stood and wrapped his arms around me, as if to thank me. But what he didn’t realize was that I should have been thanking him.

He gave me hope for a future, a future of happiness…a future with him.

Ever since he had gotten better, I felt myself truly wanting—more than anything—the promise of forever.

And he was giving me that.

We pulled away, both of us grinning from ear to ear.

I knew the road ahead was long; and it probably wouldn’t be easy, but he was the only one I wanted to travel down the road of life with. Derek Sholts was it for me.