Determined: To Love: (Part 2 of the Determined Trilogy) (11 page)

I was flabbergasted. How had David not told me about this? I mean, a fiancé? That was major. That wasn’t something that you accidentally leave out of conversation.

I started to wonder how the situation played out for him. Was he questioned by police? It sure sounded like it. Years had gone by since the date of the last article. I wondered if they had made any arrests. I was knocked off kilter by the last article, the one that suggested David had hired someone to kill her. He didn’t become a billionaire until after college—had he even had enough money to finance something like that? I racked my memory. He
had
said he started his business while still in school.

I shook my head, embarrassed that I was even considering the story. Then I heard the elevator ding, and I quickly packed everything into the shoebox, and pushed it back under the bed.

I got up and was just leaving the bedroom when David met me at the door.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he said, reaching down to kiss me on the lips.

Play it cool, Sam. Don’t act like you were just snooping around.

“Hey, Chief. How was your day?” I said, pushing back against his chest.

“It was good. I had a really productive lunch meeting,” he said, pulling me in with one hand as he loosened his tie with the other.

“That’s good,” I chirped nervously. “What do you want for dinner?” There was no way I was in the mood after what I had just read.

“This.” He squeezed my ass with enough force to make me yelp.

“Ha ha, very funny. How about we order from room service?”

He looked at me with a mix of puzzlement and acceptance.

“Sure, babe, whatever you like. I’m just going to take a quick shower and get changed.” He let go of my rear.

“Great, I’ll meet you out there,” I chirped, and I resumed my course for the living room.

I called room service and requested our meal, and went into the kitchen to find a bottle of wine. I pulled out a fancy looking bottle of pinot grigio from the under-counter wine refrigerator, and grabbed two glasses along with a corkscrew.

Settling into the deep sofa in the living room, I flipped on the television and found a channel showing reruns of sitcoms from the 90s. I picked up the corkscrew and opened the wine, pouring myself a generous glass. I put the glass up to my lips and swallowed it fast. Then I took the bottle and filled the other glass, and my own again.

I zoned out to the sitcom on the screen until David came into the living room, dressed in his pajama bottoms. I didn’t want to look at him, but it was hard not to. His torso was very distracting, but while normally it was a welcome sight, right now, it just served to remind me of some unanswered questions.

Had his fiancé touched that torso?

Of course she had. Dammit. Be strong, Sharp. Act cool.

“What are you watching?” David leaned on the sofa behind me. The heft of his body made me nervous.

I didn’t turn as I replied. “Just a sitcom. Have you seen this one? The guy and the girl get stuck in an elevator.”

“Huh? No, I don’t think I have seen it.” Even without looking, I knew his gaze was trained on me. I felt him caress my shoulders.

The truth was, we barely ever watched television together. Our time was usually taken up with… other things. The elevator chimed.

“That’s the food,” I said, and I started to get up.

“I’ll get it, you stay here and relax,” David volunteered. I stayed on the couch, while he headed to the door, and tried to breathe. A few moments later, he returned carrying two trays with domed silver lids.

“Dinner is served.” He smiled as he put the trays down on the coffee table in front of us. We ate in silence as the characters on the television hopped around to laugh tracks. I didn’t laugh along. I was too preoccupied with what I had found in the bedroom. I picked at my dinner, barely hungry.

Once the credits started rolling, David turned to me.

“What’s going on, baby? Is everything all right? You seem… off.” He caressed my neck, and his touch gave me goose bumps.

“Me? No. I’m fine. Probably just tired.”

“Are you sure?” He looked at me, concerned. “Are you mad at me for not being able to make it to your dad’s birthday?” There it was. He had given me an out for my behavior. But I was too stupid to take it.

“No, not for that.”

“So then you
are
mad at me?”

I started to open my mouth but changed my mind and shrugged my shoulders. I looked over at him and then down at the floor.

His brow furrowed. “What did I do Samantha? Tell me what I did, so I can make it right, baby.”

I waited, debating what to say. I wasn’t sure how he would react to me knowing about something he had clearly gone to great lengths to hide. “Please. I can’t stand you looking at me like that,” he begged.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

“Sara Goldstein.”

That shut him up. He closed his mouth and looked straight ahead. He didn’t say anything for several minutes, and I started to feel regret piling up inside me. What was he thinking? Was this it? Had I crossed the line? And then, hastened by the silence, I started to fume. He had kept this from me. This huge secret. Did he really think I wouldn’t find out eventually? I needed to know why. I needed to know everything. I needed him to give that to me.

Finally he spoke.

“What about her?”

“Were you really engaged to her?”

He paused. “Yes.”

The knots in my stomach clenched.

“Who was she?

“My girlfriend. In college.”

“Did you love her?” I said, my voice almost disappearing.

“Of course.”

A high-pitched buzzing took over my ears.
No.
I felt myself slip off the pedestal he had put me on. Boy, he had been convincing. And I had allowed myself to believe him, to believe that I was the only one for him. His one love. Now I needed to know everything.

“What happened to her?”

David turned to me and looked at me with hollowness in his eyes.

“Don’t you already know, Samantha? Why are you asking me?”

Suddenly, I felt an enormous wave of guilt flood over me. He made me feel like a bitch for asking. My mouth ran dry. I tried to find my words, but they wouldn’t come.

David stood up and walked out of the room. I sat there, trying to process what had happened. My head was spinning, and I had a hard time focusing.

He came back a few minutes later, having changed into jeans and a fleece jacket.

“I’m not
leaving
,” he said emphatically. He knew that I couldn’t handle it when he walked out on me. “I am just going for a walk. I will be back, Samantha. Please don’t go anywhere without Elliot,” he said, before making his way to the elevator. He didn’t wait for an answer.

Wait, he was going? What?
I could barely catch up before the elevator doors closed behind him.

Did he just leave me?
I sat up on the sofa, and tried to process everything. I was so confused. Wasn’t I the one who had been lied to? David was acting like I had hurt him deeply. I wanted to cry, but I was still too angry and unsettled. I wandered to the bedroom and crawled under the covers, taking my phone with me.

I texted Carrie.

Hey, are you there? I need to talk to you. David and I are fighting, and I need some advice.

I waited in the dark, staring at the glowing screen until it turned off.

~

It was late when he got back. I was lying in bed, in that uncomfortable place between awake and dreaming, a kind of sleep purgatory.

He came in and removed his shoes before climbing into bed. He didn’t say anything, and I could smell alcohol on his breath as he lay down alongside me. He slipped one hand over my hip and pulled me in close to him. I wanted to push him away, but instead I let him hold me, the familiar sensation finally allowing me to drift off to sleep.

12

The next morning he was gone.

He must have left early, before I woke. I checked his closet, and the suitcase he usually took on business trips was missing.

I sat back down on the bed, distraught, as I replayed the events from night before in my mind. Maybe I had been aggressive and pointed when I asked him about her, sure, but why did he clam up like that? Usually he could handle it when I challenged him. Most of the time he even liked it. Where was Mr. Calm and Confident? It was like I was dating two different people. And I didn’t like not knowing when the switch would happen.

I texted him.

Look, I’m sorry, but you have to understand. What would you have done if I had a secret fiancé?

I waited. Nothing.

I tossed the phone down on the bed and looked around. I wasn’t due at the children’s center I volunteered at until 2, so I had some time to kill. I didn’t feel like going for a run, my body hurt too much from the restless night before. Or was it heartache? I wasn’t sure. I threw on my robe and plodded down the hall to the kitchen.

Hilde was there, loading the dishwasher.

“Hi there, Sam. How are you doing this morning?” she asked brightly.

“I’m okay” I said weakly, pulling myself up on one of the barstools. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, just cleaning up. Can I get you something for breakfast?”

I was the opposite of hungry. My stomach was twisted in knots, and had been since last night. I couldn’t fathom eating anything right now.

“Maybe just some coffee?”

“Sure thing, Sam.” Then she cocked her head to the side and looked at me. “Are you okay, Miss? You don’t look too well.”

I probably looked like hell. I hadn’t washed my face before bed or looked in a mirror since I woke. I could feel the dryness around my eyes, having overused them the night before.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Ah, that’ll do it. You should have woken me up, Sam, I could have made you Hilde’s famous sleep potion.” She winked at me and leaned in. “It’s just warm milk with a dash of nutmeg, but it does the trick every time.”

I smiled at her. I loved Hilde.

She set a big mug of coffee down in front of me, having already added cream. I brought it up to my lips and took a sip. The liquid passed down my throat and warmed my belly. It was just what I needed.

“Thank you, Hilde.”

She smiled, and I hopped off the stool and retreated to the bedroom. I set the mug on my nightstand, and pulled my laptop out of my bag. If David wasn’t going to respond to me, then at least I could try to distract myself.

I powered on the computer and signed into my email account, hoping to find an update from Gina. I hadn’t heard from her since accepting the job. I scanned my inbox for her name. Nothing.
Well,
I figured,
she was probably just busy. No need to get too anxious, Sam.

What was in my inbox, however, was an email from Curtis. I opened it.

From: Curtis Kinsler

To: Samantha Sharp

Subject: Drinks?

Hey Sammie,

Eve and I were talking, and we thought we should take you out on your last day, to celebrate your new job. What do you think? Forbidden Island? My treat!

Let me know,

C

Curtis Kinsler, Kinsler Gallery

For a moment my concerns left me. Curtis was so sweet. God, I was going to miss him. He’d been my first real boss, and I knew good ones weren’t so easy to find. I wrote him back.

From: Samantha Sharp

To: Curtis Kinsler

Subject: RE: Drinks?

Hey Curtis!

That sounds awesome. I’m in!

Sam

I opened up my calendar and made a note on the date. I couldn’t believe that in less than three weeks I’d no longer be working at the Kinsler Gallery. That place had been like a second home for me, a bridge from my time in school to the adult working world. I was only now starting to understand how important stability like that was.

I checked my inbox once again, still hoping for something from Gina. Nothing. So I signed out and checked a few blogs while I sipped my coffee.

Finally, around eleven, I decided to take a bath. I plodded over to the bathroom and slid over the marble tiles. I turned the stainless steel handle of the huge tub on full blast. Once it was running, I went over to the vanity cupboard and rooted around for something to pour into the bath. I found a clear glass bottle full of a pale liquid, labeled in French. I took out the stopper and sniffed. The scent of orange blossoms wafted around me. I smiled and took the bottle over to the tub, and poured a generous amount into the water. Bubbles immediately began to build.

I stripped out of my clothing from the night before, and lowered myself into the frothy, warm water. The bubbles smelled exquisite, and the heat felt good on my tense body. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my thoughts, but they kept returning to David.

I was so mad. Mad that he was gone. Mad that he was okay with flying halfway across the world while
we
were not okay. Mad that we could have talked, we could have fixed this before he left. And I was mad that I had been so stupid and careless. A fiancé? Should I have known better? Maybe. Or maybe not. I felt like I never knew if he was going to run hot or cold. And then I started to vacillate. I loved him; shouldn’t I have known he’d erupt like that?

And then I got mad at myself for blaming myself. I wanted to be stronger than that. I needed to be stronger than that. After all, wasn’t he the one who had lied by omission? I was supposed to be Sam Sharp, ruler of my destiny. Carrie had always said I was the most determined person she knew. I had always prioritized myself, and it wasn’t until I started dating David that this changed. But here I was, lost in a sea of hurt, living in a palatial apartment that wasn’t mine—my feelings at the mercy of a man I’d know less than two months. A man who I was beginning to feel I didn’t actually know at all.

I closed my eyes and let the tears run down my face until the water turned cold.

~

Later that afternoon, I managed to get dressed and packed for the weekend before Elliot drove me across the bridge to the children’s center. It was a quiet ride, and I think Elliot sensed that I wasn’t feeling like myself. He tried to chat with me, but I could only manage short, clipped answers. I felt bad, but I just couldn’t rally myself. Besides, I needed to save my energy for the afternoon.