Doubting Our Hearts (26 page)

Chapter 33

Lillian

As my flight makes its descent into Miami International, I can't help but get those butterflies in my stomach knowing I'm just a few short minutes away from being reunited with my sisters. There are so many things we need to get caught up on. Since being in New York, I've missed Faith's high school graduation and Jenny's 21st birthday. Two things a big sister should never miss and the two things I'll be making up for this trip.

Taxiing to my gate, I try to mentally prepare myself for the next week, not just being with my sisters but also drowning in all things work and family related. If I don't mention him or even think about him, he won't be in my thoughts, right? At least that's what I'm telling myself.

"Good afternoon. It's a sunny and a warm 75 degrees in Miami today. We hope you enjoyed your flight and travel again with us soon. From your captain and crew, we'd like to welcome you to gorgeous Miami." The flight attendant's voice cut off, and I began turning my phone back on and getting my things prepared to leave the plane.

When my phone comes to life, I'm glad I had it on vibrate. Missed calls from Jenny and Faith and email messages buzzing in. A final text from Nora made me stare at the screen longer than I thought possible.

I tried calling and texting but I

didn't hear from you. I wanted to

tell you I'm pregnant, and wanted

you to be the godmother.

She's half kidding right? We've always talked about being god parents to each other's children, but
me
being the godmother of Damon's child? That thought never even crossed my mind. Even more odd, the thought of Nora and Damon having a baby together doesn't ruin my whole day. I'm hurt, sure, but it's not going to wreck my trip. The thought of someone else having a baby that's not mine makes me want to throw up. My stomach starts to turns, and I concentrate on breathing.

"Ma'am." The attendant's voice and hand on my shoulder bring me back to the here and now. "You look quite pale. Can I get you some water?"

"Uh." I look up and around the cabin and notice it's completely empty. "No. Thank you. I'm sorry to hold you up." I try to give a small smile.

"It's no problem. I saw you didn't look well, so I didn't want to rush you."

"I'm sorry to keep you."

"No worries. We have all the post flight checks and cleaning to do before we can leave."

I grab my purse and carryon, walk through the cabin, and head into Miami International where my sisters are probably thinking I didn't make my flight.

They spot me before I them, and with a scream, both run toward me and bum rush me with a simultaneous hug. With Jenny on my left hugging tight and Faith on my right with just as hard a grip, I bask in the rightness that is sisterhood. There's no judgment, no expectations, no awkward conversation. There is only acceptance, love, and...a tattoo?

I pull back from our sisterly hug and glare at Jenny. "When did you get a tattoo?"

"It's nothing. It was a bet. I lost. No big deal." She tried to hide the foreign language permanently etched on the skin on her shoulder with her hair. She says it wasn't a big deal, but I can tell. It's a big deal.

Jenny’s always been the headstrong one out of us three girls. Fiercely independent, highly loyal, and stubborn, oh so stubborn. She goes for what she wants, which I'm sure makes men nervous to be around her.

The one thing that worries me is the look on her face as her hand covers the black script. Jenny was never good at foreign languages in school, which makes me question the reason for the need to get this tattoo.

"What does it mean?" I have to ask. I can see Jenny getting a tattoo out of a bet, but something like this is strange. I mean a small image say a butterfly or something, but words? I wouldn't peg Jenny for a tattoo like this.

"It's nothing okay?" She mumbles something under her breath that sounds a lot like 'stupid French bastard.' Then I get the suspicion that she may not know what this means.

"Do you even know what those words say or what language there in? It looks French or Italian."

"It's French," She huffs and looks away. What the hell has Jenny been dealing with? I grab her hand and show her I'm right here. I want her to tell me. "How can you do that to me?"

"Do what?" I question.

"Make me feel comfortable enough to tell you how stupid I was to put myself in a situation to get something like this," she says as she motions to her new body art.

"I love you and you know that. You can tell me anything."

"Hey, me too. Have you both forgotten I'm still here?" Faith whines.

"Girl, you have been texting on your phone this whole conversation. Don't start acting all put out now," Jenny replies then smirks to lessen the blow.

"Your tattoo is old news anyway," Faith states with a wave of her hand and her nose right back in her phone. "Your boss. Now that's another story entirely."

My head snaps to Jenny's, and I see a blush creep over her face then anger in her eyes. "That French twit is the reason I have this damn tattoo that I still don't know what it means!" She covers her mouth immediately then runs off.

Faith and I both follow quickly, and when we reach Jenny again, we sink on either side of her on a bench. Jenny's sobbing, which she doesn't do often, and I feel awful my sister's been dealing with her own problems. What's worse is I've been so wrapped up in my own world in New York, I've neglected my family.

"I think we need a sisters only night. Stay in, drink, and you can tell me all about this problem with your boss. Sound like a plan?" I need to get out of this airport and take a shower, but I also need to get my sister in a more comfortable environment to tell me what's been going on.

Faith clears her throat and silently pleads with me. I know what she's asking for, and only because I want us to have a great time this trip will I allow this. "Fine, you can drink a little too."

"Awesome." She starts to furiously type on her phone again. "My friends don't need me to study tonight."

I let out a sigh. I know I might regret letting little outgoing Faith have alcohol, but it's one night. Plus, I know Jenny needs this to relax and open up about her boss.

******

I’m currently on my six Stella, and we've downed a bottle of Tequila Rose and a quarter bottle of tequila. To say we're all toasted would be an understatement.

"Now, tell me about this man that has you obviously in knots," I say as I drink some beer to wash down my most recent shot.

"He makes me so mad but, man, is he hot. He's even got a hot name to go with all of his hotness. Alexandre Marcel Oliver," Jenny says it surprisingly just like it would sound in French, despite her drunken state.

Alexandre Mar-sell Oh-Liv-I-Ay.

"Go on. Tell her the rest," Faith provokes.

"Fine. Fine." Jenny smiles. "Yes, he's fine. Tall, dark, and handsome with the bluest eyes and lips chiseled to perfection. I bet he could make me come in thirty second flat."

I blush and look away. I've never been one to talk about sex with my sisters. Intimacy with Damon was average I guess. He loved me and I loved him, but I knew there was something missing. It was familiar and average rather than passionate and all-consuming. I doubt Damon could do what Jenny's thinking of, but I know someone who might.

"He's hot. I get it. Now show me this tattoo in its entirety," I demand.

Jenny scowls than in one swift movement takes off her shirt. Standing now in only her black lace bra and jean shorts, she turns to the side, pulls her bra strap over her shoulder, and moves her highlighted dirty blonde hair out of the way.

"I lost a bet with him...with Alexandre. We agreed that whoever won could choose a tattoo for the other anywhere on the body. The gym wasn't good to me that day, so he obviously won. I've only known him a few months. How crazy is it that I agreed to this?"

I run my fingers over the script and wonder what it means. The lines are thin and very feminine. The cursive curls and have a few dots on the side of the curves. It's beautiful.

Jenny looks to where my fingers are running over the script and a smile plays on her face. Whatever may or may not be happening with her boss, she loves the tattoo and the man who gave it to her.

"Do you know what is says, Lil?" Faith asks.

I try to think of my French classes in high school, but my alcohol infused brain is making it hard for me to remember how to say numbers let alone what one of these words mean.

Je suis à toi pour toujours.

I give up after a few minutes of brain searching and yank Faith's phone from her hands and type in the words of Jenny's tattoo. It takes me a few tries before I get the words written correctly and hit translate.

"What does it say?" Jenny questions, and Faith is right behind me trying to pull the phone from my hands. However, I don't give it up. I think my death grip on Faith's phone has something to do with the translation I've reread about a dozen times in the last twenty seconds.

I'm yours forever.

Jenny finally yanks the phone from my hands and freezes when she reads the words that Alexandre had written on her skin. What may have started out as an intense hatred may have just tipped Jenny over into madly in love territory.

"I know you love him, Jen, and now you know he loves you too." I can't help but be over the moon happy for her. She's always struggled to find a happy medium in her relationships. One where the guy still feels like the guy, but she still owns her headstrong personality. I'm just glad she found it.

However, the revelation broke something in me that I've been trying to suppress. Those brown eyes that haunted me for months, the instant I knew we reconnected, the times I imagined a forever with him, and the moment I knew it was never going to happen. I completely lose it.

My sisters comfort me as I try to stop my cries, but they don't seem to have an end in sight. I knew I was in love with Brayden, and I have been since probably our first day together. And it's now that I know I could never love anyone like I love Brayden Knight. As hard as it is to think about, I know what I have to do.

I have to let him go.

******

The sun's too bright. The air's too crisp. The beach is too perfect. And I’m completely out of it.

The shoot is going as well as it can with my sour mood, but I'm trying to damnedest to make it through the best I can.

After my hysterics calmed down, my sisters were able to pry every last bit of information from me about Brayden. They know everything. Our time in Tampa, my thoughts leading up to my wedding, my wedding day, our time in New York, my last visit to Tampa, and everything about the last day I saw him sitting in that hospital room. They didn't say anything, only asking questions to get as much detail out of me as possible. And I let it all out because it felt good to unload everything. I didn't feel any less weighed down by the release of information, but only marginally better that I had my sisters to talk to about what I'm feeling.

I realized that even though I’ll never get my happily ever after, Jenny should at least get hers. So, what would any other normal sister do in this situation? I searched for her company and dial the front desk. I knew Jenny asked for a few days off because I was in town, so I wasn't worried about her answering when I called.

"Advanced Applied Logistics, How may I direct your call?" A happy woman's voice asks.

"Yes, I need to speak to Mr. Oliver please," I respond in my best professional tone.

"One moment." The woman puts me on hold where I hear the faint sounds of music before another cheery voice answered the phone.

"Mr. Oliver's office. This is Suzanne speaking. How may I help you?"

"Hi, Suzanne. I was wondering if Mr. Oliver is available to speak with me. My name's Lillian Anderson. I'm his assistant's sister. It's terribly important." I hate to play the hint on emergency card, but I have a feeling I was going to get the 'no he's not in I'll give him a message' bit.

"Oh. One second, Miss Anderson. I'll see if he has a minute."

The music is back. I start to get a tad nervous that I'm interfering in Jenny's personal life, but knowing her it'll take a lot longer for her to cave if I wasn't involved. The wait didn't take long, and Alexandre's deep voice is addressing me.

"Miss Anderson, I'm so glad you called. Is Jenny alright?" His French accent is not as thick as I'd thought it be, but definitely there. His concern for my sister pulls at my heart.

"She's doing well. Thank you. I was actually wondering if you could spare a few minutes to talk with me while I'm in town. I believe we have a mutual area of interest."

"Yes. I believe we do. Say tomorrow at noon at the café across from my building?"

"Wonderful. I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Oliver."